Monday, 19 November 2012

A travelling nightmare part 1

I have had a wonderful couple of days with Henry Higgins.  This is my account of what happened:

Helen Atkins is traveling the World.  She is several months into her trip when she discovers a little known island, one that used to be part of the Commonwealth but is now independent.  Helen has no idea what this means, but loves the island and her explorations lead to an evening in a local bar.  She meets a young gentleman also on his travels from the UK and they share champagne.  It is not long before Helen is rather tipsy and she ends up performing what would later be described as 'lewd acts' in court.  She has been arrested, charged and sent to a House of Correction for a 28 day sentence.  The principal officer is warden of the House and Helen is shocked by the harsh conditions the inmates suffer, not to mention the lack of privacy whilst changing and bathing.  She encourages a couple of the other girls to join forces with her and lodge a complaint with the magistrates court.  Armed with all the evidence gathered, Helen is confident she can get this terrible man thrown out of her job.  She could not have been more wrong.  In the formal court environment the other girls balk at giving evidence and claim there is nothing wrong with procedure within the House and the warden treats them very well.  Helen is charged with wasting time, giving false evidence and attempting to discredit an officer of the law.  She has 3 months added to her sentence.  She is sent down to the cells to wait her transport back to the House of Correction.  

Helen's transport from court was to be done by the very man she had accused; the warden. She was instructed to remove her coat, followed by her shoes and socks. She thought this an odd request and questioned it. This was met with a stony glare which prompted Helen to comply with the command. She was placed in handcuffs and then driven back to the House of Correction. Her attempts at conversation, notably trying to smooth relations between herself and her tormentor, were met with silence resulting in a very uncomfortable atmosphere. What seemed like the never ending journey came to a halt outside a building she had come to both recognise and resent. Helen was pulled out of the car and made to walk barefoot into the building, making her feet dirty, damp and cold. Sensing a theme of discomfort and torture, Helen's stomach turned over in dread when she walked through the imposing front door.

Like any institution, an inmate must be processed. Helen answered some basic questions about herself and mugshots were taken, but if Helen thought she had been treated badly then things were about to get a lot worse...

The warden instructed her to strip in front of him, making no secret of his eyes wandering over the contours of her body. Now stood naked before him, Helen was afforded no privacy at all and the warden raised the humiliation stakes by performing a prolonged and full inspection of every inch of her body. Helen was understandably mortified by this procedure, but even more mortified when she met the warden's favourite strap. Nine strokes were applied to her bottom for each time she had disobeyed or questioned orders. This man was going to make her life hell; she had only been with him an hour and she had already been stripped, inspected and tasted the strap. Further insult was to come when she was asked her prison number. She did not know it. Unfortunately for Helen, the punishment for this was to have it written on her forehead, something she was desperate to avoid. In fact she was so desperate that she fought the man hard before finally weakening against his grip and allowing this to happen. Naturally her resistance meant further punishment and more licks of the strap on an already tender bottom. Her screams did not cause him to let up, rather it seemed to be spurring him on in his efforts. Could he be enjoying this?

The process procedure complete, Helen was escorted upstairs. There she was blindfolded and handcuffs placed on each wrist. She heard movement around her but could not work out what was going on. It was not until she was made to kneel down and remove the blindfold that she realised she was kneeling on a plastic sheet covered in dirt. The warden was not going to be satisfied with that however, and had her lie face down in the dirt with in a spread-eagle. Now Helen began to feel really degraded, only to be increased by the warden wiping the dirty soles of his boots on her skin, including her face, breasts and legs. This was horrific. Her pose had her exposed to him, she was dirty, she had her prison number on her forehead. She was not the woman who had arrived but a while earlier. Her moans did not impress the warden and Helen was about to learn a lesson, at the hands of a vindictive man holding a quirt. He rained stroke after stroke down on her back, bottom, thighs and as a final painful insult, between her legs. Failure to remain in position meant increased strokes. Helen quickly learned to remain still and suffer quietly. Just when she thought she could take no more she was ordered to stand and taken to the shower room. The warden cuffed her wrists, immobilising her within the shower and turned on the water. Naturally this was not warm water and could only be described as cool. This caused Helen to yelp and wriggle. The warden was not impressed by her complaints and turned the water to ice cold. Helen was now pleading with him to give her the other temperature and thanked him profusely when he did. Cleaned off but still naked Helen was taken to her cell and sent in. She curled up on the bed, finding what little comfort there was in the blanket provided.


Later that night the warden checked in on her again. Now she was going to suffer a new type of humiliation; take the cane or accept a worse fate, one that she had asked for herself. The warden had her bent over and caned her repeatedly until he gave her an option to have him do something else to her. At first she resisted and so the warden simply picked up the cane and began the cycle again. Naturally it was not long before Helen's buttocks were burning and she did not believe she could take  any more. She pleaded for the very thing she did not want, simply because she could not face being caned again. Now she really was under his control and the humiliation of being forced to beg made it all the worse...

Hope you enjoyed that folks, part 2 coming soon....

3 comments:

Henry Higgins said...

I think the Warden must have noticed how much you disliked dirt when he inspected the bathing room during your first visit to his domain. So when he knew you were coming back into his clutches, he made his preparations well...

You look very unhappy when you're dirty. I like that.

HH

Leia-Ann Woods said...

That is possible. I did spend rather a long time bathing and made frequent visits, particularly after work detail. He did prepare well...it just goes to show how single minded a warden (or screw) can be...

I am unhappy when I am dirty. Very unhappy indeed. My only consolation was the spread of dirt where the warden did not want it.

Helen

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