“Up the River (Imprisoned) in Handcuffs”

Note from Felix:  This incredible bondage romp has always been one of my favorite bondage stories.  It has all the fun elements of a great bondage text, and I present it here to you in its entirety, disclaiming knowledge of origin or copyright.  This is an incredibly long story.

The following story is pure unadulterated fiction with no connection to actual persons, places or time. Please enjoy the fantasy.


Chapter One

I could not believe that I was volunteering to go to prison. Actually, that is not entirely correct. I was requesting or agreeing to go through the process of being imprisoned in order to understand just what was happening in this Far Eastern country.

Mai Ling is my name and I am a 24 year old, healthy, usually rational female, who supports herself, more or less, by being a free lance writer for the United Nations. I was born in the United States as the result of a union between an American marine and a Vietnamese. The marriage occurred when he was on leave and lasted until I was all of two months old. He was killed soon after returning to action, leaving my mother and I to a life of trying to survive in New Jersey. One way or another she put me through college and then succumbed to breast cancer, leaving me with only distant relatives.

Since then I had been living on a little insurance money together with what I could earn in journalism. I think I have the brains to do this, although there are times when my imagination and body get me into trouble. I hoped that this was not one of those times. Somewhere along the line I had found a receptive audience among a few of the powers that be at the UN because of a report I had done about S/M life in Amsterdam (but that is another story). They encouraged me to do more in the way of investigative reporting. I also enjoyed traveling and all this had led to my interest in a report I had read about the low crime rate in this Asiatic country. Why such a low crime rate, I wondered…and why was the rate of second offenses so low? These questions had brought me here.

My first stop after arrival yesterday was to visit the main police station of this capital city. I wanted to find someone who knew the legal system. Although I was fluent in Chinese, Vietnamese and French, the three commonly spoken languages, I was pleased when I was referred to a criminal lawyer who was educated in the United States. I was able to arrange an interview with this Joe Branigan early this morning and we seemed to get along fine. He answered my questions with interest although I wondered whether some of this was a reaction to the fact I was young, attractive and single. At times he seemed focused on the fact that my breasts for a girl of Asian extraction were full, suggesting my American blood….although my long black hair and eye shape marked my other side.

We talked quite a while about the country’s legal system and he told me a little about the two main prisons. But I was also intrigued by the fact that they had a jungle work camp for women located far up the main river of the country. Somehow this excited me and he had invited me to watch the next departure of prisoners for the camp, saying that it was really quite a scene. Apparently, one of his clients was about to be “sent away”.

Anyway, he had arranged a meeting with Mr. Suharto who is the head of the criminal enforcement division of the country and the chief warden of the main prison. Both Mr. Suharto and Mr. Branigan had been explaining that the main reason for the low crime rate was the fact that punishment was severe. I had answered that the same was true in the United States.

“No,” Mr. Suharto replied, “you may sentence your criminals to appropriate time in prison but then you baby them, giving them TV’s, radios, conjugal visits, etc. Here, prisoners have no rights or privileges.”

I had a hard time imagining this and had asked if I might visit his prison.

His reply was, “Sorry but we have very strict rules about visitors, particularly if they are reporters. Joe here probably explained that the same applies to the woman’s prison camp which in any case is far up river.”

It was at this point that Joe asked whether I might at least observe the processing or admission of incoming prisoners.

“Yes,” I said. “This wouldn’t be the same as actually seeing the prison. Wouldn’t this be okay?”

“Mai, if I may call you by your first name, processing of prisoners takes place in the prison itself. The only way that would work would be for me to make you a “criminal” for the two days in takes to get you from the front door to the holding area from which the prisoners are assigned to a prison unit or go to the work camp. And believe me, those two days would have you begging for release.”

After this remark from Mr. Suharto…which sounded like a challenge…. I replied, “Look, if this would give me the answer to my questions, I want to do it. Besides, I’m strong and can take anything for two days.”

Joe said, “Mai, you are crazy. Processing involves strip searches, finger printing, photos and a fast education in the rules prisoners must obey. It’s as bad as two weeks in prison itself. You really would be a prisoner.”

So this brings me to the start of this tale. I should add that several years previously I had become aware of a deep seated fascination in bondage, control, even enslavement. As was true in my adventures in Amsterdam, I was now becoming sexually aroused.

“Sir, I would really like to do this. I’ll be glad to sign any necessary papers and would not hold you or the system responsible.”

Mr. Suharto replied, “Well you would also have to promise not to reveal that you actually went through the process, although you could use some of the information in a report. Maybe it would help get rid of some of the problems in your own prison system.”

“Fine with me,” I said with sweaty palms. “When do we begin?”

Subsequently he told me that he and Joe would make up a fictional record of arrest and conviction. Since a small group of females were expected from jail the next day, I could join them, be processed and then he would arrange for me to be released from the holding cells two days later.

Chapter Two

Joe picked me from my hotel the next morning. I hadn’t slept much during the night but was fully awake with excitement. Arriving at Mr. Suharto’s office building which was just outside the walls and wire fences of the prison, we went to his office where he greeted me with a smile.

“I didn’t think you would show up. Here are the release papers for you to sign. We decided to use your real name. You have been convicted of the sale and possession of drugs and resisting arrest. You also have a previous record of arrests for prostitution but were not convicted of these. This country, unlike yours, does not tolerate drug use and you have been sentenced to seven years in prison including time at hard labor. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I should be in prison.” I looked over the papers. My heart was beating rapidly and my adrenal glands were working overtime. Also I noted that my nipples were tingling and my juices flowing. My body always seemed to get excited beyond my control. The papers looked okay although I had a hard time concentrating. So I just signed them.

The warden said, “Mai, a prison matron will take you downstairs to a receiving room and start the process. I have a few things to discuss with Joe and he can then say goodbye to you down there and pick up your personal possessions. I’ll see you in two days. Good luck….you are going to need it.”

With a rather amused smile on her face, the matron ordered me to follow her. Downstairs, we entered a bare room with bars on the windows. She handed me a rather thin, orange-colored cotton dress. On the back was a large, black letter “P”. “Go into that bathroom, strip completely and put the dress on. No jewelry, hair pins or anything else. Your present clothes go into this bag, and hurry.”

When I put the dress on, it was small and came down only to my upper thighs. Buttoning the three buttons left a deep”V” in front with a little bit of my breasts showing. Also, the lower part of the dress barely closed. When I moved a gap appeared, so I put my panties back on. Going out into the main room I said, “This dress is a little small and I would like….”

“You’ll use what I gave you,” she interrupted. With that she reached through the front of the dress and ripped off the panties. I couldn’t believe it. “And take off your shoes immediately.”

“What do I put on my feet?”

“Shut up, and turn around with your hands crossed behind your back.” This command was accompanied by her grabbing my shoulders and twisting me. Then I felt a thin band of plastic being drawn around my wrists. It was pulled very snug.

Coming around in front again, she held several of these bands in her hand. “These plastic handcuffs were made by your government, and are cheap and very effective. See, you just make a loop and thread the end thru that little one-way lock. It can be tightened but never loosened. For transporting prisoners they are great for we don’t have to worry about keys. In the prison itself, you will find that the steel handcuffs are used. Now get down on your knees. I’m going to use a double ended plasti-cuff on you ankles.”

Soon I found that my ankles were connected by a 12 inch strip of the plastic, thus effectively hobbling me. I tried to separate my wrists but found the plastic was very strong.

“Now stay kneeling on that black painted circle and keep quiet unless you want your panties shoved in your mouth and kept there with another plastic strip. Your fellow prisoners should be arriving within a few minutes.”

I looked around me and saw about 8 of these circles, each about two feet in diameter. A minute or so later, Joe came in, said something to the matron and approached me. “Mai, you can stand up but she doesn’t want you to move from the circle.” I tried to stand but the hobble made it very awkward, so he helped me.

“Actually you look rather nice in orange,” he said. “That doesn’t hide much, does it?”

I looked down and saw not only the inner aspects of my breasts but also my nipples pushing out the thin cloth. I guess I turned a little red.

“I have your clothes, wallet, rings and watch and will keep them for the two days.” We then watched together as five other women of varying ages were led into the room. They already were dressed in orange and were accompanied by several police officers and a few family members. The matron went around applying the plasti-cuffs when the officers retrieved their own handcuffs.

She then said, “Okay, you have two minutes for goodbyes.”

I noticed lots of hugs, kisses and a few tears. Turning to Joe, I asked, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” With that he pulled me to him and covered my mouth with his. One of his hands founds its way to my buttock area and I felt my pelvis pushed forward into him. His erection was easily noted, hard against my pubis.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just got a little carried away. Actually I am not very sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I replied. “Being cuffed like this has got me a little aroused, and I guess I was asking for it.”

“Time’s up. Everyone out except my new guests,” the matron said. As soon as they were gone, her manner changed. She went over to a closet and took out a slender, rather stiff whip or flogger and proceeded to walk around us. Our eyes tried to follow her.

“Stand still, look straight down at the floor and don’t look at me. You will obey my every command promptly and fully. You will never make a sound unless I order you to do so by using the work ‘speak’. Do you understand?” I heard a quiet “yes” followed by an immediate yelp of pain. I looked to my right to see a woman twisting away from the matron.

“I didn’t order you to speak or yelp, did I?” The woman shook her head. Then the matron came over to me and asked, “Did I tell you to look at me?”

Without thinking I replied, “No, matron” and watched with dismay as she lashed out with the whip, catching me across the side of my breast, chest and back. A searing pain sent me reeling back and the hobble caused me to fall.

“That’s where you belong, you stupid, drug filled whore. Now crawl back onto that circle, spread your knees and kiss the floor. Stay that way until I tell you. Now you all are going to get numbers. Since they are long and you are too stupid to remember them, I am going to just give you the last three digits. I am also going to write them on your chest and you will remember them. If you forget, you will be sorry.”

She proceeded to go around telling each prisoner her number, pulling her dress off one shoulder and writing the numbers above the left breast with a black, permanent marker. When she came to me, she ordered me to stand up. I got to a kneeling position, rocked back onto my feet, and just managed to stand. She then pulled my dress off my left shoulder and started writing. I could tell the first number was a ‘1’ but missed the other two…and she hadn’t spoken any of them. I didn’t dare ask.

“Now, everyone, on your knees and bend forward like stupid here was a minute ago. We are going to have a little test.” She went over to the end of the line and asked, “What’s your number? Speak.” I heard a “2-8-8” in reply. “Good, now you.” In this way she made her way down to me. “You,” she said nudging my head with her foot.

“1….but you never told me….ouch,” I yelped as the whip came down across my curved back.

“All you others watch as I impress this slut with her numbers. And slut, you count after each blow.” Without pausing, I felt the whip come down on my behind. “One,” I yelped.

“Yes, that’s right. Now your second number is….”

“Ow, one……ooh, two…..three….four…please stop, five…..six.” I couldn’t believe the fire.

“Right, and your last number is nine, so start counting without the comments.”

I managed to get through it but not without falling on my side, trying to avoid the blows.

“Now, it’s time for you to leave this nice air-conditioned building. It is about 50 yards to the prison gate and you six are going to crawl all the way. And you’ll taste my whip if you dally. 1-6-9, you had better keep up…and that ‘please stop’ business is going to cost you later.”

We were herded out the door into the hot sunshine. I think it was close to 100 degrees and the humidity must have been about the same. We waddled along, limited by the hobbles. Every so often, the matron would swat us, and attempts to move faster resulted in falls. By the time we reached the prison door, we covered with sweat, dirt and whip marks. I was feeling more and more miserable and considering whether I should try to call the warden.

“Now line up, one behind the other and face that door leading to the next room. I want you close enough so that the breasts of the one behind touch the back of the one in front. And hurry.”

We followed her orders with me being the last in line. She then had the first two move forward into the adjoining room where they were greeted by two prisoners wearing orange gowns with a letter “T” on the back. I also noted that each had some type of collar around her neck. The door then closed.

As the four of us stood in line waiting our turn, the matron drew me to one side away from the others. I fearfully faced her, expecting another beating.

“Mai, or 1-6-9, I know I am being hard on you, but I want you to fully experience what prison life is like. You in effect will become a slave, but at the same time I think you will come to enjoy the power I have over you. At this point, the relationship is strange to you but at some time in the future you may see me as the key to your future. My name is Monique, remember it. Now kneel down and kiss my boots; then return to your place in line.”

I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about but followed her commands. After about 20 minutes, the next two women were led into the next room and after another interval, the door opened and the matron pushed the last two of us forward.

The adjoining room looked mainly like a shower room but it smelled like a filthy out house. The matron explained to us that the two orange clad women with the “T’s” were trustees and we should obey them. We were led over to one wall where there were two toilets and made to sit on them in the wrong direction with our faces to the wall. I looked down as I felt one of the trustees push my ankle into a clamp device which closed with a snap. I tried to move my foot back but the device wouldn’t open. My other ankle was similarly secured. Then she encircled my neck with a leather collar, buckled it closed and ran a six inch chain from the collar to a ring on the wall above the toilet. I now could not get up or move away. Her next step was to haul my bound wrists up towards the collar at the back of my neck with some type of strap.

The matron, who had been watching, came over and said, “Now we are going to be putting you through some measures to make sure you haven’t brought any secret caches of drugs, money, cigarettes, etc. into the prison. The rectum seems to be a frequent hiding place and we are going to make sure you are clean and empty. Any sounds from you two will result in a gag. But before we start the enemas, I want you both to piss into the pans that are already in the toilets. Go ahead.”

I started to strain but either I was dehydrated from the sweating or just not full. Anyway, nothing happened. I could hear a stream from my fellow prisoner hitting her pan.

“What’s wrong, 1-6-9, did I scare the piss out of you a few minutes ago? We need those urine samples for drug and sugar tests. You have one more chance and if you fail, I’ll get the sample a different way in a while.”

I tried again but without success. The matron then nodded to the trustees. The one who had fastened me in place came over and said, “Get you ass up in the air,” and gave me a swat with her hand. I raised myself up off the toilet seat and suddenly what felt like a huge rubber tube was shoved into my rectum. She then gave several squeezes to an attached bulb and I got a sense of pressure inside. She explained that an internal balloon would keep the thing from coming out. When she pushed be down onto the seat, I caught a glimpse of her connecting up a tube coming from some type of bag reservoir. My next sensation was when my belly started to fill with hot solution.

As I started to sweat more and more, the matron whispered in my ear, “Having fun, Mai? Is this what you were interested in observing? I want you to say, ‘Yes, mistress, thank you’.”

I wanted to spit in her face, but restrained my self….and didn’t say anything.

“Oh, stubborn, aren’t you. Well, you will do as I say before the day is over.”

By this time I was feeling very full and experiencing increasing cramps. My buddy on the next toilet was moaning and seemed about to vomit. She was pale and drenched with sweat. Then I guess they stopped the inflow of solution. The rectal tubes were roughly pulled out without even deflating the balloons. I jumped from the pain and my anus went into spasm. We were instructed to hold the fluid but already the other girl was letting a stream rush out. I thought ‘the hell with it’ and followed suit.

“You two have a lot to learn. Fill them up again and double the amount,” the matron said. I couldn’t believe it. This time I thought my belly would burst. My trustee felt my distended abdomen and laughed, “Maybe she’s pregnant”. From along side of me came the sound of vomiting, and as I looked at my fellow inmate, she fainted, falling to one side but held by the collar and chain.

The trustees and the matron released her from the toilet and laid her flat on the cement floor. The tube was pulled from her rectum which immediately emptied all over the place. Meanwhile my belly was becoming unbearable. When I couldn’t stand it any more, I blurted out, “Please, stop the flow, I can’t hold any more.” Happily, they complied but the matron glared at me.

After they allowed me to empty, the matron said, “Now 1-6-9, before I consider a third enema, remember what I told you to say. Are you having fun?”

At that moment I hated her but said, “Yes, mistress. Thank you.”

Happily, she simply ordered the trustees to release me from the toilet. The other prisoner was regaining consciousness and we both got slowly to our feet. The matron came over and cut the plastic ties on our wrists and ordered us to take off our shifts. Naked, we were led over to some shower areas and the matron directed the trustees to wash us down. This was done by first running hot water all over us and then we were scrubbed with stiff bristle brushes and strong soap. I squirmed trying to avoid the discomfort but also knew that any real defensive action was likely to get me whipped. Finally, we were rinsed with very cold water that left us gasping. Towels were given to us and we were then allowed to put our orange prisoner shifts back on.

“Okay you two, time for your pictures and fingerprints. Then you get your jewelry.” She ordered us to proceed her into the next room where we were met by a male trustee who was, in fact, the photographer. I was a little surprised to see him in the female side of the prison. He had me stand on a mark on the floor and face his camera holding a board showing my number. Front, side and back views were taken. Then he took away the board and ordered me to take off my dress.

I looked at the matron to see if I had to do this and Monique simply said, “Do it.” He had me face the camera with my hands behind my head and with my ankles separated as far as the foot fetters would allow while he took several more pictures. As I dressed again, I wondered where these would windup. The other prisoner, 2-8-8, was then photographed the same way. The fingerprinting seemed rather standard and gave me a chance to regain some composure but this disappeared when I saw Monique holding some leather things and chains. While 2-8-8 stood to one side, I was ordered to kneel down with my arms outstretched in front of me. My wrists were encircled with stiff leather cuffs and locked with a short chain linking them together. The plastic cuffs on my ankles were replaced with similar leather cuffs, this chain being about 12 inches long. My final ornament was a 2 inch wide collar. Constructed mainly of leather, it also had a band of steel, laced through loops on the outside. The collar was made snug and then secured with still another lock. I wondered who kept track of all the keys but later learned that the cuff locks all used a single key and the collar lock key was kept in the warden’s office.

2-8-8 and I were then ordered by the matron to proceed her down a hallway and into a room where the other four new prisoners knelt before a wooden trough. We were pushed down and into position beside the others. Soon another trustee entered with a pail of stuff which she simply poured into the trough.

“Eat up girls,” said the matron, “And when I return I want to see every speck of your delicious meal gone, or else you will be force fed.”

We sort of looked at each other and then began to eat what looked and tasted like rice and some type of soup or chowder. It wasn’t too bad but it was difficult to get the stuff up in our hands and into our mouths. It ran down our necks and onto our dresses but we somehow managed to empty the trough. Then we simply waited for the matron to return.

Chapter Three

“This afternoon you six miserable creatures will have your physical examinations and then you will get some individual instruction in how to be a good prisoner. Some of you have not followed my instructions as well as I would like and will be suitably punished. Also, I see that all of you have soiled your nice uniforms so after your physicals, you will remain nude until you convince me by your behavior that you are worthy of some type of covering.”

One by one the other women were taken for their exams until just 2-8-8 and I remained, kneeling on the hard floor, our wrists bound and resting on our thighs. A few minutes later, the door opened and a nurse came for me. I was a little surprised when Monique accompanied me into the exam room where my wrist manacles were removed and I was ordered to strip and get up on the table. As soon as I lay down the nurse and the matron proceeded to fasten table cuffs around my wrists and a restraining belt around my waist. My legs were placed in stirrups and more straps were applied to my knees, thighs and ankles. The nurse asked me a few questions about my health and then the doctor came in, at least I thought he was a doctor. But I wondered about this as he proceeded to spend several minutes feeling my breasts. Then the stirrups were forced apart and he sat between my legs to do a gyn exam. The speculum felt like it was made for a horse and I yelped as he roughly inserted it and spread the blades. Then he sort of moved it in and out as the nurse and Monique watched. I guess the discomfort kept me from gushing but still I was getting aroused.

When the speculum was removed, the doctor pointed out the size of my clitoris to the two women, and proceeded to play with it for a minute. Happily this completed the exam but Monique asked that the nurse get a urine specimen since I had been unable to void earlier. The next thing I knew a catheter was being inserted and I was pretty sure that no lubricant was used.

As I gritted my teeth, Monique said, “Next time, you’ll void when I tell you.”

The six of us were then marched, stark naked down to some holding cells where we were then locked up, two to a cell. The loud clang of the door as it was shut on us reminded me that I was not going anywhere soon. The other woman with me was 2-8-8 and we spent the time getting acquainted. She admitted to me that she had knifed a state official who had tried to rape her at work, and said that her trial had been a farce. I wondered whether this was typical of the country’s judicial system. I went to sleep rather exhausted form the day’s activities wondering what tomorrow would bring and wishing that it was the day after tomorrow, that I had some clothes and was in my own bed.

Chapter Four

Not having a watch, I couldn’t tell what time it was when we were awakened and given a breakfast of sorts. Actually it wasn’t as bad as I expected. Tea, bread and some type of mush that probably was a combination of rice and grain. Then our cell doors were opened and we were lined up, still stark naked, facing the cement wall. On command, we were made to spread our legs and lean forward, remaining in that position until I heard the matron enter.

“I hope you all had a good night’s sleep and are feeling just great. My, what pretty cheeks you have. Up on your toes and stick your bottoms out.” I felt a sharp sting as her whip hit my rump. “Stick them out, I said.” She went down the line hitting each of us one or two blows.

“Now, all of you say, ‘Thank you, matron'” and of course we complied. “Since you are such good new prisoners, turn around and you can put on your new uniforms.” What she handed out was nothing more than a rectangle of orange cloth. It was just large enough to go around my waist, extended down to my upper thighs, and was held tenuously in place by tying two corners above one hip.

“Today, each of you will be assigned a work area, providing that all your paper work has been processed. Then, tomorrow, you will be sent to one of the regular prison areas to begin serving your terms.” She called out our numbers and named work areas. Some of these were in the kitchen, some were obviously cleaning details and I was assigned to the laundry.

Several guards appeared to escort the other prisoners, but it was Monique who came over to me. “Turn around and cross your wrists behind your back.” No sooner had I done this when I felt steel handcuffs being snapped into position. “Now march ahead of me, Mai. I think you are in for a nice relaxing day.”

We went through several locked doors and across a courtyard to the main prison building. Finally we entered what obviously was a laundry room. At one end was an enormous pile of laundry bags. Two very large washing machines stood against one wall, their 2 foot in diameter doors waiting to be fed. Nearby were two dryers and at the other end of the room was a large machine for pressing clothes. The temperature in the place was already hotter and more humid than the outside hallways, despite the fact that as yet the machines were not in use.

A large, black woman in a prisoner’s uniform sat in a chair to one side and got up when Monique and I entered.

“Good morning, matron. Is this my helper for the day? And can you tell me why they won’t give me someone who knows what to do?”

Monique ignored her and simply ordered me to work with the woman and keep my nose clean. As soon as Monique left, the woman began explaining the system which was pretty simple. The bags of laundry all had tags. The orange tags bore numbers that corresponded to individual prisoners. The green tags were used on the guards, matrons and officials laundry and the white were miscellaneous items. Since the bags were made of a strong, open mesh, they could be inserted into the washers and dryers, eliminating the job of sorting things later. The clothing in the green bags, however, later had to be taken out, individually pressed and then packaged.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Mai Ling, what’s yours?” I replied.

“You don’t need to know. Just keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you. Start loading bags into the first washer.”

I could see it was going to be a long day. She showed me how to measure and add the soap powder and then start the automatic washing cycle. Then she returned to her chair and began to read some type of magazine. When the machine turned off, she ordered me to pull out the bags and place them in the dryer. The bags which had been light when dry were now heavy, hot and dripping. I was soon covered with sweat.

As soon as the dryer started, she said, “Well, what are you waiting for. Fill up the other washer, stupid. If you don’t work fast, you will never get all that laundry done.”

“Aren’t you going to help?” I asked. Her response came very fast. She grabbed my arm and swung me against the wall with surprising strength. For a minute I felt dizzy and then realized I was on the floor with her sitting on me.

“I told you to shut up and do what I ordered. If you don’t, I’ll beat you to a pulp and make sure that my pals keep reminding you who the boss is for the next few months. Now get to work.”

I realized I was no match for her and, what the hell, it was only for one day. Over the next few hours I worked like mad, sweating and swearing. It was hard to keep up with the machines. She seemed to take delight in making me press some of the things twice when the folds were not just right. And the pile of dirty laundry bags didn’t seem much smaller than when we started. At what I guessed was mid-day, a male guard entered bringing some water, bread and soup. The guard obviously knew the black woman for they talked about various things that were happening in the prison. I was totally ignored.

Then the guard ordered us back to work. I struggled to my feet from the floor where I had been sitting, aching and wishing the day was over. The two of them watched as I loaded one of the washers, closed the door and started the cycle. They whispered together and then came over to me.

“Mai, you are just about the most stupid prisoner we have seen. Don’t you know the basics of how to wash clothes? You forgot to put in soap.” Oops.

The guard stopped the machine and opened the door while my ‘helper’ threw in some soap. Then the two of them grabbed me and stuck my head through the opening into the washer. One of them said, “See, that’s where it goes. Maybe you want a closer look. Have fun.”

Before I could brace myself, one of them grabbed my legs and together they forced me into the machine and closed the door. There was a sudden roar as the drum began to rotate and hot water streamed in from openings on the back wall. I screamed and looked out the glass door at the two tormenters. I was tumbled over as the clothing bags cascaded down on me. Suds began to form and I wondered whether I was going to survive this. One moment I was head down under water and the next I was falling from the top of the drum. Then I swallowed some of the soapy water and started coughing as I flailed away to try to keep my head up.

As rapidly as it started, the machine stopped, the door opened and my two laughing friends pulled me out. I stood there dripping wet and completely naked for my only piece of clothing was somewhere inside the machine.

“Unless you want to try the dryer, you’d better get to work,” the guard said, obviously enjoying looking me over.

As soon as I returned to work he left. I was madder than hell but realized the futility of trying to do something about my situation. So I just resolved to get it over. By late in the afternoon, I finally finished the last bundle which was labeled for a guard and therefore contained clothing that I pressed as the last step.

I walked into the space where all the dirty laundry had initially been and said, “There, we have done it.” I turned to look at the black woman only to see her squat over the last laundry bundle and piss all over it. It was all it took to send me into a frenzy and I rushed at her, my arms flailing away. A few of my blows landed and she fell to the floor where I pounced on her.

About this time the male guard returned. Seeing what was happening, he put an arm around my neck and wrenched my head back, forcing me to let go of the woman. He threw me onto my stomach and I felt the handcuffs close around my wrists. For the next few minutes, they took turns kicking me until I lay moaning. I then heard the guard calling his superior officer, saying that I had attacked another prisoner,

“Yes, sir,” he said into the phone. “We’ll be very happy to do that with her and, no, we don’t need any help getting her there.”

Much to my dismay, he explained, “1-6-9, you have just earned yourself a little time in solitary. My friend here will keep you company for a few minutes while I get some things to make you compliant.”

When he returned he had a long piece of rope, a roll of tape and a small sack. The tape he wound around my head covering my mouth. Then he pulled the sack down over my head, pulling the drawstring tight around my neck. The two of them hauled me to my feet and I felt him tying one end of the rope through my collar. The other end he passed between my legs. Going behind me, he pulled the rope taught, causing me to bend forward at my waist. Still, the rope burned and cut into my crotch as I tried to beg into the gag.

The tension on the rope combined with swats across my rump from what felt like his belt, caused me to stumble forward. In this way, they drove me along a series of corridors and through several locked doors. When we finally stopped, he removed the sack and tape, pulling it roughly off my face. I was in a medium sized room with a desk and chair at which sat a female guard.

“What have we here?” she asked. The male guard explained what had happened and said that his superior had ordered a period of time in solitary.

“Where is the confinement paper?” she inquired.

“Oh, he said he would fill it out tomorrow or the next day.”

“Now, wait just a minute. I’m supposed to go to the holding area tomorrow at the latest,” I complained.

“Shut up. Kneel down on the floor and kiss my boot right now,” the guard ordered.

“Go to hell, both of you,” I shouted back.

“Oh, stubborn, aren’t you. Well, I just bet we can change your tune.” She walked over to the other side of the room where I could see about six, heavy steel doors that were solid except for a small rectangular opening near the bottom. The doors were only about four feet high and three feet wide. She unlocked one of the doors and pulled it open to reveal a dark interior, the same height and width as the door and only four feet deep.

“You’ll love this little hot box and don’t worry about making too much noise. The walls are very thick. Oh, you won’t need that beautiful skirt you’re half wearing. It would get rather messy in your box.”

As they started to whip my ass toward the open door, I pleaded and tried to kiss her boot.

“Too late for that now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll let you lick my ass hole.” I was pushed into the small cell and the door clanged shut, plunging the room into complete darkness as I yelled ‘please’ at the top of my lungs.

Immediately there was a deep silence. The box was not only very warm but also humid. I could not feel any movement to the air and sensed that I was beginning to panic. Trying to get hold of myself, I decided to feel my way around the cell. This was difficult with my hands locked behind me. All I could touch was warm, solid steel until I got to the bottom of the door where I could feel an empty tray and wondered what it was for. In any case I could not move it much at all. It certainly was not a toilet. In fact I didn’t have a toilet and guessed that what the guard was implying when she talked about getting messy.

Then it came to me. The tray was for passing food into the cell without opening the door. This reminded me that I was thirsty and hungry. At least they could give me some water. I got over on my back and tried kicking at the door but all that did was hurt my foot. So I tried just resting on my side. Within a few minutes my compressed arm was getting numb from lying on it.

Maybe I could work my shackled wrists down over my rump and get them in front of me but my ass proved to be too big. I ended up sitting with my back against one wall, beginning to sweat and wondering whether anyone ever went insane just being confined in this way. And how did you keep track of time?

I sat there for a long time wondering whether the walls were closing in on me. Then I heard a metallic scraping to one side, followed by a something being placed on metal. Finally there was a repeat of the scraping. I was disoriented as to which wall the door was on but worked by way over towards the source of the noise. My hands behind me came into contact with the tray at the bottom of the door. This time I felt something in the tray and realized that it was a hard roll and a metal bottle. I placed both the roll and bottle on the floor and proceeded to examine the bottle, finding a cork in the neck. Concerned that if I took the cork out with my hands, I might then knock the thing over before I could get my mouth on the opening.

So I left it standing on the floor and worked my way around until I could carefully approach the bottle with my knees slightly apart. Holding the bottle between my knees, I bent forward and pulled the cork out with my teeth. Then I put my lips on the mouth of the bottle and slowly tipped it over. Happily, the contents were water although it had a somewhat stale taste. I guess I drank about half of it and then thought that it might be sometime before I got more, so I saved what was left. Carefully, I stood the bottle straight up in the cell corner near the door and went to work on the roll. It was hard and dry, but I was hungry and grateful for anything. After finishing it, I had another sip of water and guessed that this completed dinner.

My next task was to figure out what to do about urinating. Actually I didn’t have much choice. I explored the floor with my cuffed hands and could fine no holes or drainage areas. So I worked my way into a corner and let go. Then I just tried to relax and think of all the nice things that had happened in my life, but it was very difficult to ignore the ache in my arms from being behind me, the complete darkness, the heat and humidity, and the urine on the floor. I lay down and tried to find the least uncomfortable position.

Between short naps, I finished off the water and began to get more and more thirsty. Rapping the bottle against the door produced no response so I gave that up. Finally I guess I did get a little sleep.

When I awakened I had no idea whether it was morning but I sure hoped so. This meant I would be released. Suddenly I heard the drawer being slid out and then back in. I felt inside the drawer and there was nothing there, no roll, no water, nothing. Maybe they wanted the bottle back, so with difficulty I found the bottle and noisily dropped it into the drawer along with the cord which I located with difficulty. Soon the drawer retracted and a few minutes later slid back in…..this time with a full bottle and another roll. Breakfast !!

Sometime later, probably midday, the door suddenly opened. The light coming in was practically blinding after being in complete darkness for so long. As I shielded my eyes, a blast of lukewarm water hit me. I could tell it was coming from a hose. Except for the force of the stream, it really felt good for it was washing off the sweat and getting rid of the urine and smell. When the water stopped, I could see my female guard standing there, the nozzle in her hand.

“Now before you say a word, shut up or I slam the door in your face. Understand?” she asked. I nodded affirmatively.

“Okay. Now if you know what’s good for you, you will crawl out here and kiss my boot and then you will say, “Thank you, mistress'”.

I hurried to comply, saying “Thank you, mistress,” as nicely as I could.

“Good. Now I want you to lick my ass hole and thank me.”

I thought for a brief moment and decided that I had better do what she said. As I tasted her sweat and a little smear of feces, I wondered what was going to happen next.

“Fine. You are learning. Now open your mouth so I can wash it out.” She plunged a bar of soap between my teeth and immediately pulled it out leaving soap scrapings. I sputtered but kept from saying anything. Then she gave me a glass of water to rinse out my mouth.

“Good. Now you can start kissing my thighs and slowly work your way up to my passion centers. I want you to gently get me excited and then make me cum. If you stop, you’ll feel my whip on your way back into your little cell. Understand?”

I nodded and started to work as she pulled up her skirt, revealing no panties, and sat down with her knees spread apart. There appeared to be no alternatives. No one else was in the room, but with my wrists in handcuffs, I knew I could not over power her. Soon I was tasting her juices. She grabbed my head and forced my mouth up against her vagina and clitoris as she began to moan softly. Then she was bucking against me, culminating in a long, partially stifled cry.

“Well, you could have done better but it wasn’t bad. Now as a reward, I bet you would like those wrists out from behind you, but don’t try any funny stuff. The doors to this solitary confinement area are locked from outside so you can’t go anywhere. Remember, no talking.”

She opened one cuff and I brought my hands in front of me as my shoulders screamed from being held in the exaggerated position. She placed my still cuffed hand on my ankle and closed the cuff around it. With another pair of handcuffs, she locked my other wrist to the other ankle. At least the position was more comfortable.

“Now as an additional reward for being so cooperative, here’s a banana.” She stripped the peels back and held it out for me. “I want you to lick it and suck the end just as you would a man’s penis. That’s it. Work on it and imagine it getting larger and larger. You want it don’t you?”

The fact of the matter was that it tasted very good and I was getting aroused by the whole idea. Finally she let me eat it.

“Now turn around on your knees and face your cell. Good, get your knees apart and lift up your ass for me. And I don’t want a sound from you. Would you like another banana?”

I nodded and suddenly felt the banana, skin intact, being inserted into my moist vagina. I squirmed forward but she stayed with me. When I stopped just outside the cell, her whip came crashing down on my back. I screamed and cursed at her, but with ease she pushed me into the cell and slammed the door. The sound of the lock closing just about sent me over the edge. Again, I was in complete darkness, sweating, and getting disoriented.

Then the feeling of the banana still stuck in me became the center of my attention. I wondered whether I could get off on it but this proved to be impossible. My movements dislodged it so I simply ended up eating the darn thing.

While I had been outside, I had noticed that a wall clock indicated that it was about 10:30 in the morning. As additional time passed, I realized that I was not going to be released before noon. This further depressed me. Was I in fact going to be a prisoner? I couldn’t believe that the warden and Joe Branigan were going to leave me there. Maybe they didn’t know where I was.

The position of my arms was certainly a great deal more comfortable and I must have snoozed from time to time. I was aware that they fed me a roll and water through the sliding tray on at least two occasions.

Finally I heard the lock being manipulated, the door opened and there stood the warden with Monique.

“Mai, we finally found you, thanks to Monique here,” he said. “When you weren’t in the holding cells yesterday, we wondered whether you had escaped and searched most of the prison. We even called Joe who was very upset that you had disappeared. Today, Monique heard some rumors about what had happened in the laundry and finally located you here. We are so sorry. But now you really know what it is like to be a prisoner. Monique will get you cleaned up, provide you with a prison dress and get you over to my office area. I’ll call Joe for you. Again, I am really sorry about what happened.”

Monique couldn’t have been nicer and it wasn’t long before I was in my own clothes, the collar was off my neck, I was breathing fresh air and the only signs of prison were my number written across my chest and the red marks of the lashings.

Chapter Five

That evening Joe took me to a rather good restaurant. I was still a mixture of nerves but the food tasted wonderful and he was the perfect gentleman. He said he had invited Monique but she was working a double shift and couldn’t join us. She however had wanted me to have her address and telephone number hoping that we could get together sometime. I looked over the slip of paper he gave me and wondered why she had done this. Certainly she had not been very gentle with me, and yet she had seemed interested. Oh well.

After dinner, he took me back to the little hotel I was staying in and we had a drink in the bar. During the conversation, he said, “I doubt whether you are interested after what you have been through, but I was told today that a group of female prisoners are being taken by boat to the work camp up the river the day after tomorrow. When I mentioned this to you the first day, you seemed intrigued. I have to be there because I have a client who has been sentenced to seven years of hard labor and I have to get a few things settled with her.”

I replied, “Joe, thanks for thinking of me. I was interested but now I would like to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll give you a call tomorrow at your office. Probably I’ll decline your offer. I have been through a lot, and remember I have flight back to the United States in three days.”

We said good night and it wasn’t long before I was in an exhausted sleep.

The next day, other than for a few sore spots, I felt great. I spent some time writing down some thoughts and impressions for the report on crime and the penal system of this country. Certainly my experiences would have deterred me from committing a felony but I wondered whether prison here was that different from the U.S. Maybe the work camps were the difference. After mulling this over, I decided that getting a feel of the prisoners being sent away to a work camp was a good idea. And Joe would be there with me.

So I gave him a call and let him know my decision. He said, “Fine, I would enjoy your company and have procured a pass that will get you onto the dock area. You will not be able to go onto the boat but will have a good view. Also, you will be able to talk briefly to my client who incidentally is also from the United States.”

I was astonished by this last bit of news and started asking questions. He replied that I could ask her tomorrow but that she essentially was being sentenced for the same things that he and the warden had placed on my fictional record. That’s where the idea apparently had arisen. I asked whether the US government hadn’t gotten involved, but he said that because of the drugs involved they weren’t interested. Besides, they didn’t want to upset relations with the country.

We finished our telephone conversation after agreeing that he would pick me up at 6:00 a.m. the next morning. I then had a relaxing day writing and seeing the city.

I was up early the next day, beating the alarm clock. Probably I was excited. After a hearty breakfast I went out to await Joe. The day was already hot and humid. Thank goodness the hotel room had some degree of air-conditioning. Joe was right on time and we chatted away as he drove. He explained that he didn’t know the details of the conditions in the work camps because prisoners who returned after serving their terms were very reluctant to talk. Apparently anything said about the camps could get a prisoner re-sentenced. He added that, to his knowledge, no one had escaped from the particular camp destined for the prisoners that day.

Arriving at the fenced in dock area, we showed our passes to the guard at the gate and were admitted. Joe seemed to know where to go. There were several shed like buildings along one side of the dock and in the water, tied up to the other side, was a long rather primitive looking boat. It was more or less open, with a canopy over part of it. A cabin of sorts was located forward and some type of engine was in the middle of the boat with a rusty smoke stack rising from it. There were about four or five plain benches aft of the engine, with a walk way on either side.

Already there was one woman sitting on the forward bench. As we got closer I could see that she had a steel collar around her neck and a chain ran from the deck beside her, to the collar and then across the rest of the bench. She was nude except for the collar and a short skirt. While I was looking at her fascinated by what I was seeing and wondering what she was feeling, a second woman was being pulled across the ramp to the boat. She was similarly dressed, bore a number across her chest, and a collar around her neck. The guard was pulling on a rope attached to this collar and her hands were bound with rope behind her. When they got her into position beside the first woman, the bench chain was attached and her wrists released.

“They seem to be taking this pretty calmly,” I said to Joe.

“Some do for they have probably just given up, but some give the guards a hard time,” he replied.

“What happens then?”

“Well, let’s just wait a few minutes and maybe you’ll see.”

Sure enough. After a few other women had gone on board docilely, two guards appeared with another prisoner. Over the head of this one was some type of leather helmet that was strapped in place. Around her neck was not only the steel collar but some type of choke chain which one guard was pulling. She was otherwise completely bare. Her wrists and also her elbows were bound tightly behind her. Also her knees were tightly lashed together allowing her only a short, stumbling gait. The second guard was raining a series of blows on her sweating back, ass, and thighs with a leather, braided whip. I could tell she was crying or moaning but the helmet effectively muffled this.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as they hauled her forward of the benches. There I could now see a low pillory of sorts, with holes for arms, necks, and ankles, I guessed. She was thrown forward on her knees and her neck was then locked into one section of the pillory. Her arms and knees were not untied. With a final lashing, she was left.

I stared at the boat and the women, wondering whether anyone would believe me if I reported this inhuman business.

Joe interrupted my thoughts by saying that he had to meet his client and I was to come along. As we walked, I asked him whether he had ever seen one of the helmets up close and he said yes but didn’t elaborate. Going into one of the buildings, he talked briefly to a clerk and then led me down past several rooms with closed doors. Stopping at the last room, he knocked and the door was opened by a guard who Joe seemed to know and who let us in and shut the door behind us.

There were a couple of chairs and a table in the room but what immediately got my attention was a blond woman in an orange prisoners uniform, standing with her back to an upright pole that extended from the floor to the ceiling. Her wrists were behind the pole, locked in handcuffs. She was about my height, maybe a little heavier. A rose tatoo adorned her right arm.

“Where the hell have you been?” she said to Joe. “I don’t know why the fuck I ever hired you as my lawyer. You said at the trial you could probably get me off, and then you said you’d make sure I wasn’t sent up the river, yet here I am. And who the hell is the broad with you?”

“Now, Jani, simmer down. I’m still working on it. This is Mai Ling who is from the U.S. and is here as an observer. Be nice to her because she may be able to help you. Answer any questions she may ask while I get out some papers.”

I asked her whether she was frightened about going to a work camp.

“Of course I am, stupid. And what do you think I’ll be like in seven years…if I survive. Come on, Joe, do something.”

Joe turned to the guard and asked, “Do you think you could get one of the discipline helmets to show my guest here?” Joe started taking some papers from his briefcase as the guard left.

My pulse jumped a little. There was no question about my being interested. The guard soon returned and handed me the helmet. It was heavier than I expected, being made of thick leather. Several straps were attached. Looking at the front I could see that there were small holes located where the person’s nostrils would be, but no eye or mouth openings. Inside, fixed to the front of the helmet was a pear-shaped, leather protuberance, obviously made to go into the mouth. There were also inner pads positioned to cover the eyes and ears.

“Sort of scary, isn’t it?” Joe said at my elbow. “Want to try it on?”

“No, I don’t think so, but it is fascinating in a way. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” I kept turning it over and wondering what it would feel like, and hoped that my excitement wouldn’t be noticed.

“Okay, but you are missing an opportunity that may never come your way again,” he said.

I decided what the hell. “Well, just for a few minutes.”

I brought it up and carefully put my face inside, opening my mouth to take in the pear which slipped past my teeth. As it went in, my mouth was partly closed by the pressure of the chin part of the helmet. I folded the back portions together around my head and noticed I was getting excited. Embarrassed, I took the helmet off and saw Joe grinning at me.

“That wasn’t a few minutes. Guess you were scared”

“No, not really,” I replied. “But I couldn’t see how the straps worked.” I knew I was lying to some extent but didn’t want to confess to being aroused.

Joe answered, “Well put it back on and I’ll fasten the straps, just for a few minutes and then I have to get to work with Jani.”

So I got my head back in the thing and put my hands down as I felt him overlap the back pieces and start threading the straps through their buckles. As he pulled these tighter, my head was forced forward. My eyes met the soft pads which immediately cut off all light and the pear was forced completely into my mouth, filling it. Then I felt the neck portion being drawn snug as the last strap was buckled. I reached up and felt the leather, tightly molded to my face. As my forearms touched the front of my breasts, I realized that my nipples were firm, large and sensitive.

This pleasurable feeling was suddenly cut off by feeling someone push me against the post. Another pair of hands grabbed my wrists, pulling them back around the upright. Then cold steel cuffs were snapped around them.

“Stop,” I tried to say but all I could manage was a muffled “aw”. Then hands were working on Jani’s wrists, immediately below mine. She was being released for some reason. I tried pulling my hands free but the cuffs were far too tight. Why wasn’t the guard doing something? But then I realized that the guard might be working with Joe.

Faintly through the helmet, I heard Joe say, “Help me get her undressed and then we’ll get her trussed up.” My skirt and panties were stripped down to the floor, and my blouse was unfastened and pushed down my arms to the post. Finally, my bra was roughly pulled off.

Jani said, “Oh, look. She already has a prison number. How did you work that?”

“It took a little bit of planning. I think of everything. Look, you are going to get her clothes, her passport after a few changes in her picture and her airline tickets. Tonight, baby, you are going to show me a real good time. Tomorrow if you fork over that money from your drug deals, you are out of here.”

“Joe, I must say, I owe you big.”

During this banter, I was trying to scream and stay away from their hands. Someone was wrapping rope tightly around my knees. Then my wrists cuffs were opened and I was forced down onto my stomach as my blouse was pulled the rest of the way off. As they started to tie my wrists, I tried to bunch up my hands to form a little space up from them, but whoever was doing the tying knew his business. The loops were cinched very tightly together and the knots were well away from my fingers. Then my elbows were pulled together until they touched and tied in that position.

I was placed on my feet and I heard the guard say, “Here’s her collar. I’ll get the choke chain and a little help. Have my money ready when I return.”

Joe then said to me, “Mai, in a way I am sorry this had to be you, but you just happened along at the right time.” With that he closed the steel collar around my neck and locked it in place. His hands gently caressed by breasts and felt my nipples as I tried to move away from him. He just chuckled. “Hope I never see you again,” were his last words.

Then I felt a chain being placed around my neck. This was then tightened and I was pulled forward, stumbling because of my bound knees. There was a swish and a fiery smack from a whip across my lower back. I screamed but had to follow the chains tug to keep from being choked. I sensed that I was out in the bright sun and then felt the ramp to the boat under my feet. I momentarily stopped moving my feet and was rewarded by further lashes and then a tug on the chain sent me sprawling onto the deck. They hauled me to my feet and pushed me forward.

Finally I was out from under the canopy and being made to kneel down. I knew what was going to happen next. As my helmeted head was firmly held, my neck felt the wooden cross pieces of the pillory close about it. Sobbing, I gave up.

Chapter Six

The engine was giving out a steady, throbbing beat and we were well underway. A slight breeze created by the motion of the boat was a little relief from the broiling sun, but without any canopy over me I was still very hot, sweaty and miserable. I was trying my best to get hold of myself and figure out how to improve my situation. My main goal was to convince whoever was in charge of the boat that I had been switched for the real prisoner. What information they had on me must be in his hands.

Jani was blond whereas I was black haired, and our prison numbers had to be different so my job should be easy if they only I could get them to listen.

My hands were going numb from the constriction of the ropes, and I struggled to keep from tipping over, my bound knees not offering much of a platform. If I fell I might choke because of the pillory I was in. Occasionally, some one passing behind me would give me a swat on my ass but there came a time when someone stopped and gently felt down along my waist. Then his hands moved up to my good sized breasts and played with my nipples which hardened immediately. Next I felt his hand trying to get between my upper thighs but my knees were kept tightly together by the binding of my knees.

I moaned a little as an automatic response kicked in and was rewarded by feeling him cut through the ropes, first around my elbows and then around my lower thighs. The relief was immediate. I could feel the blood beginning to flow to my hands and fingers and could separate my knees. I tried, somewhat ineffectively to say thank you but really didn’t know what language to use. Then I heard his voice saying in a cross between Thai and Vietnamese, “I’ll be back later”.

Maybe he was the answer. If I could make him feel sorry for me, perhaps he would remove the helmet and then I could ask him to check the records. I knelt there sweating in the hot sun and hoping for his return.

It seemed like ages before I felt a gentle stroke on my rump. The hand then gradually approached my labia, playing with the folds. I responded with a soft moan as my juices began to flow, and separated my knees to make things easier. I was going to make sure he had a good time. With his knees between mine, I felt him come up against me, his bulge pressing into the cleft between my buttocks.

Then after fumbling with his pants he was knocking at my doorway…and I let him in. Surprisingly, he was gentle whereas I expected the worst. He played and teased. Before long I was doing most of the moving, but the wood around my neck limited things. At that point he completely took over, thrusting away until we both came. Gradually, he left me but a few minutes later, he untied my hands and massaged the circulation back into them. Then he placed them in holes in the pillory which he immediately closed. At least it was more comfortable.

“If I remove the helmet, you must be very quiet. I have permission to give you a drink but any noise or trouble will get you the helmet again,” he said. I nodded in reply.

When the last strap was loosened, the fresh air felt wonderful. “Thank you very much kind sir” I said softly. He helped me drink a little, rather stale tasting water but to me it was nectar.

“I must go but I will come back later. You must remain silent.”

“But..” I started to say but was cut off when he put his hand across my mouth.

By the time he returned, I was aching from the bent over posture and the pressure from the boards on my knees. He gave me another drink and sat down in front of me.

“Jani, you are very pretty. You have large breasts and are very passionate. I’m sorry you are here.”

“Thank you, whoever you are. But you have to help me. I am not Jani. A man switched me for her at the dock. My name is Mai Ling and I am from the United States.”

His reaction was to laugh quietly but then he saw I was serious and gave me a chance to explain the situation in more detail. Finally he agreed to discuss what I was saying with the chief of the prison detail. But when he returned later he was alone. Apparently the chief officer couldn’t care who I was. He had the appropriate number of prisoners aboard and that was what mattered.

“I’m sorry, Mai Ling. I do believe you and will get word to some people I know at the work camp when we arrive.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Since I didn’t yell or give them any trouble, my helmet was left off but I remained in the stocks and got little sleep. Arriving at the work camp, I was finally released from the pillory. Stretching my sore limbs, I watched as they unloaded the prisoners and herded them ashore where several men in uniform stood waiting. Nearby there was a large flatbed wagon with four huge wheels. Along the wagon tongue, about eight women were chained. Numerous semi-open buildings were located in the distance behind a high chain fence.

Finally the three of us who had suffered, naked in the pillory were taken off the boat and made to kneel near where the men stood waiting. One them stepped forward to address the new prisoners.

“I am the warden of this camp and am here to welcome you. You are here to work hard, to obey all orders quickly and without question and to stay out of trouble. I noticed that several of you have been looking around at our surroundings. Escape is impossible. The river belongs to the crocodiles and the piranhas. The jungles cannot easily be penetrated, are uninhabited and the insects and animals will eat you alive. Plus our dogs love a good chase. Any attempts to escape will result in severe punishment including severing your ankle tendons.”

“Most of you will be working one way or another to cut, load and ship sugar cane. Others will work in the gardens, the kitchens, the laundry and other places. Good behavior will be rewarded and some of you in time may become trustees. Bad behavior leads to suffering.”

He went on to describe how the prisoners were divided up into separate housing and work groups. As I looked around I saw the guard from the boat talking to two of the prison guards and all three looked at me on several occasions. Hopefully this was about my false imprisonment. It amazed me that all the guards were men and wondered whether the prisoners had any type of organization or representation in the scheme of things. Apparently the trustees played a pretty important role.

“Now I want all the new prisoners with skirts to climb up and sit down on the sugar cane wagon for the ride into the camp. The three of you who are naked and obviously are trouble makers are to start your days here a little differently,” the warden said and whispered something to the guards that stood behind him.

One by one, the three of us were pushed and whipped over to the wagon and made to stand near the wheels. The other two then watched as did those on the wagon while I was backed up to a wheel and then bound, spread eagled to the spokes, the hub pressing hard into the small of my arched back. The leather strips were very tight on my wrists and ankles, and when I started struggling and protesting, one of the guards with a grin on his face, simple wound another strip around my head and open mouth, gagging me.

After the other two were placed on wheels, I heard a crack of a whip and a command to the women chained to the tongue of the wagon which immediately started moving. I felt myself begin to turn with the wheel and as it moved faster and faster the alternating pull on my arms and legs made me wonder whether my joints could endure the punishment. I continued to cry for them to stop but all this did was to make a guard walk beside me, swatting my bare body from time to time with his whip.

When we finally reached the administration building, the prisoners were unloaded and led towards the other buildings. Only then were the three of us freed from the wheels, to collapse on the ground.

“That should take some of the fight out of you, but to make sure, you are going to enjoy a night under the stars and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you or else you will serve time in the hot box tomorrow,” observed this warden who I was beginning to hate. It did not seem like an appropriate time to explain how I came to be there.

One of the guards led us around to the side of the building where there were eight or so foot thick, vertical poles anchored firmly in the dirt. Each of us was made to face and encircle a pole while our wrists were placed in iron manacles. Then we were left. It wasn’t long before we were sitting on the ground, trying to get comfortable in the hot sun. I wondered whether I should say anything to the other two but found myself scared that we would be overheard if we started talking.

With sweat running down my body, I began to long for a drink of water and for sundown. But with sunset, the temperature began to drop and soon the three of us were shaking and trying to curl up. One of the guards came by, stopped and prodded the woman on the next post who started pleading. I couldn’t understand what she said but the result was a few lashes with the whip that all guards seemed to carry. When he came to me, he simply said, “Nice ass,” smiled and left. The night crept by very slowly. My teeth were chattering, I was constantly trying to move to keep warm and on top of everything the mosquitoes found us. Soon I was covered with bites including several around my eyes.

Finally dawn came and with it a guard who unlocked our wrists and gave us gray pieces of cloth to wrap around our bodies. Because the rectangles were so small, they could only be used to cover our bellies and buttocks, but they did restore a little dignity. Then we were led over to where the other twelve or so new inmates, dressed similar to us, had spent the night and were being held. Mingling with them we learned that the gray color indicated we were new to the camp, that other colors indicated different housing and work areas, and that they had been treated fairly well, unlike the three of us. I was feeling somewhat faint, very thirsty and quite hungry after the long night and so when bowls and cups were handed out, the idea of eating and drinking made anything look good. The morning meal consisted mainly of rice, some type of sauce, a citrus fruit of some kind, and tea, all served by some of the regular prisoners. Eating with our hands proved messy but no one complained.

At the sound of a whistle, we were ordered to line up outside, marched over to another building and then commanded to sit quietly. A guard then pulled one of the women to her feet and led her inside, followed soon afterwards by another. Just what was going on was not clear but we could hear some protests and some clanging, metallic noises.

Soon it was my turn and on entering, I was strapped into a chair in front of a table. An officer seated on the other side looked at the still visible number written across my chest several days before, checked a book in front of him and nodded to a woman standing nearby. She wore a tan shirt, shorts and low boots obviously indicating a position different from the rest of us, but she also had a thick iron collar around her neck. Later I learned that she was a senior trustee. After adjusting some type of device that she held in one hand, she pressed it against the outside of my forearm and there was a sudden thud accompanied by a little pain. When I looked down I saw imprinted into my arm a six digit number, 169772. I had been tattooed!!

As I tried to come to grips with this realization, I was hauled from the chair, taken to the next room and made to kneel with my head on an iron anvil. A guard and another trustee held me there while a thick, metal collar was closed around my neck. From a nearby forge, a red hot bolt was taken, passed through the clasp on the collar and hammered in such a way as to blunt the narrow end to keep the bolt from being removed. It all happened so quickly that my protest was just a feeble, “No, please don’t”. But as the guard was leading me out, I told him that it was important that I speak to the warden. He ordered me to be silent but did look as if he had heard the request.

Most of the morning was spent in receiving instruction in how to follow orders, address the guards and survive. Then we got our work assignments and since it was sugar cane harvesting time, most of these activities involved the cutting, chopping, carrying, loading and processing of the cane. I was assigned to a group that had to pull the leaves off the canes after they had been cut close to the ground, and then carry the canes to the wagons for transportation. Before the day was out, I was sweating with the others, cursing the flies and aching from the labor. I was able to learn the techniques without difficulty and avoided some of the lashing others received.

It was amazing to see the cutters swinging their machetes, lopping off the canes close to the ground. A few of the women were trustees but others were simply very strong prisoners with red rectangles for skirts. Obviously they were in excellent physical condition from the looks of their muscles. One of the guards who seemed to take an interest in me explained that these women had all been in the camp for some time, loved the strength training they had received and could be trusted with the sharp knives, although I noticed that armed guards seemed to watch them closely.

When the whistle blew ending the work day, I was herded with the other “gatherers” to a large building that was on stilts and was screened. This apparently was to be my home. I was told to find a sleeping pad that did not have a number and to scratch my own number at the head. The pads were made of some type of thatch and all the good ones had numbers, but finally I found one that needed only a few repairs and dutifully scratched my number making it mine. With my language skills I was able to converse with the other prisoners but they did laugh at my accent.

The women proved to be very helpful in telling me the routines and how to survive, including how to make some sandals to cover my very sore and somewhat cut up feet. I also met the trustee who was in charge of the building and from her received a plate, spoon and blanket. Very soon after the evening meal, I said good night to the sympathetic women with nearby pads and collapsed under the blanket. They had learned of my previous night and could tell I was exhausted. Perhaps tomorrow I would tell them of how I came to be there.

Chapter Seven

Over the next few days I started to get comfortable with the routine of eating, working, eating and sleeping. By the end of each day I was exhausted and realized that I was getting physically stronger but mentally feebler despite trying to stay alert and imaginative. The guard at work continued to tell me things about the camp, the warden and the sugar cane processing.

I learned that the processing of the cane took place at the mill which was located in a part of the camp I had not seen. There the cane was crushed and passed between heavy rollers that squeezed out the juice which was boiled to produce a syrup called massecuite, which was then centrifuged to produce sugar crystals together with what I knew as blackstrap molasses. The solid material that remains after the rolling is called bagasse which is dried and then used as the fuel to power the mill and boilers.

The work of the prisoners at the mill was considered to be dangerous and arduous. Severe injuries and even deaths occurred as the women fed the canes into the rollers, and those assigned to feed the dried bagasse into the furnaces were chained in an underground area where the heat was intense. Thus the mill work was used to punish those who caused trouble or couldn’t obey orders.

On about my fourth day in camp, during roll call, my name and number were called out by one of the guards, and I was ordered to remain standing in place when the other women went off to their work assignments. What now I thought.

“Jani, I understand that you asked to speak to the warden. You know this is very unusual and I don’t know why he has agreed. But you are to come with me. Don’t try anything funny and remain silent until you are asked to speak.”

He ordered me to follow him (walking several paces behind with my head lowered) over to the administration building and into a room furnished with a table and several chairs. I was made to stand in the space in front of the table while he lowered a trapeze-like bar. Looking up I saw that it was suspended by a slender metal cable that went up through a pulley mounted on the high ceiling and then over to a crank mechanism on the wall. I shuddered a little as the guard fastened my wrists in broad leather manacles on each end of the bar and then turned the crank until my hands were pointing directly up, but without any strain on my arms.

“Now stand there and remain quiet. The warden will join you when he is ready,” he said as he left.

This was not quite my idea of an audience with the warden but I knew I had to make the best of it and tried to compose my thoughts as to what to say. Keep it simple, respectful and honest. Time passed and my arms began to ache from their position. Maybe I was making a mistake but it was a risk worth taking when compared to a long stay in the camp.

The warden arrived, conversing with an aide about food and other supplies. Finally he looked at me and told the aide to raise me a little higher and remove my cloth wrap. Several turns on the crank and I was now standing on tiptoes, completely nude. The warden then walked up, ran his hands over my breasts and inspected the whip marks on my body. He smiled as I tried to remain still.

“Well, Jani, I hear you wanted to speak with me. And I also understand from another source that you think you don’t belong here. This amuses me. What do you have to say for your self?”

“Sir, thank you for seeing me. First of all, my name isn’t Jani, it’s Mai Ling Foster and I am from the United States. At the prisoner loading area before coming here I was switched for this Jani woman.”

The warden smiled again and asked his aide to get my complete file, ordering me to keep quiet until it came. Then after reading through it he said, “Jani, everything here seems to be in order and it does confirm that you are American. There is nothing here about a Mai Ling. And your tattooed number corresponds to the file number. Tell me more.”

“Sir, Jani is blonde and not of Asian blood like me. This must be obvious. Also, her finger prints would be different.”

He had me lowered and then looked carefully at one of my still manacled hands. Then he held up the open file in front of me. There staring out was my picture, front view and side view as well as a full nude picture of me. I gasped realizing that these were pictures taken at the prison during my short stay there. I also guessed that the finger prints in the file would be mine. That bastard of a lawyer had gotten the whole thing from that prison warden.

“Jani, you’re not saying much. The picture looks like you doesn’t it. Do you have anything more convincing to tell me?”

“Please sir, let me start at the beginning.” I proceeded to tell him how I came to be in is country, my interest in questions regarding prisons, Joe Branigan, my short stay in prison including the pictures and finger printing, and finally the horrible switch that occurred with the real Jani.

I saw that his interest increased when I mentioned the prison warden and Joe Branigan. Then at the end of my story he burst into laughter. The aide who had seemed to be accepting what I had to say, looked at this commander and then joined in the laughter.

“Jani,” the warden said between laughs, “you really don’t think that I am going to fall for that farfetched yarn. Just the idea of someone volunteering to be imprisoned for two days is crazy. And I know Joe well. He donates large amounts each year to my “prison fund” which helps to make my life here more enjoyable…..along with stories such as yours. And two Americans in the same place at the same time!! No, Jani. Your story is amusing and so unbelievable that I am not going to consider this an escape attempt.”

As my spirits sank and I came close to crying, I said, “Sir, it’s the truth, I swear. And a call to the hotel where I was staying will prove I was there. And maybe the American consulate can confirm that I am a writer for the United Nations.”

After more laughter he picked up the phone and actually called the hotel I named. He then asked whether a Mai Ling from America had been staying there. After a short interval, he thanked the person on the line and hung up. “Jani, they don’t remember any Mai Ling. And I’m not going to make a fool of myself by calling the consulate.” And then he and the aide again started laughing as I tried to think what to do or say.

“Jani, I want to thank you for an interesting and fun morning. I can’t wait to tell the president of our country about you when he comes for his annual visit next month. Now in appreciation for your imagination, you are going to receive 40 lashes hanging there with your head in a punishment helmet. Then after you recover in the infirmary, you will go to work in the mill where you will wear the helmet during the days. Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll then see how you train as a hostess in preparation for the president’s visit. Have fun.”

The two of them left as I said, “Please Sir,…” When the aide returned he was carrying a black, thick helmet. He went behind me, grabbed my hair forcing my head back, and, despite my struggles and protests, slipped the helmet down. There were small eye and nose holes, pads covered my ears and there was a ball gag in my mouth which had a small air passage running through it. I could see just a small area and my hearing was reduced. Already my head and face were hot and I was concerned about getting enough air. Then the pull on my arms increased until I was swinging free of the floor, twisting on the cable.

Then with a fiery slash, I felt the whip tear across my back. Never had I felt such a pain, and as it took my breath away, a second blow fell across my midriff. I sensed that I was spinning more. I tried to look out through the small holes in the hope of seeing where the blows were coming and thereby protecting myself, but this was useless. The third blow struck and I tried to think of the fun, passion and sexual arousal that had come from the playful spankings and light flogging sessions that I had previously experienced on a few occasions with lovers. This helped but not enough to make the ensuing series of blows tolerable. I was crying and pleading into the gag and helmet, sweat breaking out over my entire body.

From time to time I heard the aide say, “Eighteen, nineteen……..twenty four…..twenty six…” But gradually my mind was getting numb from the searing pain, awakened only when a particularly severe blow struck a sensitive area of my breasts or inner thighs. Finally I escaped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Eight

When I awakened, I was lying face down on a cot and someone was applying a cool salve to my back. Turning my head, I could see a large, black woman, collared and wearing a brief, wrap around skirt. She smiled at me and encouraged me to lie still while she finished treating the cuts from the lashing. Later I was to find that although some were bleeding, none were real deep. Still my entire body felt like it was burning up, yet I was cold. Then she had me turn over to administer to my front. When I did this I found that one ankle was chained to the bottom of the bed and beside me lay the helmet.

During the next few days I slowly recovered my strength. At night, I was allowed to sleep without the helmet, but during the daytime hours it was locked on. I learned that I could sip in water through the small hole in the mouth gag, and my breakfast and evening meals were presented when the helmet was off.

The black woman became my friend as well as my nurse, and was mainly responsible for bringing me up from the depression that had followed the whipping. She said, “There is always hope.” How she could say this when I learned that she had been in the camp several years was not clear but perhaps it was because she was helping others.

Gradually I recovered my strength and with it came the idea that perhaps if I worked it right I could present my case to the president when he visited. Therefore I had to be accepted into that “hostess” program, and certainly had to come up with a much better presentation of how I came to be there.

Then the day came when I was judged ready to go to work, and as promised I was taken to the huge mill, my head covered by the helmet and my ankles in chains. After only a few words of instruction from the guards and some of the other prisoners, I found myself shoveling the dried bagasse through the fire doors of the boilers. The area was beneath the main, ground floor of the mill and as such was dark and very hot. Only by working for short periods and then resting and drinking could anyone survive the conditions. And the sound of the boilers together with the heavy rollers and gears was deafening.

But survive I did. Each day when my helmet was finally removed, I found some solace in talking with the other prisoners. There was a certain comradeship among the group. Working together, eating together, sleeping together and sharing our misfortunes together made us feel special and maybe better than the other prisoners. It certainly helped me. The days and weeks passed, and I became lean and strong. Although some of the prisoners talked of escape, it was mostly to pass the time. For me, I was still thinking that some how I could convince someone that I was wrongfully imprisoned.

Then the day came when I was not taken with the others to the mill nor was the helmet locked on my head. Instead a guard told me to pick up my few belongings and follow him.

“Jani, I hope you like your new assignment and do well for it may mean an easier life for you as well as a chance for some of us to get to know you better. You are going to be tried as a hostess along with some others but only one or two of you will succeed,” the guard commented as we walked towards a different area of the camp.

“Sir, may I ask a question?” I ventured.

“Yes, but keep your voice down for we are not supposed to be talking.”

“What does a hostess do here?”

“Well there are about ten hostesses in the group currently and they keep us guards happy. You work in a social hall, serving us drinks, entertaining us and supplying our needs. Duty in this camp for most of us is a bitch, made acceptable only by good pay, occasional vacations and time to spend in the recreation building with girls like you. Some of the guys can be rough but most are looking for companionship and safe sex. You get a chance to wear some nice clothes, eat better food and get some thrills. A little drinking is allowed but no drugs.”

I was curious about where we lived and whether we had guards over us and found that our quarters were near the rec hall, that there were some additional rooms used for “entertaining” and that our boss was the wife of the warden.

“She can be a real bitch and doesn’t put up with any crap from her girls or her customers, but she makes sure the customers are happy and get what they pay for. She probably makes a bundle off of us but we have little else to spend our pay on. There are rumors that she gets her kicks from the few prisoners assigned to her personal quarters, and no one knows how she really gets along with the warden. Anyway, she is the person who says you stay or get returned to working with the rest of the prisoners. Of course, you immediate bosses will be trustees. They can be your best friends or worst enemies depending on whether they see you as a threat to their own positions. But don’t worry about that for they know that no one gets to be a trustee in under a year or two.”

We soon came to a building that was new to me. Inside, the guard led me to a room where another prisoner was kneeling before a woman who was not collared. She wore a khaki uniform with a broad belt from which hung a short whip and handcuffs, and it was obvious to me that she was my new boss.

“Come in, Jani, and kneel beside Chan who is also here to see if she has what it takes to be a hostess in our work camp. You will refer to me as mistress and obey without question all my orders. Any disobedience and any complaints from our customers will be severely punished and you will probably find yourselves back doing hard labor. I may as well tell you that your chances of becoming a hostess are slim but I hope you both make it.

“Our hostesses live a pretty nice life. You eat well, wear some nice and exciting clothes, meet some interesting men, get some sex and may even have an occasional beer. Of course some of the guards who are our customers may be a little hard on you, but we’ve lost only a few hostesses over the years. Jani, I know you have a record of using drugs. If we catch you at this, your sentence will probably be doubled automatically.

“Now your indoctrination and trial period will only be about ten days long for in two weeks we expect the president and some of his officials to come for a visit and an inspection of our facility. You may be involved in making their stay here pleasant.

“Right now I am having a hard time ignoring the fact that you both are filthy. One of my trustees who is also a hostess will show you your quarters and get you some clothes. Then you get your ankle devices and be returned to me.”

During this long presentation to Chan and I, our “mistress” had walked around us, occasionally tapping our back or shoulders with her whip to make us sit straight with our heads bowed. As soon as she left I looked at Chan who was probably of mixed extraction with rather dark skin. Like me, she had a good figure without much fat. I noted that my breasts were larger and this together with my long black hair gave me an edge in looks. But I hoped this was not going to be a contest.

Before we had a chance to get acquainted a woman wearing tight denim shorts and a bra came in and told us to follow her. As we went down a long hall, she explained that she was a senior hostess and had been in the camp for four years. In a few months she expected to be released. Both Chan and I had many questions which were answered as if she really was interested in us. The ankle devices, she said, were locked on most of the hostesses until they were not perceived as an escape risk. Apparently, if a hostess with one of the things tried to go past a line about 20 yards outside the building, an alarm would sound and the device itself would give off a continuous piercing wail. Punishment always followed and sometimes this included cutting of the prisoner’s Achilles tendons. She went on to explain some of the other rules and routines. Apparently we were responsible for keeping our quarters clean, washing our own clothes as well as some of the seniors’, helping in the kitchen and, of course, keeping the entertainment rooms clean, stocked and ready. We were expected to exercise regularly, for which an exercise room was provided, and practice good hygiene. Condoms were available in all the rooms and all pregnancies would be aborted.

It was becoming a little clearer to Chan and I what our lives would be like and I was not entirely sure whether I wouldn’t be better off working in the sugar cane fields. But on the other hand, it seemed like a chance to tell the president or someone my story.

Our quarters turned out to be in a locked wing of the building. Each room had two cots, a chair, some open cabinets to hold clothing and toilet articles, a wall mirror and a few other things. I noticed that the doors to the rooms could be locked but all were open. Our guide explained that only on rare occasions would we be locked in. Stealing from other hostesses was rare and the group had methods of punishing offenders. There was a central bathroom and soon Chan and I were enjoying a very nice warm shower, my first since coming to the camp. Until then, bathing had been a matter of splashing some cold water on and drying with a filthy towel.

After bathing we returned to the room I was to share with Chan. The trustee had procured some hair brushes, toilet articles, lipstick, etc. as well as several articles of clothing for us. There were several pairs of shorts, tee shirts, bras, loose shirts, sandals and smocks, but also some high heeled shoes, tight short dresses with mandarin collars, a Lycra jump suit and a leather vest with matching trousers. When I held the last article up I found that it was designed to hug my hips but had nothing to cover by buttocks except for two thin straps that ran from the upper edge of the pant legs to the leather belt. Even my pussy would be exposed if I spread my legs, and I was getting the idea I would have to do just that.

Our guard watched as we brushed our hair and had us put on shorts like hers (“working shorts, she called them) as well as loose shirts that we tied below our breasts without buttoning. I felt almost human as she led us back to where our mistress presently joined us, making us kneel again in subservience.

“Well, you two look a little more attractive,” she observed and then asked the trustee to start Chan’s training while she attended to me.

“Jani, you are very attractive. I love your long hair and obviously you have nice, generous but well mounted breasts. Now I am going to find out whether you have a few other qualities that are necessary in a hostess here. Stand up, takeoff all your clothes, fold them neatly and put them over on that table.”

“Yes, mistress,” I replied. I was a little embarrassed by her close scrutiny of my body and wondered what was going to happen. She turned be so I was facing away from her, and in that position I was told to put my hands on my hips and keep them there. I heard her walk to a cabinet, return and then I felt her placing a thick, stiff leather collar around the metal one that already adorned my neck. The leather strip was about four inches wide and was formed in such a way as to raise my chin and markedly limit any turning of my neck. As she buckled the securing strap in place, I sensed that the back of the collar was attached to the center of a three foot long bar with leather cuffs dangling from each end.

“What are you doing…” I started to say.

“Quiet, Jani. Just put you hands through those cuffs while I buckle them. You are to cooperate with me so I can see what makes you tick.” With my wrists firmly fastened in place, she had me spread my bare feet while she positioned a spreader bar between them and fastened the attached cuffs to my ankles. I was now fully aware of just how helpless I was and with that feeling came an arousal. My inner nature was expressing itself.

My mistress stood in front of me and let her hands run softly over my arms and then down my sides to my hips which she gentled pulled forward until we were standing close. Then she was cradling my breasts, feeling their firmness and size, and making my nipples enlarge and harden.

“Yes, you are as responsive as I anticipated, Jani. And I bet you’re feeling it between your legs, aren’t you?”

“A little, mistress,” I said quietly, but I could not help moaning a bit as one of her hands felt for my opening. She then smelled her fingers and knew I was more than slightly excited.

“Did my trustee tell you that all of our hostesses have shaved pussies? Well they do and I know several of our guards that will pay to do you the honor this evening. Now let’s see how those breasts look with a little jewelry. Ever worn these before?” She didn’t wait for a reply as she fastened nipple clamps in place, a slender chain connecting them. I winced from the pinching but it was not as bad as I expected. I wanted to see what they looked like but the collar made this almost impossible…….and I wasn’t looking forward to the shaving.

“Do you like the jewelry, Jani?”

“Well, I….”

She interrupted my answer with, “The correct response is….Yes. Mistress, thank you. Say it.”

“Yes mistress, thank you.”

After making me kneel again, she went over to that cabinet that seemed to hold all sorts of things and returned with a large dildo. “Do you know what this is. From the look on your pretty face, I know that you do. Now I want to see if you know how to service a man with your mouth. Go ahead.”

I certainly had kissed a man’s penis before but was pretty inexperienced along these lines so I kept my mouth closed as she brought the thing close to my lips. A pull on my nipple chain and a swat across my face with the dildo changed my mind. Then over the next twenty minutes she gave me explicit instructions in licking, teasing, sucking, tonguing, and finally rhythmically taking it deeply within my mouth until it was almost gagging me. As I performed this act, I found myself imagining that it was in fact a penis and got progressively more excited which seemed to please my mistress.

“Good, you learn fast. Now that you have it well covered with your saliva, let’s see if it fits anywhere else. Bend forward and get you face on the floor. And keep it there.” She walked behind me and began to move the tip of the dildo over my labia. Then I felt the tip enter me slightly as I moaned with pleasure and my juices really started to flow. But suddenly it was withdrawn and I felt the head begin to push into my ass hole. I lunged away from her, falling onto my belly.

“Jani, that is going to cost you. You must accept the fact that all of you is available to me and our customers. Now get back into position.” This command was accompanied by a sharp pull on my hair which raised me back onto my knees and then a shove got my head and arms back down. With her hand still yanking on my hair, she rather brutally shoved the dildo into my anus until only the flange on the base kept it from going further.

As I gasped and tried to keep from crying out, she said, “Thank your mistress unless you want something larger in there.”

I hastened to say the necessary, “Thank you, mistress,” as the spasm in my anal area began to subside. The next thing I knew, she was winding a chain around my waist and then from front to back where she locked it. I now was wearing a chastity belt that securely kept my rectum plugged.

With me stumbling along behind her and with her hand pulling on my nipple chain, she led me down the hall and into one of the rooms used for ‘entertaining’. I was to subsequently learn that each of these was equipped differently, although each had a bed of some sort, a chair or two, a closet and a small bathroom with shower. The one we entered had several overhead pulleys with dangling cables that were operated by hand cranks on the wall. I didn’t like the looks of things and my fears were well founded when she hooked cables to the ring on the back of my heavy collar and to the center of my ankle spreader. Using the cranks I was soon suspended, face down and parallel to the floor.

“Please, mistress, I may choke and..” My works were cut off when she filled my mouth with a ball gag and buckled the strap behind my head.

“No, you won’t choke. Just enjoy yourself for a few hours,” and with that she left as I tried to call to her.

After a few moments of panic, I realized that my weight was pretty evenly distributed and although I feeling a pull on my arms and legs, it was tolerable. And there was nothing I could really do to help the situation. When another prisoner wearing denim shorts and a short shirt entered, I hoped it was to end this punishment. She did look at me for a few minutes with a smirk on her face and then set about cleaning up the room, changing the sheets on the bed and putting away some of the things that evidently had been used the previous night.

Finally, she came over to me, tugged a few times on the nipple chain and then removed the gag. “So you’re one of the trainees. Welcome to our little entertainment facility. I am supposed to feed you and answer any questions you might have, but I think first I’ll try you in a different position.”

“Yes, please lower be down,” I said.

“No, I can’t do that for awhile, but let’s try this.” She grabbed the lower spreader bar and flipped it over. My hips and trunk turned but the arm bar caught on the other cable so that my head and arms only half turned. Still, it at least momentarily helped. For a few minutes she left the room and then returned with some fruit, cheese, bread and water which I managed to eat, despite my awkward position. We then talked about her life as a hostess and I sensed that she thought she was better off than those who worked the fields and the mill, but that the life was far from easy. She also explained that

“Just try to please the mistress in every possible way, and you will survive. I have to leave you now but I’ll be back later to get you ready for tonight.”

Chapter Nine

It was much later when she returned, accompanied by the mistress, and together they lowered me on to the floor.

“Thank you, mistress. I will try to do my best to please you,” I blurted out. She seemed pleased with my words, smiled at me and as they detached the hoisting cables, she suggested that the other hostess remove the butt plug, get me cleaned up, dressed and made presentable for the evenings events. I would have liked to have the neck and ankle bars removed but thought that asking would not be well received. The plug came out with a plop and momentarily I suffered from some anal spasms that cramped me up.

“Jani, you will have to get accustomed to having your anus and rectum used. Now, I think we will just dress you in a latex half bra and a pelvic wrap. Maybe a hot pink would look nice.”

When they put the bra on me, it was like a second skin. My nipples were still exposed and had again become hard and swollen, with the nipple clamps and chain still attached. The wrap hung low on my hips with a side slit exposing a good portion of my thigh on that side. The hostess seemed to enjoy brushing out my hair and then applied some lipstick, a little eyelid coloring and even some red coloring to the nipple areas while the mistress watched.

“Yes, you are going to make some money for me. That’s for sure,” she observed. This sort of confirmed what I had learned earlier about the guards paying her for our services.

Then the two of them led me down to the main entertainment room. This was quite large with a bar on one side, some eating tables, a dance area and some easy chairs and low tables. Already there were several guards sitting, drinking what looked like beer. Near the entrance from the outside world, there was a life sized, leather statue of a woman. The helmeted head had no eye or mouth openings, a high collar covered the neck and from there down, formed leather emphasized the bust, waist and hips. A single sheath tapered down to a point where the toes would be and a similar sheath covered the statue’s arms. The entire figure was suspended a foot or so above the floor in a simple iron frame.

As I gazed in that direction wondering whether the leather could be used on a real person and what it would feel like, the mistress said, “That statue should be a warning to you.” Maybe being encased in leather like that would be hard to take after a short time, but the confinement, restraint and tightness might be a real turn on, I thought. Then I was led over to a slightly raised platform near the bar, and a rope coming down from an overhead beam was snapped onto my collar ring. There was no tension on this, but I couldn’t move very far in any direction.

“Be nice to the boys and maybe they will give you something to eat and drink for it’s the only dinner you are going to get today. I’ll be back in a while,” my mistress said.

It wasn’t long before two of the guards got up from the table where they had been eating and came over to me. “Looks like we have a pretty recruit here. Nicely put together and probably starving for one of us,” one of them said.

“Thank you sir. Yes, I am new and am hungry in more ways than one,” I replied, smiling at them. While one of them grabbed my arm spreader and turned me around, gazing at my breasts and behind, the other went back over to the table and returned with a ham bone on which there was still a little meat. He offered it to me but as I opened my mouth to bite off a morsel, he withdrew his hand. Then after teasing me some more, he let me gnaw on the bone and drink from the tankard he had in his other hand. The beer or whatever it was tasted rather bitter but did serve to help my thirst. Their hands then began to explore my body, feeling and pinching while they spun me around, laughing as I tried to maintain my balance. Then a hand went under by short skirt and felt for my crevice.

“Don’t play with it unless you can pay for it,” came the voice of the warden’s wife as she walked up with a rather dark complexioned guard. He was well built, tall and was smiling at me. “Wait until you see her bush,”my mistress said to her companion. “A few days ago you said you wanted a pelt. She’s got a trophy for you.” When she lifted my wrap, his smile got broader and he pulled out his wallet.

“Fine, she’s all yours,” she said. “Why don’t you tie her down to that table over near the wall while I get some things for you. Her name is Jani and if she starts talking or yelling too much, just gag her and use your belt on her.”

“Come on, wench,” he ordered as he unhooked the rope from my collar and gave a little tug on the nipple chain. Needless to say, I followed him as fast as I could.. When we reached the low table which had numerous small holes he had me sit on the edge and then lie back with my feet still on the floor, separated by the spreader bar. He then pulled a chair up between my knees and sat down. “Jani, I want you to try to relax and enjoy this. I am not going to hurt you and resistance on your part will just make things difficult. You know that all the hostesses are shaved down where it counts, and I have the honor of doing you.”

“Yes, sir. But please be careful,” I said softly.

The mistress handed him several pieces of rope which he then threaded through appropriate table holes and proceeded to bind my waist, thighs, neck and elbows to the surface. My ankle bar was pulled up under the table and tied in that position, making sure that my knees were widely separated with my pelvis sitting just on the edge of the wooden surface.

I lay there unable to move and felt very exposed, wondering whether there was anything I could say or do. I really didn’t want to have my pubis and perineum shaved but at the same time was getting a little excited down there. Looking up I saw that two other guards had come over to watch.

First came some soapy water and a good washing, followed by a lathering using some type of brush. With the first strokes of the razor, I tensed and strained against the bonds. A feeble, “Please…”, escaped from me but this only produced a little laughter. The process seemed to take forever, partly because of the thickness of my hair. A few times I felt a slight sting

“Sorry about that,” came the voice of my barber. “Just a little nick.” Finally I felt him washing off the remaining soap and feeling the skin for any half shaven hairs. After a few more swipes with the razor, he dried me off and sent the other guards away.

My mistress also felt my very bare area and offered congratulations on the job. “Okay, she’s all yours for a few hours. You can have her here or in one of the rooms. You paid for her.”

What followed was a period of gentle caressing and exploration during which we both got hotter and hotter. He was good and when he finally dropped his pants and penetrated me, I was more than ready. Somehow, my private parts seemed much more sensitive after the shave and he had to cover my mouth to keep my moans and exclamations down. After he shot his wad, he fell somewhat heavily on me and murmured, “Thank you.”

With the permission of the mistress who came up at that moment, he opened my collar and the wrist cuffs, followed by the ankle spreader. My arms and shoulders in particular were sore and stiff and it was a real pleasure to be able to move them again. Then from somewhere he handed me a sarong which I wrapped around me and for which I expressed my gratitude. He was treating me almost like a gentleman, something that hadn’t happened in quite a while.

He ordered some dinner and beer for us and then we danced. The music was strange but he and the rhythm were easily to follow. After an hour or so, he led me down a hallway to an empty, ‘hostess’ room. Although there were a few things like ropes, pulleys, whips and a large, vertical wooden “X” in the room, he headed for the bed. And for the next few hours, we made love, talked, cuddled and slept. I realized that I had been used and subjected to things I didn’t want, but I was content and felt wanted for a change.


Very early the next morning, I awoke feeling the guard moving near me and then felt his hand exploring my breasts.

“Hmm. I like that,” I said almost involuntarily.

“So do I,” was his reply. “You are certainly different than most of the prisoners.”

“Well, I think you are different than most of the guards. You don’t seem to belong here.”

“I guess I am sort of disgusted with this whole system.” He proceeded to tell me about many of the things that went on starting with the treatment of the prisoners, the bribery and favoritism among the staff, and the corruption of the officials, including the warden who was even more of a buddy to the president than I suspected. Apparently there was a special section of the camp where political prisoners were kept. Some of these women had committed no crimes. They had just expressed views or tried to change systems that were contrary to the president’s. Or they were married to men who were opposed to the present government.

“If you have money in this country, you can buy anything,” he said.

“Well, I don’t have any.”

“Neither do I,” came his reply. By that time his caresses had got me going and we again made love in a wonderful way after which he said he had to get ready to go on duty and so returned me to my own quarters. “I hope that I can see you again sometime. By the way, my name is Liam.”

“I hope so, too Liam, and will look forward to it, ” I replied. As he left I tried my door and, to my surprise, I found it locked.

A trustee came up and said, “I’ll let you in, Jani, but I’ve got to lock the door again. Your roommate is having some problems. I found her alternating between crying and screaming. For a while she kept this up while I tried to console her. Finally she allowed me to hold her and quieted down.

“I couldn’t stand it. I tried to tell them but they wouldn’t listen,” she blurted out. Gradually I got her to tell me what happened. To my amazement, the leather statue had in reality been Chan, bound from head to toe and completely unable to move. Either they had not known or chose to ignore the fact that she was very claustrophobic and had subsequently gone berserk.

I did my best to console her and finally she dropped into an exhausted sleep.. When morning finally came she was better but then became worried that she would be considered poor material for a hostess and therefore would be returned to the cane fields.

“Look,” I said, “you are attractive and have a great deal to offer. Just do your best to please the mistress and the guards. I think all they really want is a sex slave. Let me tell you what happened to me.”

When I finished she wanted to see my shaved pussy and managed a smile. “Guess I can put up with that. I just hope that I find a nice guard. And Jani, I should warn you that you will probably be the next leather statue. One of the hostesses said that every new candidate has to go through it.”

I tried to get some sleep but spent most of the night thinking about what the guard had said about the corruption in the country. It certainly fitted with what I had learned about the prison officials and the lawyers. My chances of getting freed from the prison term seemed rather dim. I also found my self thinking about the leather statue business. It really didn’t seem like such a big deal. In fact I wondered how it would feel to be held and immobilized so tightly. Within minutes I was aroused but was rescued by falling to sleep.

The next day, I was assigned to the kitchen and, along with two other hostesses, given one chore after another including cleaning up from the night before, washing all the dishes, pots and pans, peeling the onions, fixing the rice, mopping the floors, etc. But we were fed well and the day passed quickly. Then I was told to bathe, dress in a kimono and present my self to the mistress. She however spent little time with me. After saying that she had received a good report on my evenings activities, she turned me over to the trustee who had been in charge of Chan. I obediently followed him down to one of the entertainment rooms where he ordered me to undress and lie on my back on the rubber covered table.

“Jani, I hope you are made a little different than your roommate. She’s not going to last long here. No guts and a cry baby. You are probably the same.”

“Sir, she is attractive and will do well I think. It’s just that she has a fear of being closed in.”

“Silence. I didn’t ask for your opinion. Now bend your legs up so I can insert this catheter, or else I’ll get a few people to help me and can assure you that it won’t be pleasant.”

I cooperated and didn’t flinch as the tube went into me and was connected to a long receptacle which he positioned between my thighs. Then he poured some oil on my chest, belly and legs and proceeded to spread it out over every inch of my skin, taking his time and enjoying the fullness of my breasts.

My immobilization began with tight straps above and below my knees, at my ankles and then my insteps, after which he stood me up and secured my wrists to an overhead trapeze so that he could wrap a long leather corset around my body from just below my breasts down to my pubis. The lacing of this took several minutes for when I thought he was done, he started at the bottom and worked his way back up, pulling as tightly as possible. The waist belt that followed was several inches wide and was secured by not one but two straps and buckles. His face was now sweaty from the exertion.

“How’s that feel, wench? Tight enough?”

Although the corset was indeed very tight, I wasn’t about to give him pleasure by telling him anything and simply smiled..

“Oh, you think this is fun. Well, just wait a few minutes.”

Perhaps I had made a mistake. He released my wrists, positioned my arms behind me, palm to palm, and slipped on a single long sleeve that ran from my shoulders down to a tapered end beyond my fingers. The sleeve was laced tightly closed and several binding straps pulled as snug as possible. Straps from the top of the sleeve were wound over my shoulders, crossing above my breasts and buckling under my arms.

For a minute he left me trying to balance on my bound feet while he spread a thick, rather stiff leather garment on the table. When he picked me bodily up and laid me down, I noted that the garment was shaped to accept my arms behind me and then tapered progressively down to a point below my feet. He overlapped the two sides and proceeded to lace me up, right to my neck. The portions covering my breasts had openings that would have been fine for some women, but it was only by some pulling on my nipples and pushing from inside that he got me positioned to his satisfaction. I looked down to see my boobs pointing towards the sky.

That was the last thing I saw for my guard then forced a heavy leather mask down over my face. Inside was a large pear gag which he pushed into my mouth and large pads that covered my ears and eyes. The only openings were small apertures over my nostrils. Then I felt my head and face being squeezed tighter and tighter, apparently by straps that were being buckled. One of these ran below my chin and forced me to bite down harder around the gag. Now, for the first time, I got a little panicky and started to shake my head. This was stopped by the application of a high leather collar that he placed around my neck, pushing my chin upwards and keeping it from turning.

Faintly I heard his voice through the padding. “How do like that? Bet you’re not smiling now.”

In fact that was the last thing I heard for a long time. For a few minutes nothing happened. Then I could tell I was being half carried and half dragged out of the room, presumably into the reception hall where I had seen the leather sculpture the previous evening. Except now it was me. I tried to remember how it was positioned and then recalled the metal frame. Apparently two ropes or wires were run from eyes in the shoulders of the outer garment up to the top cross bar and were used to suspend me, for I felt my oiled body trying to slide down further into the tapered end. This seemed to tighten everything up or maybe he was pulling tighter on some additional straps. In any case I found it a little difficult to breathe and tried to yell or moan. Whether I could be heard was another question but the result was several slaps across my protruding breasts followed by the placement of nipple clamps. For a moment I thought he was piercing my buds, the clamps were so sharp.

And then nothing. No noise, no light, just the smell of leather and the struggle to swallow the saliva forming from the gag that seemed to swell within my mouth. I tried to move but even my fingers were squeezed together. When I felt myself getting anxious again, I decided that my only chance to remain calm was to relax. With this slowly came a sense of pleasure at the tightness and completeness of my bondage. I was actually getting aroused and drifted into a fantasy world.

With no way to figure the passage of time, the minutes or hours passed slowly or rapidly. I knew that guards or hostesses or others occasionally gave me a push or slapped my ass or pinched and pulled at the nipple clamps. Otherwise nothing much happened with one exception. Someone suddenly covered the nostrils holes in my helmet. Within seconds I was gulping, crying and struggling hopelessly. Then I felt faint, heard metallic noises and thought I was seeing red. In all likelihood, I then passed out for I next recalled simply hanging there again.

When I was finally released, it was by the mistress who smiled at me as she unbuckled and unlaced me. “Jani, you did well. How was it?”

“Honestly mistress, it had its ups and downs. For a while it was actually sort of fun but there was also a time when I thought I would die.”

“Yes, I had to stop that. One of the guests got a little out of hand, and don’t ask me who he was. Now go take a bath and get some sleep. You look exhausted.”


The next days passed rather rapidly. The mornings and afternoons were spent doing chores around the hostess compound and these hours proved interesting for they gave me a chance to explore the entertainment rooms. The were lots of chains, ropes, whips, paddles, hoists, cages, boxes, a big “X” on which a woman could be strapped, a wooden “horse” on which a dildo could be fitted (ouch!) and even a medieval rack on which I spent part of an evening having my arms and legs elongated. The evenings with the guards showed that they were a varied lot. Some had lots of imagination and others were dull, but certainly I never knew what to expect. Most of the men wanted primarily companionship but some wanted to either prove their masculinity or superiority by reducing the hostesses to playthings without regard to our feelings.

Yes, there were times when pain was inflicted and the whip marks might occasionally last for a few days. The sex also varied from being extremely pleasurable to times when it bordered on being disgusting..but we survived everything.

Chan and I were gradually accepted by the other hostesses and the time came when we both passed from being on probation or training status. Chan still lived in fear of being closed up in a box or helmet but did come to accept being blindfolded.

Then came a day when I was told in midday to report to the mistress. I entered her reception room, knelt at her feet as I had been taught to do and said, “Good afternoon, mistress. You called for me?”

“Yes, I wanted you to know that you have been selected along with several others to serve as special hostesses to the president and his entourage when they arrive in a few days. You have been picked because you have proved yourself very attractive in a sexual way and the men like to play with you, plus you can take whatever men do to you. Several of my other women are good at dancing, singing and waiting on tables. Together I think you will make the president’s stay here a pleasant one. So until this retinue arrives the guards will not be allowed to whip you hard, or threaten your health in any other way. Also, tomorrow morning you will report to the infirmary for a blood test.

“Now as for the rest of today, you have been requested by Liam, one of the guards. You are to return to your quarters, bathe, put on your favorite perfume and make up, and then return here. I have some things that will make his evening with you memorable. I sense that he needs some cheering up and some companionship. Now get going.”

“Thank you, mistress,” I said. “I know Liam and will do my best.”

After following her orders and getting dolled up, I returned to the mistress who took me to one of the hostess rooms and told me to remove all my clothes. Then she helped me get into a little harness affair that went over my shoulders and around my body at several levels such that my breasts were supported, my shoulders pulled back and my waist cinched tight. Next she locked a rather heavy set of transportation chains around my waist, locking my hands to my waist tightly in front of me with a chain that ran down to my ankles which were locked about 8 inches apart. The chains were cool and rather exciting. While she was doing this, I looked around the room and saw the usual bed, some pieces of rope and also a slender vertical cage, large enough for a person.

I was now rather helpless and wondered whether this was being done to me at the request of Liam. Without saying anything, the mistress next blindfolded me using leather pads on a wide strap that buckled behind my head. Then came a large inflatable gag and a high leather collar. The tightness of these made me moan and try to complain but she didn’t pay any attention as she pumped up the gag. I tried to raise my hands but obviously this was impossible. In fact I couldn’t even get them up to my breasts when I felt her gently rubbing some type of salve or ointment on my nipples. The her fingers were applying the same cool ointment over my labia and clitoris as well as my anus. By now I was getting warm and excited wondering what next.

Just when I thought this was really wonderful, she put something on each of my nipples that pulled them outwards. “These are little suction cups, my dear. They may hurt a little but they produce some very large, engorged playthings for your man. And this will help if he decides to use your back passage.”

I suddenly felt some type of anal dildo being thrust into me, dilating my passageway and causing some spasm. I tried to push it out using my rectum but found that she was holding the thing in place while she anchored it with a chain attached front and back to my waist chain.

“That will hold you for awhile,” she said as she attached a lead chain to my collar and pulled me across the room. Then I heard the cage being opened. I tried to step back but with my ankles shackled, a little shove was all it took to force me inside. The door banged shut and I felt the neck chain was attached to the cage somewhere above my head. Also, she somehow hooked my shoulder harness to the back of the cage so I couldn’t move forward. “Have fun, Jani,” she said and I heard her steps leave the room.

There wasn’t much exploration I could do. The diameter of the cage was such that I could only move about two inches in any direction, and with my collar being pulled up somewhat, I could not squat and simply had to stand there. I was drooling a little around the gag and was becoming increasingly more aware of burning and itching sensations around my nipples and at the entrance to my vagina. Now I knew why she had applied the ointment. I tried pulling on the chain running between my legs and although I did get more aroused I could not get to a climax and it only seemed to make the irritation worse.

For a few minutes I tried to slip out of the handcuffs or reach up to my nipples to get the suction cups off. I also tried straining forward to see if I could dislodge them with one of bars of the cage but this also was impossible because I was locked or attached to the back of the cage. I was now sweating a little. When would Liam come?

By the time he arrived, I was more than ready for him. My nipples were extremely sensitive from the cups, my cunt was itching and well lubricated, by anus felt like it was filled my a man and my restraints had me mentally asking for whatever he wanted to do to me.

“Jani, you look a little uncomfortable in there but awfully attractive,” I heard him say as he unlocked the cage. Then he removed the blindfold, high collar and mouth gag after which he let me drink a little of his beer.. “Lie down on the bed and I’ll get some of these other things off of you, but I don’t have a key to the handcuffs. They’ll have to stay on.”

“I don’t mind, Liam, and it is good to see you.” Soon all the chains were off, the plug was out of my rectum and my nipples were free of the cups. I looked down to see my red buds appearing erect and very swollen. He undressed and lay down beside me. Strangely, he himself did not seem to be aroused.

I felt for his penis and found him almost flaccid. “Is there something wrong with me?” I asked.

“No, Jani, just let me hold you a while.” He curled himself around me, my back against his body, and slowly seemed to relax. After 15 or 20 minutes, he started feeling my breasts, shoulders and neck. When I felt his erection growing against my buttocks, I rolled over and used my hands to gently stroke him. This together with a little kissing was all it took. He grabbed my hands forcing them over my head, rolled me onto my back and penetrated deeply inside of me as I rose to meet him. It didn’t take long before we both climaxed.

Laying together, our sweating bodies intertwined, I noted he was actually crying. Somewhat clumsily because of the handcuffs, I wiped away his tears and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He started answering by saying, “I feel so guilty and disgusted.” What followed was a horrible story. Apparently his unit of guards…I was not sure how many….had been ordered to a remote area of the camp. Sensing that Liam might cause trouble, the squad commander gave him the job of making sure no one came into the area. The rest of the squad went some distance away and surrounded a covered truck. Shortly afterwards, Liam had heard babies or children crying, then shrieks, and then nothing. Liam had run to the scene and found the men laughing around the bodies of three children.

The commander had then handed bonuses to all the squad. When Liam handed his back, the commander took him aside and said, “Take it, go back to camp and keep your mouth shut or you’ll be buried with them. You know that no kids are allowed in this camp. Those stupid mothers should know better.”

Aghast at what I had heard, I asked, “What happened to the bodies?”

“I suppose they were buried right out there. I didn’t stay to find out. I can’t believe they were slain but am sure the warden ordered it. You know, I became a guard because I believed in law and order, but the atrocities and abuse that go on here make me want to commit murder or suicide. I shouldn’t have told you about all this. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Somehow we will do something about this,” I said, not having any idea what in reality could be done. “You’re a good man, Liam, and it’s necessary for you to do whatever you can to make our prison life bearable.” It sounded weak, but I think it helped both of us.

We slept awhile, made love again, and slept some more. Towards dawn, after lying there thinking, I said to him, “Liam, the time may come when you have an opportunity to tell some of the good people of this country what goes on. I hope you will.” When he left, he said he would try to see me again.


The day of the President’s arrival came very quickly. Everyone in the camp had been working hard to make the place presentable although no one seemed to know what the warden expected to get from it. He even seemed to relax a little when it came to punishments. Maybe he didn’t want too many of the women running around with obvious lash marks.

Our group of hostesses had been provided with new clothes, some of which were very skimpy and revealing. We all had passed our blood tests and physical exams, and it was clear that we were to offer the visiting group anything they wanted. Most of us wondered whether we would get any enjoyment out of the next few days.

The president and his entourage arrived by helicopter in mid morning, and although they immediately started on a tour of the camp, we hostesses were told to expect them for lunch, to dress well and expect to serve them. In the meantime we were all to report to the kitchen and help prepare the food. The morning passed quickly and I decided to wear a form fitting, black Lycra body suit that had high cutouts for my thighs and ended at my crotch. Actually the crotch portion had a couple of hidden snaps that could be opened for quick access should the need arise. When I looked at myself in the mirror, the shiny material seemed to emphasize by breasts and small waist and I felt a little too provocative for the occasion, so I added a red leather short skirt and high heeled shoes. I was still wondering how I might use the president’s visit to present my case or in some way get out of the camp.

The lunch seemed to go well. The men were hot and thirsty so a fair amount of beer was consumed but other than for a few times when the hostesses were pulled into laps, no one got too frisky. I couldn’t help noting that one of the visitors seated near the president seemed to be looking me over very carefully. He was tall, good looking and not fat like the president and some of the others. He was dressed in a simple khaki uniform that had several insignias suggesting he was an officer of some type. I switched tables with one of the other hostesses so I could serve him dessert and fill up his beer glass.

As I did this he turned to me and said, “Thank you, young woman. What is your name?”

Somewhat flustered by his unexpected politeness, I answered, “Mai……er…..Jani, Sir.”

He laughed slightly and observed, “Hmm. Don’t know your name, or am I confusing you? Let me see you arm.” He moved my arm so he could see the imprinted ‘169772’. “Well at least I know your number. When lunch is over, I want to talk to you. Understand?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied, confused as to why he want this.

When the men had finished eating, the warden talked a little about the camp and answered questions. Then they started leaving to see more of the facilities. The officer came over to where we were waiting to clear the tables.

“Jani, or whatever you name is, I am Gen. Lee, leader of the defense brigade and foreign minister. Although I don’t have anything to do with the penal system of this country, the president requires me to come along with him on these outings to keep him amused. Now I want you to slowly turn around while I look at you. Nice, very nice. For an Asian woman you have full breasts and are a little taller than most.”

“Sir, it is because I am half American.” I was tempted to say more but found myself embarrassed by his close examination.

“Take off you skirt for a minute and turn around again. Good, thank you,” he said and smiled. As he told me to put the skirt back on. “Jani, I assume you have been restrained and chained at various times since your arrest and confinement. Is that true?”

“Yes Sir”.

“Do you panic under these circumstances?”

“No Sir”.

“Do you feel helpless when this happens?”

“Yes Sir,” I said as I blushed a little, grew warm and nervous, and became somewhat aroused. Why was he asking me these questions? It was almost as though he could look into my fantasies.

“Good,” Gen. Lee said. “Tonight as entertainment I am expected to give a little demonstration at the request of the president. I would like you to help me. I promise that you won’t get hurt and perhaps you may even enjoy it.”

“What are you going to do? Some of the other prisoners are better dancers and singers.”

He replied, “I think I would like the evening to be a surprise. Dress just as you are, and I am going to request that you serve the head table. See you this evening.”

After the group had left we cleaned the place up, did the dishes, pots and pans, and decorated the room for the evening, after which we started getting the food ready for the evening. This included making sure there was plenty of beer and wine. Obviously this was going to be more than the usual meal. While all this was going on, I was trying to imagine what Gen. Lee had in mind as “entertainment”. I was attracted to him and sensed that he was different from the rest. Still, his questions about restraint, chains and feeling helpless had me wondering.

Finally we were given a chance to bathe, put on some makeup and get dressed. The warden’s wife had all the chosen hostesses line up and inspected us. When she came to me she said, “Jani, you are wearing the same clothes you did this noon. Perhaps you should change into something white. Maybe a tight, latex gown.”

“Ma’am, Gen. Lee requested that I wear this for some reason. But I’ll change if you think I should.”

“No, what he wants is what he’ll get. And see that he is kept happy or I’ll figure out a little punishment for you,” she added.

When dinner time arrived, I was tense and a little flustered. The visitors were given a chance to clean up, and requested that some of the hostesses help with their baths. I was disappointed that Gen. Lee didn’t ask for me, but when he walked into the dining room he immediately smiled at me and approached.

“Jani, you look wonderful and I hope you had a good afternoon and are rested.”

“Yes, Sir.” I tried to think of a way to ask him what was going to happen, but he turned away and said something to the president.

Dinner was served followed by dessert and more drinks. Then there were speeches by the warden and the president concerning the work camp and its successes. I was getting bored with all the lies and pats on the back when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Turning I saw the warden’s wife who said, “Jani, come with me and keep quiet.”

What now, I thought as I followed her into an adjacent room where a guard awaited. There she ordered me to face the wall and put my hands behind my back. I felt handcuffs close around my wrists and then leg irons were fastened with a short piece of connecting chain between my ankles. A short leash was snapped on my collar and I was led back into the main room as I heard some clapping. The lights in the room had been dimmed and there was a spotlight in the small stage where I saw Gen. Lee standing and apparently waiting for me.

“Ah, here she is now, my model for this evening. Bring her here.”

With a tug, I was led up onto the stage where I saw that a vertically oriented, rectangular framework of heavy wood had been placed.

“I want to introduce Jani, one of our hostesses, who I have chosen because of her good looks and figure. Let’s give her a hand of appreciation.” Everyone seemed to clap but it was hard for me to see out into the audience because of the spotlights.

“Tonight am going to demonstrate a form of Karada. Do you all know what this is? Jani, can you tell them?” I shook my head.

He went on, “Basically, this is an art form that originated in Japan. I think you all will appreciate it. I will need a helper.” With this, he selected one of the visiting men and directed him to come up and stand behind me. “If she gives you any trouble, just yank on her leash or hair, but I think she will be cooperative.”

He started taking multiple pieces or rope out of a nearby box and then came over to where I was standing. Quietly he said to me as he removed the red skirt and shoes, “Mai Ling, just relax. I’m not going to hurt you and think you will actually enjoy this as I said this afternoon.”

The fact that he used my real name astounded me. I couldn’t remember telling him my full name. By then he had placed several pieces of rope over my shoulders and began to tie intricate knots, forming a lattice work of diamond shaped openings with the various strands as he slowly worked down my body. Two of these openings encompassed my breasts and his hands gently touched me as he did this. It was almost as though he were caressing my breasts and nipples which sprang erect. I looked into his face and saw a smile.

While he was doing the tying, he was speaking to the audience, explaining the history and use of the art form, but my mind and emotions were centered on his hands, his face and my confusion over his use of my name.

When he reached my crotch, he held up a piece of rope which had a large, peculiarly shaped knot in its center. The crowd laughed and clapped as he unsnapped the piece of my clothing running between my legs and replaced it with the rope. Suddenly I was aware of the knot pressing between my folds and then entering my well lubricated vagina. I reflexly moved backwards but felt the helpers hands grab my shoulders.

With the crotch rope tied very snugly to the strands that encircled my waist he went down to my thighs and legs which he bound tightly together in more a more classical fashion, the turns around my limbs being cinched down. The leg irons were removed because they were no longer necessary. Then my wrists and elbows were similarly bound, my palms facing each other behind my buttocks and my elbows just touching. Finally he braided a piece of rope into my long hair and used it to pull my head way back as he tied the rope off to the strands pinching my waist. I was now completely helpless and would have fallen except for the man behind me.

“Now you people are probably thinking that much of what I have done is purposeless, other than for the pretty patterns on her black clothing. But watch the strands over the next few minutes.” From the sides of the wooden framework, he detached an overhead spreader bar that dangled from a cable that ran up through a pulley. Short ropes from the ends of this bar were attached to the ropes running over my shoulders and he then asked his helper to “wind her up”. The helper started turning a crank, the overhead ropes became tense and then slowly I felt the meshwork or ropes around my body tightening, almost like a Chinese finger trap. I couldn’t look down but could imagine the diamond shaped openings being elongated as my feet were raised off the floor and I slowly began to sway, suspended in the air.

“Are you okay, Mai?” he asked quietly after dismissing his helper.

“Yes, I think so,” I replied and then moaned softly as I felt his hands caressing my body, turning me this way and that.

The crowd, sensing that the demonstration was nearing its end, applauded.

“Thank you,” he responded. “If any of you would like to come up and inspect our hostess, please do. It’s hot up here and I need a drink.” There was more clapping as he left the stage after whispering that he would be back to rescue me later.

Over the next hour I think that everyone in the room had a chance to look me over, check the tension of the ropes and feel most of my anatomy. I was sweating and got progressively more aroused as they tugged on the crotch piece to elicit gasps and quiet moans.

Finally the spotlights were turned off and Gen. Lee asked the men still on the stage to leave. He then lowered me down to where my feet were on the platform, released the rope in my hair and removed the ties around my thighs and ankles.

With a hand on my bound arms to steady me, he said, “Come along, Mai. I think you need a shower.” To the warden’s wife who had come up to us, he asked, “I want to use your best entertainment room for the night and don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Certainly, Sir. And I am sure Jani will cooperate. She is one of our best hostesses,” she replied.

Upon entering the room, he looked around very carefully, located a surveillance camera and placed a towel over it. He then searched and located a small “bug” used for listening and smashed this with his heel. When he was finally satisfied that we couldn’t be spied upon, he smiled at me and not too gently pushed me into the shower room, attached my leash to one faucet and turned the cold water on. I gasped as the stream hit me and couldn’t help saying, “You bastard”. In reality it felt good and I wasn’t surprised when he soon appeared, stark naked, and joined me in the stall.

“How come you took off your clothes and left mine on?” I asked. “And how about all these ropes?”

“Well, there is one in particular that I am going to remove.”

I felt the crotch rope being loosened and then he withdrew the large knot which appeared well lubricated. I turned to him as I felt his strong arms reach around me. His hands sought my buttocks, he slowly lifted me up so I could wind my legs around him and his very erect penis slipped into me as though it belonged there.

As I moved with him, I somewhat breathlessly said, “Sir, there are condoms in the bedside table.”

“Are you worried about me or you?”

“Well, primarily me. I’m clean and free of disease and I suspect you are also, but I have my reasons.”

He didn’t bother drying our bodies but simply carried me out, plunked me on the bed, still bound tightly, rolled a condom onto himself as I watched and worked himself back into me, pausing to tease me a little at my gates until I said ‘please’. His motions when he climaxed together with the wonderful feelings inside me led me quickly to a the point of no return. Then I simply said, “Thank you, Gen. Lee.”

“Please call me Wan. And I sort of feel I should apologize for taking you this way, bound up as you are.”

“Don’t apologize, Sir. You are kind, considerate and I wanted you very badly.”

He gradually removed all the ropes and I then moved on top of him to explore his body. “You don’t have much body hair,” I observed.

Then I felt his fingers touching my shaven pubis. “Neither do you,” he laughed. We curled up and I guess I fell asleep for when I woke up, he was sitting in a nearby chair sipping from a glass. I arose went over to him and straddled his legs, kissing him and feeling his organ come awake against me.

“Tastes like scotch,” I said. He offered me a sip which I gladly accepted.

“Mai Ling, I checked your record and read what had been recorded during your first few days here at the work camp. Is your story about false imprisonment true? Look at me as you answer and reply in English.”

“Yes, Sir. I don’t know what is in the record but it is a fact that I was switched for a prisoner named Jani. And how do you know English, Gen. Lee?”

“I asked you to call me Wan, Mai. At least here in this room. I speak English because I studied abroad and must use the language at the United Nations. Have you ever been there?

“Yes, Wan. I wrote one or two investigative reports for them. In fact, that is how I came to visit this country. Can you help me get out of my mess?”

“Well that remains to be seen. Tell me more about yourself and what goes on here.”

It was difficult for me to trust this attractive man who was seemed very close to the president, but I didn’t seem to have much to lose. Over the next several hours, I told him the whole story starting with my voluntary stay at the prison. He didn’t comment very much but then started questioning me about conditions here at the work camp and the things that had happened to me including the beatings and the forced labor at the furnaces.

He remained rather impassive until I told him about the slaughter of the children.

Somewhat roughly he asked, “Did you see this?”

“No Sir. I heard it from one of the guards.”

“Who? What’s his name?”

The tone of his voice frightened me and I decided not to tell him about Liam.

“Are you making this up?” he demanded. Then he looked carefully at my face and said, “Sorry, Mai. I know you are reluctant to involve anyone else when you still have doubts about me. Well, let me tell you a little about Wan Lee. And as I do so, you will see that I am placing a great deal of faith in you and putting both of our lives at risk.”

He proceeded to tell me that he was in fact well educated and initially felt that the changes that had taken place in his country at the hands of the president were to the good. But gradually he had become disillusioned by the dishonesty, the greed of the ruling group, the bribery and the injustice. Now he felt the dictatorship was ruining the country which was no longer respected by the outside world. He confided that there was now a growing number of citizens who felt as he did, and that he could probably count on his defense brigade if he tried to overthrow the president in a coup.

“The tension in the country is building but the timing is tricky. It would help if I could persuade the important leaders of the United Nations to support our group and for this reason I am going to your country in the next week or so. Maybe I can also solicit some funds from your government or people. I just wish I could present them with some evidence of the conditions here in this camp and in other parts of the country.”

“Why don’t you just take me along,” I said with a smile.

“I wish I could. But right now I don’t want to do anything that might make the president think I am not 100 percent behind him and any effort on my part to get your problem reviewed might endanger everything. Besides, the warden is convinced that your story is false, although he seems to consider the whole tale a good laugh for which you have been punished and are now behaving like a good prisoner.”

After remaining quiet for a few minutes, he led me back to the bed and proceeded to explore every inch of me as I got hotter and hotter. In return my hands sought his penis and testicles, gently fondling them and feeling him respond. At one point I accidentally squeezed a little too hard but he knew I was immediately sorry. What followed was a slow beautiful crescendo that carried me up and up.

When it was gloriously over, he said, “Mai, you are a little devil. Perhaps a witch. And how do you like this?” His fingers were suddenly pinching my left nipple. I involuntarily cried out and swung an open hand in his direction. To the surprise of both of us, my hand struck his face and my fingernails scratched him.

“Oh, Wan. I am so sorry.”

He laughed and said he thought he would live.

“But look at your face.”

He went into the bathroom and returned still laughing at me. “For two reasons, I am going see that you are given a chance to feel sorry for your aggressive behavior. First, I have to do something to save face…..what’s left of it…….and second, I don’t want my fellow visitors to think we have become real close.”

A little alarmed I asked, “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.” Without further words, he dressed and left.

I lay there for awhile, basking in the glow that follows good sex and then took a jot shower. When I walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, the warden’s wife and Liam, in his guards uniform, were waiting for me. “Jani, I am surprised at you,” she said. “Scratching the general’s face was not a smart move but he didn’t seem real upset. He just ordered a period of inactivity for you. Now if you know what’s good for you, don’t give us a hard time. Okay?”

“I’m sorry ma’am. It was more or less an accident. What are you going to do to me?” I had quickly come to the conclusion that I should cooperate if I was going to have any chance of seeing the general again.

“Drop that towel and put out your arms so we can get you in this strait jacket, Jani. That’s what he ordered for you so there won’t be any more scratching.”

Liam picked up the canvas jacket he had brought and slipped it up my arms. The canvas was thick and rough on my skin but not entirely unpleasant as the jacket was laced up my back. Then the straps were pulled tight and the ends of the sleeves were buckled snugly behind me. I noticed that they had been drawn thru side straps designed to keep the arms in place and a strap was also dangling from the lower edge of the jacket at my pubis.

To Liam she said, “He wanted a diaper on her but we don’t have one, so just wad up a towel and fasten that strap tightly.” When this had been done, they shoved me out of the room, down the hall and into an area where food and supplies were unloaded. Off to one side was a wire cage about 3x3x5 ft. in dimension. I was unceremoniously thrust into this and the door was locked shut after they had put a dish filled with water in with me.

Liam whispered to me, “Sorry about this, Jani, but I couldn’t disobey the mistress. At this point the general walked into the room.

“Oh, good. Did she give you any trouble?” he asked.

“No, not at all. Sir, she really is one of our best hostesses and I don’t know what got into her,” the warden’s wife said.

“Well, give me a few minutes alone with her and I’ll decide whether to use her tonight in the show.” After they had left he came over to the cage and said, “You look sort of attractive in there all bundled up. Are you okay?”

“Just fine, Wan, but I’d rather be making love to you. Somehow this jacket and restraint are giving me the hots.”

“I figured they might. Now get some rest and I’ll see you this evening.”

“Wan, before you go, I’d like you to know that I would do anything I could to help you overthrow this regime. Also, that guard that just left was the one that was nearby when those babies were slaughtered, but I don’t know whether he would risk his life to tell you the story.”

“Thanks, Mai. I have been giving a lot of thought to you and may ask you to do something. As for tonight, the president was much impressed with your body and wants me to do a few more things to it. They won’t all be pleasant but it means I can probably spend the night with you.”

“Sounds good to me. I can take a great deal after being put through the whippings and the time shoveling the bagasse into the furnaces. In your tour here you might want to take a look at that awful place.”

“Good suggestion. Hope you can get some sleep. See you later.”


I lay there twisting and straining against the canvas, enjoying the tight restraint and thinking how it would feel to be bound this way, front to front, with someone like Wan. Then I guess I fell asleep for when I awoke it was late in the afternoon. Liam came back to change the towel between my legs and he then fed me a good and satisfying meal. I was able to question him about whether he would be willing to tell others about the slaughter of the children.

He at first refused even to think about it, fearing that it would mean terrible punishment or even death, but finally said he would consider it if I could assure him that he would not be identified in any way. But he didn’t think he would ever be asked, particularly by me. I wasn’t sure myself if I would ever be in a position to bring this about.

Several hours later, Liam came back for me, took me out of the cage, fastened a leash to my collar and led me into the dining area where the assembled guards, visitors and officials including the warden and his wife were just finishing dinner.

The president made a short speech, thanking the warden, his wife and his staff for a very enjoyable and enlightening stay. The camp seemed to be running fine and continued to enjoy a reputation of no escapees and a level of punishment that led few women to be repeat offenders. He went on to say that he and the other visitors would be leaving the next day after documenting a few additional things. For the rest of the evening, however, the group were to settle back, have a few drinks, enjoy the hostesses and watch while his defense minister tried to redeem himself with the prisoner who “gave him a hard time last night”.

Everyone laughed as I was pushed up onto the stage, still bound in the strait jacket, and was greeted by the general. The first thing he did was to wedge a pear gag into my mouth, fastening the broad rubber strap very tightly around my head, causing me to moan and try to twist away.

Then he called for two guards to help him while he unbuckled and unlaced the jacket. When this was removed I stood there naked, struggling against the hands that held me, while the audience clapped and whistled their admiration of my sweating body. Wan forced me onto my knees and placed a long, two inch thick bamboo pole horizontally across behind my shoulders. Using a long piece of rope, he wound a figure-of-eight bending my shoulders back and thrusting my breasts out in front of me. My wrists were then pulled out along the backside of the pole and tied securely. Additional strands were used around the pole and my upper arms.

Using this same pole, I was pulled to my feet and stretched upwards as the ends of the pole were placed into notches cut into two upright timbers that ran from the floor to a simple crosspiece. My feet were still touching the ground but I couldn’t twist or move much because of the bamboo pole.

Wan picked up a short piece of rope which he doubled and proceeded to use it as a whip, lashing me about my buttocks and legs and causing me to yelp and jump, pulling up one leg and then the other in an attempt to avoid the beating. Well, he said it wouldn’t all be pleasant.

In order to secure my feet, he bound my ankles to another shorter pole, such that my feet were widely separated, my crotch was wide open and my toes were just touching the floor. Most of my weight was borne on the pole behind my shoulders.

When I finally settled down a little, he stood behind me and gently ran a hand up over one breast, his fingers seeking a nipple which was already at attention. He explained to the audience which had all their attention on me, my body glistening in the warm spotlights that were directed at us, that last evening he had demonstrated the art of Karada. Tonight he was going to repeat a little of this but in addition he was going to demonstrate the binding of breasts as an instrument of torture. He said he was confident that I would then be a most obedient sex slave for him to enjoy the rest of the night, although he might leave the poles tied in place to prevent a repeat of the scratching that he had endured the previous night. Again there were a few laughs and snickers. From me came only a few moans.

As he picked up some more pieces of rope, I tried shaking my head and pleading into the gag but was rewarded only by a smile. Soon, my body was trussed up in the diagonal pattern he had previously used. But happily he didn’t suspend me. Still the ropes were very tight, particularly those that ran near my breasts. Then using those strands as an anchor to prevent slippage away from my chest, he started winding a more slender piece of rope very tightly around the base of my breasts. I looked down to see the windings biting deeply into my flesh, my breasts drawn towards each other as they became engorged and dark with venous blood that could no longer flow back towards my heart.

I became more and more aware of throbbing and painful tension as he continued the wrapping. Finally he tied off the end of the cord and proceeded to squeeze my breasts, occasionally snapping my nipples as I moaned and tried to say “No”.

When he then started unwrapping my breasts I let out a sigh of relief, but was then surprised when the blood came rushing in and the pain built up momentarily. I looked into his smiling face and tried to see if he were enjoying this. Shifting my gaze back to my breasts, I could see that they were a scarlet color with bruise marks at their bases.

Much to my horror, Wan then approached me again with the thin cord. I managed to lash out with one tied foot, thrusting the pole to which it was tied at his shin. Fortunately or unfortunately, I missed but this resulted in the general ordering the two guards to raise the ankle spreader up behind me and tie it up to the arm pole.

“Jani, that was naughty of you and I bet you don’t like being suspended by your shoulders. Maybe this will help.” He fastened a rope to the strands going around my waist, ran it between my thighs and then hauled it up to the shoulder bar, the rope going deeply into my crease. Then he again wrapped my breasts, binding them even tighter than before and ignoring my loud moans.

When he then bowed to the audience, I thought my torment was over but to my dismay, he invited them up to examine me and feel my breasts and my sweaty body. After a few minutes of this, he returned to me and asked, “Are you ready and willing to obey and serve me in any way I wish?”

I nodded and tried to say, “Yes”.

“And you will be a model prisoner for the warden and his wife?”

Again I nodded.

“Perhaps you will even make a little tape for them explaining that because of your crimes you have deserved everything that has happened to you here at this camp, and that you feel that your punishment has been fair and appropriate.”

I didn’t hesitate, knowing that he must have a reason for this. I nodded and again said a muffled, “Yes”.

The general accepted another round of applause and signaled that the entertainment was at an end. Leaving the poles in place but with my feet on the floor, he removed all the other ropes, watching as I fought against the pain when the blood rushed into my tender and swollen breasts. I found that I was a little dizzy and had a hard time standing, so it was just as well that he had guards carry me into the entertainment room we had the previous night. I was placed on my back and after the guards left he again checked the room for listening devices and cameras. Finally he came over to me and removed the gag.

After undressing, he lay down beside me and gently felt my bruised breasts. “You did very well, Mai. I am sorry that I hurt you.”

“Wan, I think that you mean that but I also think you are a bit of a bastard and I would love to get even.”

He laughed and kissed my mouth letting his tongue caress my lips. Then he worked his way down the side of my neck. The bamboo rod behind my shoulders was a little uncomfortable but I found my self responding rapidly to his attention. When he moved on top of me I immediately felt his penis touching my widespread crotch and my juices began to flow making it very easy for him to enter me.

His motions became more rapid and deeper and I found myself moaning louder and louder, but suddenly he withdrew.

“No, Wan, please don’t stop.”

“Mai, the pole must be uncomfortable in that position. Let me help you sit up.” When he had done this, he had me turn and then pushed me face down on the mattress, raising my buttocks up so I was in the doggy position when he knelt between my thighs and thrust back into me. He felt wonderful as he filled me up, rocking back and forth, and it didn’t take long for me to reach an orgasm. At what point he came, I couldn’t tell, but I knew he did.

I collapsed forward onto my stomach and he gradually loosened the ropes, completely freeing me from the two poles. We then curled up together. In that position I fell asleep for a short time.

“Mai, we have to talk. As you know, I am leaving tomorrow and may never see you again. You are special and I hope that the future will bring you a release from this prison camp. It will if my efforts are any where near successful.

“Before I leave, I believe that you will be visited by one or our technicians who will ask if he can make a tape of your commentary on the camp. Please do this, responding to his questions with answers that put the place and the warden in the most favorable light. If the technician then asks you if you would like to make a second tape “for his personal use”, you will know that he is loyal to me and can be trusted. I hope you will say yes even though it may be putting your life and his in danger. It is an opportunity to record all the horrors you have described to me, including the death of the infants.

“If this works, the warden and the president will have the first tape, and the second tape I will use to convince the United Nations to support an overthrow of the present regiment here. But please don’t use my name. I have many enemies and the second tape could be used against me if it fell into the wrong hands.”

At this point I asked whether I should get Liam to testify, maybe as an anonymous voice. Wan said that he would discuss that with the technician.

Later after making love again, Wan rose and got dressed. “Thank you very much for everything, Mai. I hope we will meet again under far different circumstances.”

“I hope so, too. Good luck……and thank you.” I watched as he left, wondering whether I would ever see him again.


The next week or so passed slowly. The interview had gone well and two tapes had been made, one being the glorified version of the camp and the other a very incriminating true version. From Liam I learned that he had added his personal testimony when the technician promised to distort his voice so that it could not be recognized. I missed the excitement of Wan’s visit and wondered what was happening.

Then one morning, the warden’s wife called for me while I was working in the kitchen. I was told to take a bath, get cleaned up and present myself to her wearing a simple kimono. This was very unusual and the guard gave me no explanation.

When I knelt down in front of the warden’s wife in the customary way, she ordered me to strip and put on the standard orange, prison overalls. The guard then locked a full set of transportation chains on me, securing my hands behind my back.

“Ma’am, could you please….,” I got out before she commanded me to shut up and remain silent or expect to have my mouth taped. I was then led to a holding cell and given water and a light lunch which I ate in doggy fashion. I thought something was happening and I had better get some nourishment.

Sometime later, I heard a helicopter fly over the camp and then land. Then without any goodby, I was led out to the chopper. The ankle chains prevented me from getting up the high steps so I was unceremoniously hauled up by my armpits. After strapping me securely into a seat, the helicopter took off. I had not been treated roughly, yet I was in chains and obviously still very much a prisoner. Perhaps Wan was having me transferred. Perhaps my case had been reviewed. But speculation was doing nothing for my nerves.

We landed on the grounds of what appeared to be government buildings and I was led by a leash into one of these. Inside, after going down a hallway, we entered a courtroom. To one side there was a short passageway ending a closed door. The soldier leading me unlocked this and pushed me inside the small room. When he closed and locked the door behind me, the room was plunged into darkness but not before I had seen it was completely empty with no furniture, windows or anything else. So, I put my back against a wall and slid down until I was sitting.

Time passed very slowly. There was little or no ventilation, the place smelled of sweat and maybe urine and the temperature and humidity soon had me bathed in perspiration. Despite my anxiety and discomfort from the conditions and the chains, I may have dozed for I was startled when I heard the door being unlocked.

A different soldier yanked me to my feet, grabbed the leash on my collar and pulled me out into the corridor.

“Sir, I have to urinate badly,” I said, hoping for the best. He stopped, looked at me, clad in the sweaty orange prisoners coveralls and then led me to a small bathroom. Without saying a word, he grabbed each side of the buttoned garment down near my pubis and pulled the sides apart ripping the crotch wide open.

“Go ahead, lady. Sit and piss. And don’t take all day. They are waiting for you.” When I finished he made no move to wipe me and certainly I couldn’t do it myself.

Our next stop was across a small court yard where there was a small blacksmith shop, apparently set up to attend to the parade horses. The blacksmith stood there waiting for me and ordered me to kneel down with my neck on the anvil. Just what he used was not clear to for all I could see was the ground a foot from my face, but with the soldier holding my head, I heard a loud bang as the bolt holding my collar closed was knocked out and my collar fell apart. For the first time in months, by neck was bare! Maybe something nice was going to happen. On to the next stop.

When we entered the courtroom, it was very full of men and some women. Many were in uniform and all eyes centered on me. On a raised platform in the front, three men were sitting at a table and the center of these was the president who didn’t look at all as if he were about to release or pardon me. To one side was a wooden pillory, the cross pieces being about 5 feet above the floor. To this I was led, my chains were removed and my neck and wrists were quickly secured in between the cross pieces. My ankles were pulled apart and tied to the uprights.

“Gag her and strip her,” came from the president who had stood up and was glaring at me.

I got out a short, “No, please.” before my mouth was filled by a round leather pear attached to a broad strap that buckled behind my head. Helped by making a few cuts with his knife, the soldier then ripped off my garment, leaving me standing there completely nude. I heard a few snickers and a some muffled remarks.

To those sitting before him, the president then said, “As I have been telling you, there have been a few disloyal people in our country who have been stirring up unrest. Before you is one of them. Jani has been in one of our labor camps and appeared to be a model prisoner. But during a recent visit which I made to that camp, she seduced one of our technicians into making a secret tape. We had been watching this man closely because one of our spies had noticed he was associating with a rebellious group. After we returned here, I had his sound studio searched and found the tape. I am going to let you here a few parts of this.”

What followed was my voice describing various atrocities. Angry voices started yelling that I should be hanged or shot.

The president quieted the group and went on, “Using a few rather painful techniques, this technician was persuaded to talk to some extent but unfortunately died before we learned the names of those he was working with. However, we knew from the warden’s wife that it was Jani who made the tape. We hope to soon ferret out the others involved. Because Jani has been a prisoner, we don’t think she is any more that seductress and a traitor.

“Now while I discuss punishment with my fellow officers, I want you to enjoy watching Jani as she has her beautiful head shaved and her body whipped.”

It took but a few seconds for his words to sink in, but when they did I cringed and jerked in the stocks. My long hair…..my poor body. But did this mean that I might not be hanged or shot? My hair would grow out, but could I go through a severe whipping like the one at the camp?

People laughed as long portions of my tresses fell and then the scissors were placed with a straight razor. When the soldier stepped back, there were cheers from the audience. Then from somewhere behind me came the swish and then the fire from the first lash. It caught me by surprise but by the time the second and third blows came I was writhing and screaming into the gag. The whip seemed to search out new and more sensitive areas as my mind sought to become numb from the pain.

Then the beating stopped and I realized that I had sank in the pillory and was choking. A soldier was holding me up and pouring cold water down my back.

“Jani,” came the voice of the president. “It is the sentence of this court that the ancient device of a cangue be used on you and that should any person try to remove it, he or she will suffer the same punishment. Release her and bring her up on the stage so all can watch.”

Was it my befuddled brain that failed to understand his words, or did I just not know what a cangue was? The crosspieces of the pillory were separated and my ankles untied, after which I was half carried and half led up onto the stage.

Then I saw it and knew what the president planned. Waiting for me was a 4 inch thick, 30 inch in diameter circle of dark wood, probably ebony as I later learned. In the center was a 6 inch hole. The whole thing was in two pieces, an upper and a lower half, that had been drilled in accept two long tempered steel bolts. Two similar additional bolts were already running crosswise just above the semicircular cuts for the center hole. Since they were not holding anything, their purpose was unclear.

I was thrust forward on my knees and my neck placed in the cut in the lower section. Then I felt the upper section close behind my neck and the threaded bolts were inserted. The blacksmith appeared in my limited field of vision and it was he that tightened down nuts on the protruding bolt ends until the nuts were biting deeply into the hard wood. Using a sledge hammer, he then pounded on the bolt ends stripping and blunting the threads so that there was no way the nuts could be removed.

Up to that point, my hands had been held behind my back but now they were released. The soldier who had been steadying the cangue let go and the device which had been resting on its edge started to fall forward. I quickly reached out and grabbed the edges on each side as the utter cruelty of the thing sank it.

Yes, it would rest on its edge if I were careful but tended to roll to one side or the other. There was no way I could reach around the edge to get to my gagged mouth and face, and it was very heavy. The president meanwhile was reading from a thick piece of paper but I caught only a few words. “Warning: Let no one in any way try to remove……suffer the same punishment……can be tormented and used…….must remain in the park…..until nature takes its course.”

This paper was then tacked onto the cangue above my head and I was helped to my feet and I realized just how heavy the thing was. It was biting into the base of my neck and I was keeping it from tipping by holding the edges.

“Cover her with a rag and parade her over to her new home. I never want to see her again,” ordered the president. Those who had been seated watching what had transpired, filed out with me, touching and shoving.

It was a long walk across the adjacent street, through a manned gate and into a park that was lined by a tall, chain-link fence. The park was hilly, filled in some areas with dense trees and shrubs and more or less open in others. Several of the men, laughing and taking swigs from a bottle, went into the park with me, pushing and playing with me. Finally one of them, pushed me to my knees and removed the gag.

“Say thank you sir.”

“For what, you bastards.”

“For what you are about to receive,” one of them replied as he rolled me until I was facing upwards. Then the large cloth rag which had been wrapped around me was removed and the rape began. There was no way I could steady the cangue and defend my self, so I just lay there crying as they enjoyed my body. Then they left.

I think that was the most terrible moment in my life. I felt dirty, exhausted, sore all over, scared, humiliated, but most of all I could see no way out. How was I to eat or sleep with this thing around my neck. It was all I could do to keep the cangue from tipping and choking me. I groped around. found the cloth and wrapped it around my body, seeking some type of comfort.

After a while, I slowly got to my feet and moved deeper into the park where there were trees and bushes. Then I sat down and rested the edge of the wooden yoke on my thighs. A few minutes later I heard a rustling in the bushes and prepared myself for the worst.

“Rest easy woman. You have no reason to fear me,” a quiet voice said as a man appeared, his neck in a cangue similar to mine. “My name is Sulak. I am a survivor and you can be also. Come, let me help you up so we can go where it is safe.”

“Safe? I don’t know that word. At this point I’d rather be dead,” I replied.

“It’s your choice, and I can’t offer you much but what I have you are welcome to share.”

I shrugged and with difficulty stood up. Watching Sulak I saw that he was very muscular but quite thin. Still his strength allowed him to steady the yoke with one hand, and with the other he guided me through the bushes until we came to a sort of lean-to.

“Sit like you were before and take the strain off your neck. You must try to avoid neck sores,” he said.

When I finally got into a reasonable position, he offered me some water and then some fruit juice that he had squeezed himself from the wild fruit growing in the park. Not being able to reach my mouth with my hands, he lifted the liquid filled gourd to my mouth as I drank and found the fluid to be delicious.

“Who are you, and what do you mean by being a survivor?” I asked.

Over the next hour or so he told me a fair amount about himself. Basically he was a simple farmer who had withstood the tyranny and heavy taxation of the current regimen until the demands on his farm drove him to the point of rebellion. When he didn’t give enough of his crops to the government, soldiers had come and raped his wife and killed his daughter. The wife then committed suicide after which he began organizing an overthrow. Someone had leaked information about is activities and here he was.

But whereas, others had starved in their cangues or succumbed to infection, he had learned to manage somehow. Perhaps it was his knowledge of the wild berries and fruits, but later I was to learn that he still had friends who would sneak in some food.

When I started telling him about myself, he said, “We will talk more tomorrow. You look tired. I want you to use my bed tonight and we will made you your own tomorrow.”

Although I objected I could see that he really wanted to share. The bed was a simple raised cot of boughs and rags but was unique because there was a transverse slot at the head. He guided my cangue into the slot where the rim rested in a shallow depression in the ground, but my head and shoulders were supported by the bed on either side of the slot. Thus I didn’t have to hold the heavy wooden collar. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep.


During the night I awoke several times when I involuntarily moved and was stimulated by the wooden cangue. Sulak was a few yards away apparently sleeping in a sitting position, and this made me feel guilty for taking his bed. Finally as the sky became a little lighter, I arose and asked him to switch places.

“No, Mai. It is time to get up anyway. There is a little stream not far away where we can wash and then we can share some fruit.”

And so the day began. Most of the morning was filled with conversation and instruction. By noon we knew a great deal about each other and he had impressed on me the fact that I had to learn to persuade any “visitors” that they should give me food, articles of clothing and anything else that might me valuable in surviving. Obviously these visitors included men who wanted to have sex with me. I guessed that I could tell them that I was in no position to stop their advances but if they wanted a little more than a passive body, they had to supply me with things.

Sulak also kept asking me if there wasn’t someone I knew in the surrounding area that we let know what had happened and who might help. Certainly I wasn’t about to contact Joe Branigan, the lawyer, or Mr. Suharto, the prison warden, both of whom played major roles in getting me sent to the prison camp. It wasn’t until late in the morning that I remembered Monique, the matron in the prison. I certainly had mixed feelings about her but she had been kind at times. When I told Sulak about her, he said that he thought he could get word to her through some of his friends. In any case, he didn’t think it could hurt my situation.

In the afternoon, he led me a position closer to the gate and we sat there waiting. It wasn’t long before some men and women came into the area. Word had spread about the “new” woman in the cangue, and they were curious to see what I looked like. Some seemed sympathetic, others were bent on tormenting me with jabs, slaps, pushes, etc. Knowing that I couldn’t defend myself, one of them seemed to delight in holding my nose and forcing me to drink wine from a bottle he was carrying. But others did share some bread and fruit with me.

Then a man came up and pushed me down a trail to some bushes where he forced me onto my knees. I knew what was coming for I had already seen his erection.

“Wait, please, Sir,” I asked and proceeded to ask him if he wanted my help. He laughed as he pulled off my cloth but then paused and listened while I explained my needs. Surprisingly, he said that if I would wait there, he would return in a little while with some food if he could get it past the guards. It was even more of a surprise when that did happen. So I then did my best to give him a good time. I now knew what it meant to be a whore and it didn’t make me feel very good. But at least I had some things to take to Sulak.

So Sulak and I that evening had a reasonably good meal and he seemed please on what I brought “to the table”. We helped each other to eat and drink, laughing when our crude utensils didn’t quite hit the other’s mouth, but it was certainly far better than trying to eat our own food off the ground with just our mouths. Then he suggested we go to the stream to wash and there, feeling dirty all over, I decided to really bathe by getting wet all over. Doffing our pitiful clothing, we both entered the cool water which felt quite good to me, and these pleasant sensations got much better when he began to rub my back and body.

Then it was my turn to help him as he steadied his cangue. I was impressed by his muscles and leanness, but then I saw his growing erection. When he became aware of the fact I was blushing, he said, “Mai, after all you have been through, I really am surprised. Let’s dry off and go back to our shelter.”

There he gently helped me get settled on my back on the makeshift cot with my wooden cangue in the slot. When he started to back away, my hands, freed from having to hold the yoke, grasped his arms and I slowly pulled him on top of me. Then as soon as I supported his yoke, his hands quickly unfastened my cloth and began to caress me, seeking out all my sensitive areas. My arousal began to grow and grow as I realized that this was leading to the first truly consensual sex for me in a long time.

“Mai, you don’t have to do this for me,” he gasped as I felt him about to enter me.

“It’s for us,” I moaned and lifted my pelvis. What followed was heavenly. I couldn’t do much but he seemed to be all over me, inside and outside, finally withdrawing just as he exploded, timed with my own cries of pleasure.

Then I found myself laughing at our crude movements, necks hurting from the abrasions of our huge collars. Almost simultaneously, we said things like, “Thanks, wow, and did I hurt you?”

Just as we were settling down for the night, Sulak said, “By the way. I started a message going to your Monique today. Let’s hope it reaches her safely and doesn’t get her in trouble.”

The next two or three days passed rather quickly. Sulak and I fell into a pattern of helping each other with eating and drinking, we both worked hard at begging for food, and I found myself in more demand by the guards and other men to provide sexual pleasures for which I “earned” a few garments and food.

My disgust at servicing men was balanced by my delight in making love to Sulak. Our positions were dictated by the cangues we wore and the need to support them or suffer neck sores which I realized could lead to severe infections. I began to long for the glorious feeling of having his large penis filling me and feeling his hands all over my body. We were in fact surviving much to my amazement but we both knew that our future was dim unless something momentous happened.

Then one evening as Sulak and I were getting ready to eat, I heard a female voice calling “Mai Ling, where the hell are you?” Sulak whispered, “Stay here while I find out who that is.”

A few moments later he came back and said, “It was a woman in some type of uniform and she says that her name is Monique. If she is working for the government she may be bad news, but if she is a friend there may be reason to hope. What do you want to do?”

“Sulak, I’ve got to try to get us out of this life and these terrible collars.” He kissed my hand as I got to my feet, supporting the yoke, and went out through the bushes that concealed our “home”.

As soon as I saw her the memories of my incarceration in the prison came back to me with mixed feelings. I remembered what she had put me through but also her role in helping me.

Her first words were, “Well Mai Ling, 1-6-9-7-7-2, you certainly seem to be able to find trouble. Come here.”

When I reached her she reached out to help support my yoke and kissed me long and hard on my mouth. Before she released me she whispered, “If any of the guards come here I may treat you severely but I won’t mean it. In the meantime tell all that has happened but keep it short. I did hear about someone of your extraction being a thorn in the side of the president and for this reason being condemned to a cangue which usually means a slow death.”

“Monique, it is good to see you. And you may be my only hope.” I quickly gave her a synopsis of all that had happened since I last saw her, but initially left out the part about Gen. Lee and his efforts to overthrow the government. She seemed particularly interested in the tape I made exposing some of the government’s crimes and the treatment of prisoners, especially children.

To my amazement and surprise, she then said, “Did you happen to meet or hear of a Gen. Wan Lee?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” I replied.

“Mai, up my left sleeve is a very sharp knife. If our conversation this evening or your subsequent activities in any way endanger him, I will kill you without hesitation. And if I am not around, there are others who will do this for me. But if you remain as you presently are and keep your pretty mouth shut, I will see that you get out of this mess and back to America.”

“Monique, I made those tapes to help Gen. Lee who I think is a wonderful man in many ways. I know that at least one man has already died for him and think I would do likewise but hope I never get to that point.”

“Good,” she said. “I thought that might be the case. I am a leader of one group supporting those who seek to help the general who should be returning from his visit to the United Nations very soon. Hopefully he will have good news and additional support from people outside our country. If so, there may be a revolution, and we are hoping that it will not bring bloodshed. In the meantime, I have an old shirt, some rice and some other things for you.” These she produced from inside her shirt. “Take them to that man who came out to greet me and then come back.”

On returning I said, “Monique, you are wonderful to come here and I hope you won’t get in any trouble. What excuse did you give to get in here?”

“I told the guards that you were a former prisoner of mine and I wanted to delight in seeing you in that contraption which incidentally looks terrible.”

At that moment we both saw a guard approaching from a distance. The next thing I knew she had thrown me to the ground, pulled her belt out of her pants and proceeded to start belting me across my exposed buttocks. I yelped both at the stinging pains and also at the wrenching of the cangue on my neck.

“You good for nothing bitch, begging me for food. It’s too bad they didn’t simply hang you.” She continued to beat me as I crawled away from her and into the bushes. I heard her say something to the guard and they then walked away laughing.


It was very early in the morning about three days after Monique’s visit that I was awakened by what sounded like shots off in the distance. As I lay there trying to get comfortable, cursing for the millionth time, the cangue around my neck and the constant soreness, I thought the sounds were just my imagination. Then I heard more shots and a siren. I shoved Sulak with my foot to awaken him.

“Mai, I heard them, too. Sounds like something is happening but let’s not get our hope up yet. Wait until it is beginning to get light and we can then check for guards at the gate.”

Neither of us could get back to sleep and when we heard bells ringing, we both dressed in a hurry. At the gate, we saw no evidence of any guards but the gate was locked and chained. “I guess we just have to wait and hope,” I said and settled down a short distance away.

“Sulak, if we get out of this alive, I’ll never forget you. Without you I would have starved or killed myself. You’re quite a man.”

He replied, “No, it is I that owe you. You gave me a reason to live. I’ve never told you how low I really was. Besides, the nights we have had together have been precious. But we are not out of here yet and these yokes are no lighter than they were yesterday.”

About four hours later…..it seemed like an eternity…..three men came up to the gate, cut the chain and entered.

One said to the others, “Where do you think we’ll find them?”

“Well they can’t go far. They’re wearing those cangues. Mai,” he called softly.

Sulak and I quickly came out of the bushes.

“Are you looking for us,” Sulak asked.

“Well we are looking for you, Mai,” he said to me. “But we were told to pick up you both if possible. Come quickly.”

We followed the three men out and were led to an old truck. With a little difficulty they got us into the back, told us to stay real quiet and covered us with a couple of blankets. Although we were uncomfortable bouncing around in the hot, dusty, closed in area, we tried to keep the yokes from hurting our necks and rejoiced in our prospects of release.

Soon the truck stopped and one of the men hopped up into the back and said to Sulak, “Where can we take you? We don’t have much time because things are still happening fast and we can’t be sure that the overthrow will be successful.”

Sulak came him an address which apparently was not very far and we were back on the road again. When we again stopped, Sulak kissed me, groped for words and then simply said, “Thank you and I hope we meet again.” He was gone before I could reply.

At our next stop, I was unloaded and taken into the basement of an old building. They wasted no time in getting me into a storage room and the apparent leader of the three said, “Now we are going to leave you, probably until night. The door will be locked. We don’t expect any visitors but for you own sake, don’t make any noise. Here is a canteen of water. If all goes well, we will be back, probably with Monique.”

They left quickly, locking the heavy door, and leaving me wondering how I was supposed to drink out of the canteen. The minutes and hours passed very slowly. The place remained very quiet and I guess that was fine with me. For awhile I explored the small room in the darkness, but found only a few old boxes, lots of dirt and some tools.

Then I heard some noises from outside followed by a key turning in the lock. When the door opened, light from an overhead bulb penetrated the storeroom and there stood Monique, silhouetted and looking wonderful.

“Mai Ling, why I am spending time with such a pitiful creature is beyond me. Crawl out here where I can see you better.” When I reached her she gently laid a hand on the side of my face and kissed me. It seemed like more than a social kiss of greeting.

“Okay men, let’s see if we can get that awful thing off her neck.”

Although the cangue had taken only a few minutes to be applied, removing it proved to be very difficult with the few tools that they had. Attempts to remove the nuts on the bolts failed completely. They then tried sawing down through the thick, dense wood but had to stop when they came close to the bolts. Finally, they were able to make several cuts and then use a wedge and sledge hammer to split the yoke in several places. With pieces still dangling on the bolts, the portions forming the head hole swung free and I found I could withdraw my head. It felt like a ton had suddenly been lifted from my neck and I gasped my thanks and relief. Actually I felt like shouting and running around in circles. Maybe I could fly like a bird I felt so light.

“Now tell me, Monique, what’s happening. Has Gen. Lee been successful?”

“Yes, we think so, but there are some skirmishes going on together with looting. He has control of the radio station and is asking for calm. Some of the recent president’s soldiers are still fighting and are killing anyone suspected of being a supporter of the new regime. So you are still in danger. I am going to take a risk and move you in with me, but you will essentially be my prisoner for a week of so.”

“Sounds awfully good to me after all I have been through,” I exclaimed.

Monique took me out to her car after checking to see if anyone was looking. She indicated I was to lie down on the back floor and threw a blanket over me, warning me to remain silent until she got me to her home. Although I was not really comfortable, the heat of the blanket and the swaying of the car had me almost asleep when we finally stopped and she told me to get out and follow her.

We quickly entered her home which I noted was in a somewhat secluded area of the city. There only a few other houses nearby and these were partially screened by bushes and trees. As soon as we were inside I threw my arms about her.

“Monique, I am so grateful for what you have done. I thought I would never be free. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With that I gave her a big kiss not caring whether my blanket dropped to the floor. A little to my surprise I felt a little thrill go through me, especially when she returned the kiss and held me.

“Okay, Mai Ling, what do you want first? Some food or a bath. You look both hungry and very dirty. In fact you stink. And those sores on your neck could stand some care.”

We decided on the bath or rather a shower since her bathroom did not have a tub. Happily, the water was hot, my first real comfortable shower in weeks. After soaping myself thoroughly up, including by scalp from which a stubble of hair stuck up, I stood there enjoying the luxury with the water cascading down over my head. Suddenly I felt a draft and Monique entered the stall with me.

She said, “I thought I would help with your back and besides, taking a shower with you will save water. Turn around.”

Taking the soap and a cloth, she went to work on my back, being careful of my neck. Almost involuntarily, I leaned back against her and then felt her hands reach around to gently caress my breasts. It seemed very natural and as my body responded I realized how much I needed tenderness. Turning I looked down at her strong body and full breasts. Then we kissed, her mouth opening to mine. I guess we simultaneously broke off the embrace. She turned off the water and handed me a towel.

“There is a robe on the chair and some ointment for your neck,” she said. “Take your time and then come down to the kitchen.”

As I dried myself off, I thought back over the past few minutes, realizing that my response to her had been strong and enjoyable. Was there a little Lesbian streak in me somewhere? The wrap around robe was rather short, coming down to mid-thighs, and was made of thin silk which clung to me. I looked down to see my nipples poking out against the material. Loosening the belt a little made these a little less obvious, and I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen where Monique was sitting at the table, dressed in a large man’s shirt and very little else. A deep pan of what looked like soup with noodles and pieces of chicken was steaming on the stove.

“Well, Mai, you look much better, even with your short haircut. Hungry?”

“I’m famished and still can’t believe I’m here.”

She filled two bowls with soup, put out some bread and poured strong tea for both of us. As we ate she gave me a few more details about what had been happening and asked a few questions about horrors I had been through. But when I started at the beginning, she indicated that she did want to hear the whole story but would like to wait until I was rested.

“For now, you are here with me and reasonable safe as long as those still loyal to the recent president don’t find out. I still have my job as matron at the prison and will have to work tomorrow. Hopefully, things will stabilize over the next few days and we can then find a way to get you out of this country. Let’s get these dishes done. We both have had a long day and I’m ready for bed.”

She started making up the sofa with a folded sheet and light blanket, saying, “I’ll sleep here and you can have the queen size bed upstairs.”

“Oh no, Monique, I am used to sleeping anywhere, hard ground, cots and even floors. The bed is yours. I’ll be very comfortable on the sofa.”

“Well, it would make things a little simpler but keep in mind that I do have to go in to work at the prison early tomorrow morning. You can spend the day exploring the house and finding some clothes to wear. We are nearly the same size and there are some boxes around that contain clothes worn by a girl who used to live here. See you tomorrow.” She went upstairs before I could reply.

For awhile I lay on the sofa, still dressed in the large shirt, thinking of everything that had happened that day, and realized that I really hadn’t thanked Monique enough for all she and her friends had done. I felt I really had to tell her how I felt so I quietly climbed the stairs. Her bedroom door was open and she lay on her side with her eyes closed. As I approached her she apparently sensed my presence and opened one eye.

“Anything wrong?” she asked.

“No, I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for all you have done. Basically, you saved my life, Monique, and I love you for it.”

She smiled and moved back from the edge of the bed, indicating that I should sit down. In so doing, she pushed the covers down and I could see that she was wearing a thin chemise that barely covered her breasts.

“Mai, I thought you were worth the effort and knew how you had been wronged here in this country.” With that, she reached up, lightly grasping my shoulders and drew down until our lips met. I immediately felt the way I had when we were washing each other, and with the beginnings or arousal became a little confused as to what I should do.

So I began to push myself away, our bodies still touching. But she quickly and rather easily pulled me farther onto the bed, rolled me onto my back, hoisted herself on top of me and grabbed my wrists, holding them tightly above my head. When she bent forward, I raised my head and kissed her, almost automatically.

“If that was a thank you kiss, you’re welcome. Mai Ling, you are really something.” As she continued she shifted her hands so that she could hold both my wrists with one, and used the other to unbutton my shirt, exposing my breasts with their very erect and engorged nipples. “You want to be loved and obviously respond to prisons, captivity, loss of control, and particularly restraints. That’s really what got you in trouble. Right?”

“Sort of,” I replied as I felt her hand caress my left breast and became aware that neither her chemise or my shirt covered our bottoms and she was now sitting on my pelvis and upper thighs.

“Now Mai, if you don’t want some real trouble, don’t move and keep your hands right where they are near the rungs at the head of the bed. I’ll be right back.”

She left the room and when she returned a moment later she was carrying a cardboard box from which she took two leather wrist restraining cuffs. My pulse rate increased as she fastened these tightly on me, securing them with small locks and an intervening light chain which she passed around one of the rungs at the head of the bed.

“What are you going to do?” I managed to ask.

“I’m going to give us both some pleasure. Now keep quiet and don’t fight me.” Monique then fastened similar cuffs on my ankles, drawing them out to the sides of the bed with short ropes, leaving me spreadeagled and very vulnerable.

Then she joined me on the bed and, starting at my neck started kissing, nibbling and caressing downwards over my breasts, sides, belly inner thighs and finally my clitoris and folds. By this time I was moaning and becoming very wet. When one of her fingers very gently entered me, I heard myself giving forth a series of “Oh’s” and “Please’s”. Then she stopped and started to get up.

“No, Monique, don’t leave me now. Please, I want you to make me cum.”

“Quiet, Mai Ling, and close your eyes. I’ll tell you when to open them.”

She left the bed and I could hear her doing something a short distance away. Then she was again kneeling between my flexed knees. I then felt something pushing gently at my vaginal opening. I opened my eyes automatically and looked down to see a dildo strapped at the appropriate location on Monique. Then she slowly leaned forward entering me in a most delicious way, only to almost completely withdraw it. I raised my pelvis towards her and we were soon, coupling madly. I then realized that the dildo was double ended and she was getting as much pleasure as I.

Her thrusts became faster and deeper, augmented my the grasps of her hands on my breasts and the kisses on my face and neck. Then we both came simultaneously.

“Monique, please stay in me for a moment, please,” I gasped as our sweaty breasts intertwined.

A short time later after she had released my wrists and ankles, we fell asleep with my back against her front and her arms cradling my chest.


When I awoke it was daylight and Monique was not in bed. I lay there for a moment trying to figure out what had happened the previous evening and night. It had been wonderful. She had been so gentle and seemed to know just what I wanted and just where I was most sensitive. I was now more confused than ever. Did I like women more than men? Well, I was not going to solve that question easily.

I glanced over at the bedside table and could see a note addressed to me:

“Great night. I am off to work and should be home in the late afternoon. Make

yourself at home. Food in the refrig and in the cabinets. You will find some

clothes in various places……some from a previous occupant. Stay out of trouble.

Love, Monique.”

I was also surprised to see from the clock that a good portion of the morning had already passed. Guess I needed the sleep. After a quick but luxurious shower, I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself. Not very attractive but at least I had survived. For hair I just had a dark stubble but it was growing. The numbers tattooed on my arm were of course visible and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on me. Happily my breasts were still reasonable full and young looking. I put on the big shirt and then had breakfast in the kitchen. It was great to be able to eat eggs, toast and coffee in a relaxed way. Then I walked through the various rooms, opening the closets and generally getting familiar with Monique’s home. I was surprised that the house had a cellar which is where her washer and dryer were as well as an old metal cot. I thought she must have had a large dog at some time for there was a sturdy, stainless steel cage off to one side. There were also a few large wooden chests similar to ones I had spotted in the upstairs closets.

I opened one of these and found that it contained stuff she must have brought home from the prison. There was an orange prisoners dress similar to that which I wore when I was initially incarcerated. Also, there were various handcuffs, leg irons, and straps. I immediately thought I might present myself as a chained prisoner when Monique returned from work, but decided to go back upstairs and look for other clothes.

Noticing a radio in one corner of the living room, I turned this on and found a station that was broadcasting news of the country and particularly the capital. Apparently the overthrow of the previous president and his followers had been very successful although bands of his men were still fighting in some areas and were seeking out Gen. Lee’s supporters, frequently killing them. So people were being told to stay home or travel only in groups. Also, I learned that the UN had opened an office and good old USA had a representative in the capital. I wondered whether he in some way would help me get out of the country. And maybe Monique had some ideas.

Deciding to get dressed, I looked in her closet. Obviously the clothes that hung there were hers and she had implied that there were others. Indeed, in the hallway upstairs there were some khaki pants and shirts that looked my size as well as some bras and panties, even some work shoes. In a few minutes I looked almost civilized. Trying to be useful and not bored, I washed and dried the dishes and then tackled her laundry.

While this was running in the basement, I opened another of her chests and saw that it contained what appeared to be sports clothing. On top was a very attractive light blue, spandex sports top with crossing back straps, and the next article was a matching, form fitting pair of shorts with legs that only came to the upper thighs. The material was shiny and felt great when I touched it. Would they fit? With anticipation, I undressed completely and pulled on the top noting how it cupped my breasts and showed my erect nipples. The shorts were tight and closed with a short zipper in back. With a smile I also noted a zipper running through the crotch. Sure would make taking a piss and some other things easy. I ran back upstairs to look at myself in the mirror was pleased with my appearance.

Back in the basement, I went deeper into the chest and found some black rubber garments. Who had the fetish for these things, Monique or the “previous occupant”? No matter, I sure was getting excited just from touching them. Then I found some leather things including a beautiful pair of black trousers and a black jacket with a few appropriate studs and fringes. These two articles I quickly donned and was pleased with the snug fit of the pants. A pair of low leather boots with three inch heels finished my new ensemble.

Again in front of the mirror, I smiled at my get up. With the jacket open, the blue sports top was stunning. I turned one way and then another, looking at the effect, and wondering what Monique would think. I finished the laundry and then walked through the rooms again, feeling and listening to my clothes, even touching my nipples and clitoris in response to my arousal. Suddenly feeling rather hot, I decided to venture out the back door, but first I checked to see that the surrounding trees and bushes produced a pretty effective screen. It felt great to walk around and breathe the fresh air.

When I heard a car approaching, I ran back inside, hoping that I had not been seen, Then there was the sound of a key in the front door lock and Monique entered, carrying some groceries. Smiling she approached and then held me tightly.

“Well, look at you, you little vixen. I thought you would find a few things to wear. Guess you didn’t find the lipstick, eye shadow and other things that would make you a real slut.”

“Oh Monique, I was just trying them on. Then I was going to put the khaki’s back on. I hope you don’t mind,” I said.

“No, Mai Ling, you look great and very enticing just the way you are. Looks like you have had a good day and thanks for doing the laundry that I see piled there. Let me tell you what has been going on.” With that she released me but let her hand gently run over the slick material covering one breast.

We talked for quite awhile. Things at the prison were pretty stable. There was new warden and Mr. Suharto was now a prisoner himself. She had talked briefly with Gen. Lee who had asked about me, saying he would love to see me but things were very busy. He also had told Monique that some of his enemies were still looking for me, thinking that I was to blame for part of the previous president’s troubles.

Anyway, the conversation got around to my future. Monique thought that she could get me a wig somewhere and dressed in the khaki’s we might try to see the US envoy to find out whether I could get some type of passport and then a ride on one of the UN planes. She knew that Gen. Lee would help in this regard.

“When,” was my only question.

“Well, I’m only working a half day tomorrow. How about tomorrow afternoon?” was her reply. I quickly kissed her and thanked her.

“Now let’s make some dinner. I even got a bottle of wine to celebrate with. How does stew sound? There is only a limited amount of meat available but I think this is edible.”

I didn’t dare ask what kind it was, but started peeling some potatoes and cutting carrots. When everything was brewing in a pot, we settled down in the living room with our glasses filled with what turned out to be very good wine. She asked me many questions about my experiences and didn’t give me much of a chance to ask about her life’s story. By the time we started eating, I was a little high from the wine. She seemed completely sober. Maybe she was a better drinker or maybe she had not consumed as much as I.

I did manage to help with the dishes despite a little lack of coordination. I had long ago taken off the leather jacket but still wore the spandex bran and shorts as well as the leather pants.

“Mai Ling, you really look great in those clothes. I am surprised you didn’t try on the long spandex gloves.”

When I told her I didn’t see them, she told me to sit still for a moment. On her return, she held out a pair of beautiful blue gloves that I slipped on with her help. They had some little snaps at the wrist that really made them tight.

“Now turn around, close your eyes and put your hands behind you, ” she ordered. I suddenly felt a strap being fastened around my wrists, palm to palm.

“What are you doing, Monique?” I asked as she passed a second strap around my elbows, drawing them tightly together so that they touched, thrusting my breasts forward.

“Well, two things. First, you like the feel of leather, spandex and rubber, don’t you?” I nodded. “And, you disobeyed me my going outside, didn’t you? You were breathing hard when I came home and I noted that the back door was unlocked. Didn’t I tell you that it was dangerous for you to be outside?”

“Yes, but..”

“Quiet. Don’t say another word. I am going to see how you enjoy a little more leather.” I was pushed face down on the couch and immediately felt leather straps being fastened around my knees and lower legs, after she had roughly pulled off my boots. For a few minutes she left me, lying pretty helplessly. When she returned she was carrying several more leather things. One of these she spread on the floor and then rolled me off the couch so that I landed rather heavily on my back. My “ouch” was smothered my her hand temporarily pressed over my mouth and a warning look. Then she proceeded to very tightly lace up the long “leg-sleeve” of heavy leather that extended from my waist to beyond my toes. No longer could I bend my knees and there was only slight movement at my hips.

Bringing over a stool to me she, lifted me onto it so I was sitting with my legs stretched out. Then she placed my arms in a single, leather sleeve and proceed to lace this up, pulling on the laces with all her strength. On her face was not only a smile but also sweat from her efforts. As the straps from the top of the sleeve were fastened around my shoulders, hauling them still farther back, I moaned from the combination of the feeling of restraint, the arousal the helplessness was producing, and the discomfort of being bound so tightly.

“I should suspend you by the end of that sleeve and wallop your behind until it turns purple, and I still may, but I have some other ideas.” Down over my head she pulled a heavy leather helmet that included a leather pear which she forced into my protesting mouth. Pads covered my eyes and ears, and I found myself completely blind and speechless, wondering whether I could swallow the saliva that immediately filled my mouth. Then came a stiff collar that held my neck and head immobile.

“Having fun in there, Mai?” I tried to shake my head and say no, but neither was possible, so I simply tried to bang my tethered feet on the floor.

Some type of harness was being fastened around my torso, straps crossing over my chest and waist, with extensions over my shoulders. Then Monique was dragging me across the floor. Snaps clicked on my shoulder straps and I was then hoisted up to the point where my feet finally no longer touched the floor. Again I moaned a protest but I no longer knew where Monique was.

For a while I swung there, trying to buck or move and somehow free myself.

“Poor baby. I bet you are getting hot all over, aren’t you? But you still look too comfortable.”

Her hands steadied my shoulders and I then felt her tongue gently touch and play with one nipple until it begged for more attention. After a slight nip with her teeth, her lips caressed my other breast bud. Then her fingers grasped and pulled my right nipple out as I felt a sharp pain from the closing of some type of clamp. My moans did not stop her from doing the same to my other nipple, doubling my discomfort. But at the same time I was glowing with the ecstacy of the restricting leather, the helplessness and her dominance. Whether she used weights, I could not determine but the pull on my nipples increased and I moaned louder.

“Poor little Mai Ling, maybe you’ll think twice before going against my orders. I am going to leave you for a few hours. Don’t go away.”

I tried to say no and beg for more attention, but basically knew this was hopeless, so I just hung there, twisting, my breasts hurting, vagina begging and my mind racing from one thing to another.

After an unknown period of time, I felt myself being lowered until my feet touched the floor. I was placed on my back on a bed and the leather sheath enclosing my legs together with knee and leg straps were removed. What followed were several hours of love making. I couldn’t do much myself because of the arm restraint and the mask, but she sure did a lot. Finally, I was completely released after which I curled up in her arms and fell fast asleep.


The next morning, I more or less behaved myself, cleaning up Monique’s home and exploring some of her other chests. I even tried on some tight rubber garments but missed having Monique with me. So I was pleased when I heard her car stop outside the house and met her at the door.

“Well, you look pleased with yourself. Guess you stayed out of trouble,” she observed. “Let’s have lunch and then see how that head of yours looks in a wig.”

In fact when it looked great. The hair was jet black, similar to my own, but was not as long as mine used to be. I then dressed in the khakis and we were off to the building that served as the office of the US consulate. The envoy there had received a call from Gen. Lee and had already checked with some office in Washington about my passport. Apparently there was a record of me returning to the US but that checked with the story the general had related about me. So the envoy said he had prepared a temporary passport that would get me back into the country. My previous picture had been faxed from Washington and was in place on the document.

As to flight arrangements, he was not aware of Monique’s thought about a UN flight and so had taken the liberty of booking me on the first commercial flight out. I was surprised to hear that this would be a British Airways flight late the next morning. Things were sure happening fast. Somehow I had assumed that I would have more time with Monique but realized that my future was elsewhere. The question of paying for the flight ticket came up, but the envoy said the money was available from a special fund and he could probably get reimbursement later from the new government in view of my false imprisonment.

Passport in hand, I thanked the envoy effusively and we left. Monique showed me a little of the city but was uneasy because of the unrest that still existed. We picked up some wine and food for dinner and returned to the safety of her home for a night of love making. This time I played a much more active roll, much to our mutual satisfaction. Neither of us mentioned the fact that I would be leaving the next day.

We both slept late the next morning and then showered together to get rid of the sweat and smells of the previous nights activities. Driving to the airport we were rather quiet and I had mixed feelings about leaving. I sensed that she knew how I felt and shared the same thoughts. She said that maybe she would visit me in the States but this seemed a remote chance.

I tried to get her to simply leave me at the airport entrance but she insisted on making sure that I got to the right place and, after a warm embrace and passionate kiss, she watched as I went through customs. The officer there examined my temporary passport carefully but then accepted it, wishing me a good trip “home”. I waived a final goodbye to Monique and yelled my thanks.

In the waiting area, my tickets were checked and again I was asked to show the passport. The agent looked me over very thoroughly and then indicated that I was to sit down not too far away from him, after which he made a phone call. Although I wondered what this was about, nothing further happened for about ten minutes. Then I was approached my two airport security officers, a male and a female.

“Are you Mai Ling Foster?” she asked to which I nodded. “Do you have any additional baggage?” I shook my head, confused as to where this was heading. “We are sorry to bother you, but would you please come with us for a few minutes.

She seemed polite but firm and I followed the two of them down the corridor and into a side room where there was desk and two or three chairs. The female officer then said, “You are aware that we have just had a revolution of sorts and we are being very careful about who leaves this country. The picture on your passport appears to be you but the hair is different and I believe you are wearing a wig. Is this true?”

“Yes, it’s a long story,” I replied.

“Please just answer yes or no. Things look a little peculiar to us and I feel we must search you. My partner will wait outside, the door will be locked. Don’t try anything funny.”

Although I was beginning to get upset, I said, “I understand your concern but have nothing to hide. I can explain..”

“Quiet. Just take off all your clothes and the wig immediately, placing them on the desk in a pile.”

I waited until the man left the room and began undressing as she watched me carefully. For some reason I was a little embarrassed and red in the face when I finally stood naked in front of her. The officer slowly walked around me, scrutinizing every inch of my body.

“Stick out your arms in front of you and don’t move,” she ordered and then wrote down the 1-6-9-7-7-2 tattooed on my arm. “I see you’ve done some time.”

“I really can explain and…”

“Shut up. One more word from you and I’ll make sure you won’t make your flight. Now put your hands on the edge of the desk and stick your ass out…and don’t move.” She put on a latex glove, squeezed out a little lubricant and went behind me. There was nothing subtle about her finger as it penetrated my vagina and twirled around, nor the entrance into my ass hole, but I managed to keep still.

“Here, wipe yourself and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She gathered up my clothes and her notes and left the room, locking the door behind her.

The only window in the room was covered by a thick metal mesh screen. Through it I could see the BOAC airplane getting ready for departure. I didn’t have a watch but thought I still had time if only she would return quickly. Sitting down in one of the chairs, I tried to relax and get comfortable, but found this impossible. After about ten or fifteen minutes, I knocked on the door, quietly at first and then louder with no result. More time passed and I again tried knocking and calling with no immediate response.

When the female officer returned, this time with two male officers, the first thing I saw was an orange prisoners uniform carried by one of them. Ignoring the fact I was stark naked, I gasped out an “Oh, no” and tried to run by the trio and into the outside corridor. I was quickly grabbed and thrown to the floor.

“Okay, we’ll do it the hard way. Get the cuffs on her,” the female shouted as they held me down and twisted my arms behind my back. The steel bit into my wrists as I struggled, yelled and tried to bite or do anything. With my hands immobilized it wasn’t long before they had my legs in the coveralls which they then simply pulled up over my torso, buttoning up the front and leaving my the empty sleeves dangling. The rest of the transportation chains were applied with a tight chain belt and only about eight inches of chain between my ankle manacles.

As they pushed me stumbling out the door and into a busy corridor, we were met by Monica, Gen. Lee, two of his uniformed aides and the US envoy. I was never so happy to see anyone in my life. Gen. Lee immediately took over the situation, demanding that I be released at once. As the chains were unlocked, Monica said, “You can’t be left alone for two minutes before you get into trouble, can you? It’s just lucky that the airport security called the envoy asking what to do with your passport and clothes. Now hurry up and get dressed. They are holding the plane for you and no one is happy.”

When I rejoined the group a few minutes later, Gen. Lee came up to me and gave me a big hug. “You are just as attractive as ever, Mai Ling. I love to see you in chains. I’m glad you are leaving so I won’t be tempted.”

Monica also gave me a hug and a kiss, and whispered, “If you stayed here, I’d never give him a chance, and, yes, you would spend some time in chains. Now get the hell out of here.”

With mixed feelings, I boarded the plane and a few minutes later we were on our way. It would be a very long time before the past few months would become a dim memory.



3 thoughts on ““Up the River (Imprisoned) in Handcuffs””

  1. I wish I had more by the same author – do you know who it is? Maybe I can do a search. So many sexy episodes! I love the part where she is hooded, substituted for the real prisoner and is taken “up the river”!

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