"On spot, pig. Hurry the fuck up, I have plans and no smelly cunt is going to make me late. Arms up and legs apart."
Emily scrambled to obey. The yard in which she found herself was paved with rough, grey tiles. A number had been replaced with thick metal grates, the solid bars streaked with rust. The naked girl made her way to the wall and stood directly beneath the metal ring set high on the wall. She shuffled awkwardly backward until she could feel the brick behind her. This was her cunt-spot.
Sergeant Mailer threaded her leash through the ring in the wall and secured it with a small padlock. Emily was forced to stand tall if she wished to prevent the leash from pulling tight upon her collar. She knew the sensation that it would bring and the fear of choking made her knees tremble. As it was, she could feel the smooth metal ring rise upon her throat, the small movement enough to send her heart pounding.
Sergeant Mailer removed the restraints from her wrist and ankles and placed them on a small weathered, wooden shelf, its surface dented and scratched from use. Emily kept her hands in front of her body, their awkward position before her breasts quickly becoming uncomfortable. She worried that her hands were not behind her back but she had not been told to move. Either way she invited censure.
"Turn around, hands behind your back," Sergeant Mailer snapped.
Emily obeyed, shoulders relaxing as she realised she would not be punished for her failure to adopt the correct position. Maybe she was finally learning after all. Her hands were deftly manipulated, the inside of her wrists pressed together before a hard metal cuff was closed upon her.
Emily gasped as the single cuff snicked shut, the hard metal band digging painfully into her delicate skin. Her arms were pressed painfully together, the thickness of the unyielding ring forcing her to keep her arms straight lest she exert too much pressure upon her dainty wrists.
"Turn around. Open."
Emily obeyed instantly, eyes widening in question. Her face was still sticky with the mix of gruel and dirt that had been her evening meal and her cheeks stretched and cracked as she opened her mouth wide. This was something unexpected and her pulse quickened as she contemplated what was to come next.
"Fucking degenerate," Sergeant Mailer spat when she noticed the naked girl's heaving chest. "You can't even open your mouth without expecting a cock to just pop in there. Get this through your fat head, bitch, you won't be seeing a cock for years. You hear me, years and at the rate you're going I might just retire before it happens."
Emily knew the sergeant had misread the signs exhibited by her body but she knew, with equal conviction, that attempting to set the record straight was a futile gesture that would simply bring more pain.
"Now keep that filthy hole open and don't think of all the cocks that have been rammed in there."
Emily kept her mouth wide but she could not obey the second half of the sergeant's command. The instant she had been forbade to think of the cocks she had pleasured with her mouth was the moment she could think of nothing else. She thought of the silky smooth head of Josh's cock, it's pretty pink colour and the cute little mouth in its tip, the tiny lips she loved to tease with her tongue.
This was wrong, she knew it was; to think of such things here, such beautiful memories, tainted by her new reputation. She longed to be with Josh again, but she didn't want to think about him here, not in this way. She wanted to keep him separate, something that Pentonbridge could not touch, something she could look forward to once she escaped this torturous place.
Emily forced the sensual thoughts away, focusing instead on the actions of the sergeant. She had taken a small leather harness from the shelf and approached the naked girl with ominous purpose. Sergeant Mailer stretched the harness, sorting out the numerous straps, and brought it to the waiting girl's face.
"Open properly," Mailer snarled, forcing the wide metal ring behind Emily's teeth and closing the harness behind her head. "Turn around."
Emily gagged but obeyed, her tongue feebly attempting to dislodge the smooth ring that was wedged inside her mouth. The straps were pulled tight, biting painfully into her cheeks, and buckled securely behind her head. A third strap stretched across the top of her head, an open triangle fitting snugly around her nose. It too was pulled tight and buckled securely.
"About face. Stand still and stop fucking around. Push out your tongue. Pull it back in before you are given permission and I'll clamp it out all night."
Emily shuddered, knowing it was not an idle threat. Such things were not something to be associated with Sergeant Mailer. The words she spoke were a promise of rigid intent. Her tongue snaked slowly out past the ring and she held it there with all the will she could muster.
Emily's eyes darted to the shelf in time to see Sergeant Mailer draw a brush from a jar of dark brown liquid. As quick as the older woman was, a number of drops fell to the ground below. The light grey tiles were stained with the trails of old. Emily's hands clenched, her tight muscles pinching against the severe restraint.
She knew what was going to happen and she steeled herself for the coming pain. Her tongue trembled and she almost lost the battle to keep it out. The sergeant pushed the brush into Emily's mouth and brushed it slowly along her tongue’s entire, quivering length. Only as the brush flicked past the tip of the straining girl's tongue was the order given to allow it to retract.
Emily did so gratefully, the first twinges of sensation shooting through her mouth. The taste of the brown liquid was vile, bitter and biting, but there was no pain. Not yet anyway, Emily thought ominously. Sergeant Mailer replaced the brush without a word and forced a black cylinder into Emily's mouth. A single twist locked it in place, blocking the young girl's open mouth.
Her shoulders slumped in relief when she discovered she could still breathe through the plug. The shallow cylinder had clicked into the ring that held her mouth open, but Emily could tell, from the air still circulating into her mouth, that it was not solid. The holes must be small, like the stop of a salt-shaker because she could hear a very faint, almost inaudible whistle if she did not breathe solely through her nose.
Emily kept her body as still as she could, but her tongue worked feverishly inside her mouth. With every second that passed the sensation grew more intense. She ran her tongue across her teeth, sliding it across the metal circle that wedged her mouth open. It felt like hundreds of tiny needles soaked in vinegar were pricking her tongue and nothing that she did made a difference.
"Fail to finish a meal again and that will be applied each night for a week. This institution provides a bitch with everything it needs to complete its duties. Do you think you know better? Being a bitch does not give you any special insight into what one requires. A bitch does what it is told, when it is told to do it. A bitch accepts what it is given and is thankful for it.
"That includes punishment, pig. A bitch is only ever punished because it deserves it. Seeking to avoid punishment exhibits a gross disrespect for not only those that deemed it necessary but for Pentonbridge itself. Everything we do here is to make you a better person and to hopefully rehabilitate you to the point that it is safe for you to be reintroduced into society. As you are discovering, if you fight this system it will take that much longer and you are only hurting yourself.
"I know that is difficult for a dumb cunt like you to comprehend but believe me, all any of us want is for you to be gone from here. I'm already sick to death of you. You make my skin crawl and you don't seem to care, just using every chance you get to wallow in your depravity. I hope that in the very near future we'll be seeing so very much less of each other."
Emily stood and weathered the storm of the sergeant's scorn. She had trouble focusing on the woman's words, the distraction of the uncomfortable burning sensation in her mouth was consuming her thoughts. The needling had faded quickly but the vile taste had lingered filling her mouth with a flavour that made her nauseous.
"Follow," Sergeant Mailer snapped, unclipping the leash from the naked girl’s collar.
Emily was grateful for the chance to move. Her muscles had begun to ache, the day's use finally making itself known. Since coming to Pentonbridge he body had been worked to near exhaustion and each day she learnt more about herself and the feats of which she was capable.
Today had been the worst: the constant motion, the heavy bricks, the incessant squatting. Her meagre muscles had been stretched to breaking point and even her bones felt sore. Standing still for even a short while had allowed her body to cool and the pain in her muscles had intensified. She would barely be able to move tomorrow, she was sure, and she had to finish moving the bricks to their new position.
Sergeant Mailer marched across the small yard, her boots clipping noisily upon the stone tiles. Her own boots had been removed and Emily padded silently behind her. Six of the large squares tiles had been replaced with metal grates, the bars thick and brown. It was to one of these that the naked girl was led.
Sergeant Mailer leaned down, threw a bolt and lifted back the grate, the weathered hinges squeaking in protest. Emily looked down into the opened hole. Her breathing became shallow and ragged as realisation dawned. The hole was only a few feet deep, the walls and floor a dirty brown metal, stained and pitted. She knew, even before the order was given, that she would be spending the night in this tiny space.
"In," snapped the sergeant, the urgency clear in her tone.
Sergeant Mailer had a life other than the prison and the last thing Emily wanted was to impact that it any way. It was a stark reminder that there was a world outside Pentonbrdige, a world in which she no longer belonged. Her life was one of obedience, humiliation and pain but the rest of the world had continued without her. People still went to work and saw movies, read books and ate at restaurants. People on the outside still did as they wished, eating what and when they wanted, talking to whom they wished, living a life of their choosing.
Emily contemplated the hole in which she had been ordered to crawl, her mind flooding with thoughts that only made it harder to deal with her current situation. She pushed the thoughts away, her fear of where she would soon find herself helping her to focus. The naked girl stepped awkwardly into the pit, doing her best to balance without the aid of her arms.
Her aching muscles protested as she stretched her left leg into the hole. Her right foot balanced on the very edge of the square opening and she lowered herself slowly until she felt her bare sole touch the bottom. The metal was hot to the touch, the result of a long day beneath the harsh sun. Emily almost pulled back but the spectre of the stern sergeant ensured she stayed committed to her task.
Seconds later the naked girl was crouched miserably in the square pit, the metal sides uncomfortably hot upon her exposed skin. Her arms were pressed into a corner, the strict metal cuff digging painfully into her wrists. Emily tried as best she could to keep her bottom from the hot floor but the space was just too small.
The young girl looked up pleadingly at the sergeant but quickly ducked her head as the grate came crashing down with a deafening clang. The bolt was slid shut, the harsh metallic screech like a banshee’s wail that set the frightened girl’s teeth on edge. Emily shifted her body until she could once again look up through the grate.
The sergeant was gone. She had left without a word, Emily's fate forgotten the moment her duty was discharged. It was a hard truth to accept, that you could truly mean nothing to another person, that you held no more importance than an object, and the hated tears welled silently in the forlorn girl's eyes.
The sky was darkening rapidly and Emily knew from past experience that the air would be growing cool. It was interminably hot inside the small pit, the thick metal walls radiating the heat they had absorbed throughout the day. She was already covered in filth, the sweat she could now feel running down her side would simply add to the layers of grime that covered her body.
Emily longed for a shower, even though it would lead her to 42. She shifted again, becoming increasingly frustrated with the inability to find a comfortable position. Her pussy felt as if it was on fire but there was little she could do. Her knees were pulled up towards her chest, legs apart, in the only semi-comfortable position she could find. Her plump labia were pressed firmly against the hot metal plate that was the floor of the pit and even above the strong odour of her sweat, she could smell her sex.
Josh had loved to tease her about the strength of her scent but she knew he had loved it anyway. He had said it was the true scent of a woman but still, it had embarrassed her. She blushed even now, though she knew how stupid that was. She tried not to think of Josh, she knew it would make her horny again and that was the last thing she wanted right now. The fact that she could even become aroused in such a situation was worrying.
Her jaw was beginning to ache, the corners of her mouth stretched painfully by the large ring-gag. The foul liquid that had been painted on her tongue still filled her mouth with a disgusting taste. No matter how much saliva she produced she could not wash away the taste, it clung to every surface of her mouth like a vile-tasting glue.
She had no idea what it was but Emily longed for the moment it would lose its potency. This had been her punishment for not finishing her meal in the time she was allotted. She had also received five strokes of course, that was the standard for any breach of discipline, but she was rapidly beginning to discover that any infraction could be embellished upon and a return to room 303 could simply be one consequence of any act of disobedience.
She found herself here, in this open pit in the yard, because she had peed without permission, but worse than that, she had peed all over herself. She had been trying to be strong and not go at all, but Emily knew now that she needed to listen to her body. If she had gone in a corner of the yard, she would have been punished but that would have been the end. Her own stupidity had led her here so it was nothing she did not deserve.
She didn't want to think that way but Emily could not deny the truth of the circumstances. She thought of the bruises and welts that patterned her body from her recent sessions with the Technician. A few of the other inmates of D-wing exhibited similar markings, but not many and not as extensive as her own. That, in itself, told her that obeying the rules meant that punishment could be avoided.
A bitch does what it is told and, if it did, life would be so much easier. She had sad it hundreds of times that day and those seven small words continued to repeat themselves in her mind, over and over. Even if she wanted to forget, she could not, but Emily knew now that following that one simple rule was what she had to do. She must do it, she had no choice, not in this, not in anything.
No matter how hard, how painful or how humiliating a task, she would complete it, quickly and with enthusiasm. She would never again display her emotions to these women. She would keep her hate and distaste to herself. Her humiliation would be her secret. She would do as she was told and they would quickly realise she was just like any other inmate.
Emily looked up at the night sky, the darkness peppered with the tiny brilliant pinpoints of thousands of stars. How was she supposed to sleep in this cramped space? She was boiling hot, though the temperature had seemed to lessen a little since she had crawled into the pit, terribly uncomfortable, unable to position her body to ease the discomfort. The gag stretched her mouth painfully wide and nothing she could do would shift it.
Emily lay her head against the metal wall of the pit and forced away her tears. By sheer force of will she refused to cry. She had no right to feel sorry for herself. She had to stop playing the victim. She didn't deserve to be in Pentonbridge but she was, self-pity had only made her lazy and petulant. She was locked in this claustrophobic hole, outside in a yard, because of her own actions. If she wanted to get back to her cell, it was all up to her.
* * * * *
Emily banged her head the bars against above her, startled from her sleep by a noise she could not identify. The wan, grey light of the false dawn filtered into her pit but she was instantly awake. The aches and pains of her body flooded her senses with devastating force. She forced her mouth closed, pressing hard against the irresistible metal ring wedged behind her teeth. She succeeded in accomplishing nothing more than causing herself yet more pain.
Emily shuffled her legs apart, forcing her body into the corner of the pit. She huffed noisily through her nose as the pain from the severe metal cuff spiked through her arms. She shifted again as a second spear of pain shot into her pussy. Her tag had caught and was now dug into her soft pussylip. Emily wiggled her bottom until the tag slid sideways and once again lay flat against the floor.
All of that just so she could look out the bars of the grate above. Something had woken her from a sleep she was sure would never come. She couldn't remember falling asleep but the heat from the metal walls had worked in her favour. It was cool now and her body rippled with gooseflesh.
The stars above were beginning to fade, the small sliver of moon low upon the horizon and barely visible to the young girl's restricted view. Emily tried to calm down, forcing her breathing to become more regular. She had continued moaning softly, the pain from her awakening being dealt with by instinct. She didn't know why, but dealing with pain in silence was always harder.
She listened intently, exhaling slowly through her nose. It was partially blocked and each breath made an annoying whistling sound but it was the only thing she could hear. Something had awoken her and there was no chance now of returning to sleep. She flexed her fingers constantly despite each new tension causing a fresh pain to lance into her wrists.
Feeling slowly returned to her numb hands, the sudden pain of millions of tiny needles letting her know she would soon be able to feel again. Emily tilted her head to one side and held her breath, but still nothing. The sky was lightening with each passing moment and she knew that it would not be long before someone would come to release her.
Then her day would begin. Yet another day of endless, useless toil, but a bitch did what it was told. She heard the words in her own voice, the monotonous mantra of the day before having left its mark upon her.
"Rise and shine, assface."
Emily grunted in surprise at the overly happy greeting. She hadn't heard the guard approach and her heart thumped chaotically in her chest from the sudden fright. Emily tilted her head back to look through the grate despite the added discomfort it caused. The guard that stood above was unknown to her. Yet another sadistic cow sent to make her life a misery, Emily thought.
Even from this angle Emily could tell she was petite and quite cute, something that was very much out of the ordinary at Pentonbridge. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun at the back of her head. The style suited her, highlighting her pretty, round face and large doe eyes. She was wearing long pants that clung to her slim legs like a second skin, but the regulation blouse was still in place.
Emily watched the stiff material pull tight across the guard's small bosom. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the light blue bra that held the small breasts in place as the woman bent down, released the bolt and opened the grate, allowing it to fall open with a thundering crash. What the fuck was she doing looking at this woman's breasts? Her eyes had been drawn to the soft curves as the material puckered between two buttons.
"Well come on, you lazy fuck. Oh, unless you'd like to spend the day down there? I can assure you it will be a lot less pleasant than the little nighttime holiday you've just had."
Emily screamed into her gag at her first attempt to move. Her aching muscles protested agonisingly but she had to continue. This guard was no different from the rest. She would expect nothing different. She had given an order, she expected it to be obeyed.
The naked girl shifted her weight forward and pushed as hard as she could with the screaming muscles in her legs. Her arms bumped against the wall of the pit, the sudden pain almost sending her back onto her buttocks, but she but down upon the gag and forced herself to stand.
Her knees straightened for the first time in hours, cracking noisily in the still air of the dawn. Emily crept obediently from the pit, each movement a fresh agony. Her legs were weak and she almost fell back into the hole but she managed to fall the other way, tumbling into a heap upon the cool stone of the yard.
"What a performance!" The guard said mockingly. "You've got 5 seconds to get in position or you'll be on a charge of laziness."
Emily tried to ignore her aching body and turned toward the prison to hurry to her spot. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the naked girl already standing at attention in the cuntspot. She looked to be about the same age, her blonde hair cut short in a bob that made her look a little older.
Emily had paused for a second but quickly regained her senses. She scurried toward the girl, taking in her slim features and lean, muscled body with the time she had. The ubiquitous collar circled her throat, the tag dangling from her left labia the only other item she wore. It was not until she got close and stood beside the unmoving inmate, that she noticed that she too wore the same tight metal cuff upon her wrists.
Emily had glimpsed the open pit to her left and realised that it must have been the sound of this opening that had woken her from her unexpected slumber. She hadn't spent the night alone in the yard, a discovery that shocked her. This girl must have already been safely locked in her hole and had remained completely silent throughout the night. She wore no gag, however, that special restraint had been reserved for Emily alone.
Emily stiffened as the petite guard approached, but quickly relaxed when she realised the gag was finally being removed. Her chest tightened in anticipation as the guard manipulated the straps. Her jaw ached more than any other part of her body and she was fearful of the extra pain the removal of the torturous device would bring.
She moaned loudly, hands twitching against her buttocks, when the gag was removed, her jaw forced open to allow the wide ring to slip past her teeth. Emily worked her jaw slowly, the dull ache throbbing through her head punctuated by the sharp sting of her stretched cheeks finally settling back into their normal shape. A wave of drool cascaded from her mouth, forced out by her tired tongue. It dripped down her chin and onto her breasts, slowly sliding down the gentle curve and on to her belly. Emily blushed at her lack of control and looked meekly at her feet, unwilling to meet the guard’s disapproving gaze.
Emily hesitated briefly, before quickly following the other woman's lead and turning to face the wall. The cuff was unlocked and slid from her wrist, its removal allowing the blood to flow back into her tingling hands. She groaned as the pain flashed along her arms. She heard the solid thunk of the metal ring hitting the wooden shelf and by the matching moan of pain from her companion knew that they were now both free of restraint.
"Righteo then toads, let's get you ready for the day. Centre and attention. Now then, arms up and to the side. Running, on the spot. Go."
Emily jumped to obey, forcing her creaking legs to move. She jogged on the spot as best she could, her movements growing smoother and more regular with each passing moment. Her arms were to her sides at shoulder-height, her fingertips only inches away from the other girl's.
"Knees higher bitches, I said run, not loll about like some pathetic retard. Hands on heads. Stop. Legs apart. Wider 376, look at this other bitch, she knows what it means to spread your legs. The whore couldn't wait to get them as wide as she could. First time in the yard means nothing. Lean first to your left, hold for a count of three, then forward and when I say forward I mean all the way you slack cunts, bodies horizontal, hold for three, then right for three. Begin."
Emily obeyed instantly, shrugging off the conflicting emotions the guard's speech had caused. She was glad that for once it had not been her doing the wrong thing but her motives had been misinterpreted, as usual. Even her enthusiasm to obey, it seemed, would only engender further abuse.
She leaned her body to the left as far as she could, feeling the muscles in her side and legs strain. She counted to three slowly, avoiding the temptation to rush the count. On three she rolled her body forward, doing her best to keep her legs straight. The muscles of her stomach began to quiver before she had finished her count.
She knew, from her brief glimpse of 376, that the other girl would be doing better. The lean girl's stomach had visibly flexed as she breathed. She had seemed to be all muscle, without an ounce of fat on her body and Emily wondered if this was how she would appear after months in Pentonbridge. She could already feel her body firming, each day bringing her closer to a level of fitness that would make her life just a little easier.
Emily continued the exercise, completing each rep silently and as accurately as she could. She knew it was to her benefit to do her best, not only limbering her muscles for the stresses of the day but demonstrating, to this guard at least, that she wasn't a troublemaker. She was a prisoner that could be trusted to obey. A bitch did what it was told.
The guard watched both girls intently, looking for any sign of slacking. These cunts were only hers for a short time but she made sure that nothing that came through her yard was allowed to get away with anything. This was no country-club facility and she ensured that no inmate would ever think otherwise.
Both girls performed well, their counts appropriate, their movements smooth. Nevertheless, it was a good idea to provide a little extra motivation, to impress upon each inmate that performing well was only really fulfilling the minimum of expectations.
Emily was the first to feel the bite of the thin whip, the single strand slicing across her exposed buttocks with expert placement. She screamed, the pain lancing through her body. She forced herself further to the right on her next repetition, convinced she had been disciplined for not completing the exercise correctly.
Moments later she heard 376 grunt in pain and knew that she too had felt the single-tail whip upon her body. Again and again, Emily rotated her body, her thighs burning more intensely with each completion. She lost track after ten, unable to focus on more than one count at a time.
Her entire body was covered with sweat before the guard called a halt. She was still filthy from the previous day but she still felt the tacky sweat clogging her pores, making her feel dirty. She would beg for the chance to shower, if she thought it would do any good. To be clean, just for a little while before she started the day's work, would be a godsend.
Emily didn't think she would get the chance, which meant what? That she didn't deserve it? That being cleaned would only be a waste of everyone's valuable time. Well not hers, she thought, that meant nothing, but the time of whomever would need to supervise her.
"Attention. Arms to the side. Left leg forward, bend at the knee. Now lunge, push those smelly cunts towards the ground. Hold for three, now the other leg. Continue."
Emily did her best, pushing her body down, holding it in position while her muscles screamed their protest before straightening once more, only to begin again with the other leg. The exercise would have been difficult for her at any time, but after having slept in a tiny hole in the ground, her body crammed into the cramped space, she was struggling from her very first attempt.
"Smooth movements, pig. Don't jerk around like your trying to impale that whore's cunt on a big fat cock. Don't think I don't know what you are. You think I let a bitch in my yard without knowing everything?"
Emily screamed as the guard emphasised the correction with the whip. The wicked tail slashed across her breasts, almost making her lose her balance. She ignored the pain, focusing every fibre of her being upon the exercise. The agony of the stroke was felt in each breast, but the tail had licked across her left nipple and it felt as if it had been sliced from her body.
Emily threw herself into the exercise, making sure each movement was smooth and beyond recrimination. She didn't even bother to count. She would continue until the guard decided otherwise, what did it matter if she performed ten, twenty or thirty repetitions?
"Are you ready for your day?"
"Yes, Guard, Ma'am," the two girls answered, their reply ragged and atonal.
"Guard Russo, you stupid fuckwits. Now, are you ready for a day of hard work?"
"Yes Guard Russo, Ma'am."
"Each day is a chance for you to show that you can contribute to society and not simply leech upon it. One of you will have that chance today. Don't be a dopey cunt all your life and use it wisely."
Emily knew that she was not the one with the chance to contribute, not today. She would return to the yard and finish moving the pile of bricks, something that was not considered work and would not count towards her sentence. She would work her ass off and it would be for nothing. The activity itself was a stupid waste of time. Perfectly suited to you then, Emily chastised herself.
She was instantly angry. She shouldn't think like that. It was counterproductive and wouldn't help her in any way. It was almost impossible to be positive but she didn't need to join the guards in their abuse. She would get through today, move every last one of the bricks and then she could return to the work of her wing, stay out of trouble and work at eating away the days of her sentence.
"376, dress and wait by the gate to be collected. Pig, on spot."
Both girls rushed to the wall of the prison. Emily was breathing heavily, the recent exercises having taken their toll. The sun was yet to rise above the mountains and she already felt tired. Her belly grumbled noisily, reminding her of the hunger that had been her constant companion for what felt like her entire life.
Emily quickly stood at attention by the wall. She could sense 376 scrambling into her clothes beside her. Her uniform seemed like such an alien thing to her now, but one that she longed to be reacquainted with. To have her body hidden was something she could only dream of, and what would happen when she did? Her panties had been found, but would they be returned to her? Not likely, Emily thought morosely.
"Boots on, pig."
Emily cringed as the heavy black boots were thrown at her. They struck her belly, hard. The air was forced from her and she coughed as she bent down to collect them, wasting no time in obeying the order. She needed not to think, only to do. It was the way she was going to survive this purgatory.
Her boots were on in a flash, socks still a little damp from the day before. Her belly tightened when she thought of the reasons for the dampness but there was nothing she could do. What's done is done, she just had to move on and learn from her stupid mistakes. There were bound to be more, but she just had to learn from them.
"Arms in front," Guard Russo barked, observing the naked girl closely. She knew how this pretty little bitch had come to be here, using its body to rise to a position of power. Its boyfriend had no doubt been the mastermind here. Its IQ barely registered but that meant nothing in her yard. She didn't care how dumb a bitch was, as long as it did as required. Sometimes it was even better to be stupid; the smart cunts were constantly questioning orders. Not out loud of course, they were smart enough to know better, but she could always see them processing each command. That would bring the whip each and every time.
Russo smiled as Emily obeyed without question. This bitch didn't know why it was being ordered to do so, it simply did as it was told. These were the kinds of inmates she preferred to have in her yard. Unlike some other guards, she didn't care how many came her way, she was paid to do a job.
Emily stood patiently as the restraints from the previous day were locked upon her. The casual disregard for her as a person was unsettling, but Emily couldn't help but like the petite guard. She didn't seem reticent to touch her, as if her very skin was poison, not like Sergeant Mailer, nor did she seem hell-bent on causing her as much pain and degradation as she could, like Jennings. Russo simply fixed the cuffs around ankles and wrists, manipulating the young girl's body as if she was an unfeeling mannequin. She treated her as if she was nothing, just an object to be dealt with as decided by the rules of Pentonbridge.
"On the ground."
The memory of the movement allowed by her restraints returned quickly and she was soon on her hands and knees, the rough stone hard beneath her bare skin. Emily lifted her head and looked forward, feeling the chains pull at neck and belly. She was vulnerable in this position, her sex exposed from behind. It wasn't something she should be concerned about, having no control over it, but she was still uncomfortable with her body on display, especially her pussy. It was as dirty as the rest of her, the soft pink lips covered by dirt, sweat and the muddy brown stains of the rusty metal floor of her pit.
The naked girl felt the sun on her skin, enjoying the warmth of the dawn filling her body with a soft glow. She would soon be cursing the stifling heat that pressed upon her in the dusty yard, making every shallow breath a chore, but for now she needed to be thankful. Emily smiled at the thought, her lips barely twitching with the small wistful movement. Every day brought her something to be thankful for, all she needed to do was to find it.
The metal bowl she had eaten from yesterday was placed beneath her face, a generous helping of the tasteless, grey gruel half-filling the shallow bowl. It was no more than any inmate of D-wing was portioned for each meal but Emily felt as if she had received a double helping.
She quickly bent her head to the bowl, biting large mouthfuls from the pile of slop, spurred on by her grumbling belly. The lumpy gruel was as bland as ever and Emily wondered if cardboard could ever be considered an 'acquired taste'. The bitter burning of the liquid that had been painted on her tongue before she was locked in the pit for the night had lingered until she had gratefully been drawn into the oblivion of sleep.
She had awoken that morning with the most subtle of aftertastes refreshing her memory with every swallow. The unappetising gruel was washing away even this faint remnant, something else to be thankful for. And her meal was free from dirt and flies. Truly she was blessed. The sarcastic thought brought the young girl to the brink of laughter but she forced it away.
Emily was focused on finishing her meal. She had no idea how long she was permitted to empty the bowl but she wasn't taking any chances. If only she could ask the guard how long she was allowed, but one didn't simply ask a guard anything. She would speak only when spoken to, even then no one really wanted to hear a bitch speak. Concise and respectful, these were her rules for speech now.
She swallowed each mouthful, barely chewing the lumpy mixture and was soon licking the bowl clean of the final traces of the grey paste. Hre knees ached from their contact with the rough stone tiles. Her breasts swayed as she ate, the sensual movement annoyingly distracting. She wished forlornly for her uniform but she knew she would not see it that day.
Emily ran her tongue around the rim of the bowl, the soft scraping of metal on stone echoing around the silent yard one final time. She raised her head and looked to the front. She wasn't sure if this was the correct position but the lack of correction the last time made her think it was a mandated posture, a position in which she would be safe.
"That's what I like to see. Yummy huh? Doesn't look it."
Her enthusiasm had been misinterpreted but Emily was used to that. What shocked her was that finally something she had done had been seen in a positive light. It seemed like a hundred years since she had felt anything like it and she was unsure how to react. Should she answer? It hadn't sounded like a proper question. Emily remained still and silent, deciding it was for the best.
Emily felt a quick fluttering in her chest as she rose from her hands and knees. The memory of the last time she had emptied her bladder came flooding back, her shame full and fresh. She glanced quickly around the yard but she couldn't see a bucket anywhere. The only container was the bowl from which she had just eaten.
The thought that others had used it for this purpose sent a wave of disgust flushing through her. Did the bowl even get washed? The thought made her want to gag but there was nothing to be done now, she had already taken too long to obey and she did need to go. Emily shuffled awkwardly forward, chains scraping across the hard stone. She straddled the bowl hesitantly, not wanting to face the degradation she knew was inevitable.
" What the fuck? No you stupid whore. What do you think you're doing? That's for what goes in, pig, not for what comes out. You really are a filthy little fucker aren’t you. The drain, pig. Get there now, piss and get back here. By first bell you need to be at work"
Emily's cheeks blazed with the humiliation of her mistake. She felt so stupid. How could she be so dumb? She saw the small drain at the cuntspot, directly beneath the restraint point. She had noticed it before. Every yard had one. She rose quickly and rushed to the small square drain, eager to obey, as if doing the right thing now could somehow wash away her stupidity.
Her face and chest were a deep red, radiating heat like a sunburn. She liked Guard Russo. She had treated her like a prisoner, something unworthy of respect or compassion, but she hadn't treated her like contemptible scum, which had been the universal attitude of the other guards. She had probably read her file, but she hadn't seen any of the disgusting behaviour that had made the other guards hate her so much and now she had ruined it all because she was a dumb whore who couldn't seem to get anything right.
Emily turned to face into the yard, placing the wall at her back, but she refused to look at Russo, not wanting to confront the newly formed contempt she knew she would see in the woman's eyes. She had made a mess of things again but now she had to focus. She needed to pee, quite badly, but with everything that was whirling chaotically about inside her brain she knew it would not just happen by itself.
The naked girl tried to adopt the proper position, remembering what she had read in her manual about going to the toilet on the bucket in her cell, but the restraints prevented such a posture, and the drain was so much further away: it was a small square grate only a few inches across and she knew that any spillage would be punished.
Emily shuffled her feet as wide as the restraints would allow and lowered her hips until her buttocks were almost touching the rough stone. She looked down to see her pussy directly above the small drain, her lips parted to reveal the deep pink folds of inner labia. Her pussy was dirty: discoloured by the dust of the yard and the stains from the rusted floor of the pit in which she had spent the night. Small pieces of grit clung to her vulva, embedded in the soft flesh during the night.
She would give anything for a shower, even to be leashed to the wall and hosed down would be something that would give her immense satisfaction. She wanted to be clean more than anything. She stank: of dust and sweat and of her own piss and arousal. She longed to feel the burn from the astringent soap and to smell its acidic stench.
Emily thought of the shower, of the deliciously warm water jetting from the nozzles set high in the wall, filling the shower room with a delicate mist that flowed over the naked bodies of her fellow inmates like a sensual cloud. Water, Emily chided, focus on the water. She was annoyed that her thoughts had turned against her yet again.
She finally managed to focus and felt her body cooperate finally. Emily wanted to close her eyes when she heard her urine splash noisily against the open grate, but she kept her head up and eyes open. She looked out across the yard, past the fence and on into the fields that surrounded the prison. She wanted to be out there, with the rest of D-wing, working hard.
Emily heard the crunch of heavy boots as Guard Russo advanced upon her. Her cheeks burned feverishly under the imagined scrutiny of the guard. Her flow was strong and she knew that she would soon be empty. It would come as a blessed relief, the degradation of being forced to go to the toilet like an animal over, she could put it behind her and get on with the day.
"My, my," Russo said admiringly.
She was only feet away and Emily knew what she was talking about. After what felt like an eternity she was finally starting to slow, her bladder almost empty. How had she even held that much inside her? She doubted the bowl would have even held it all. She shook the final few drops from her pussy, wiggling her hips in what she hoped would not be seen as a suggestive manner.
"Ok, pig, enough showing off. I hope you haven't saved any in there, hmm. Not planning a repeat of yesterday are we?"
"No, Guard Russo Ma'am," Emily said with a fervent sincerity.
She may never see this woman again, but there was something about Russo that made her want to impress the woman. Emily realised, with surprise, that she wanted Russo to like her, desperately. She wanted to be seen as someone different, to be someone different. She knew what she was feeling was wrong, so very wrong, but she couldn't help but want to please this woman.
"Just need to get you watered and you're ready for collection. Attention, two steps forward."
Emily obeyed, jumping to her feet, snapping her restraints tight. She grunted as the taut chains pulled at her collar, but she quickly stifled her outburst. She could hear the guard moving behind her, but she stood at attention, feeling a little strange with her hands at her belly. She had become so used to placing them behind her back, the act of submission quickly becoming second nature.
"About face, on your knees. Drink, you have until you are collected, which won't be long. Jennings looks like she's in a hurry."
Emily spun on her heel, catching a brief glimpse of her nemesis stalking towards them. She didn't look happy, her stride stiff and brisk, the thick black baton held rigidly in her right hand, ready for use.
She didn't have much time and she remembered how thirsty she had become yesterday. Without the regular breaks for water she had been reduced to licking her lips for whatever meagre moisture she could get. Emily fell to her knees, the apprehension causing a nervous tension in her belly. She could hear the swift crunch of boot on gravel, the sound sending a cold spike of fear up her spine.
A rope had been hung from the ring in the wall, the single strand terminating in a woven bag that contained the water bottle from which she was to drink. The long, plastic rectangle was tipped with a teat identical to those she had drunk from before. She knew what she had to do.
Her hands resting comfortably in her lap, Emily closed her mouth over the long rubber teat and began to suck, drawing the cool liquid from the bottle in a panicked rush. Guard Lee's words forced their way into her mind: she wasn't supposed to think of sucking a cock. But of course she did. Even with Jennings bearing down upon her, the thought of a stiff cock, the warm flesh, both hard and soft at the same time, flashed from memory.
The creaking swing of the gate brought a fresh surge of anxiety that made her pulse race maddeningly, but she continued to drink, working her mouth forcefully upon the stiff rubber teat, using the rhythmic motion she had devised so early in her incarceration.
"Fucking typical," sneered Jennings. "Whore's got her mouth full, dreaming of cock. Close as you’re going to get, pig, for a very, fucking long time."
"Hey Rose," Russo said pleasantly.
"Morning Alicia. So you've had the misfortune to meet this ugly turd. Cause any trouble?"
"Not really. She did try to piss in her feeding bowl but apart from that, nothing much."
"Sounds about right for this cunt, write it up. The slag pissed all over itself yesterday but I caught it before it had a chance to lick any of it up. I don't think Monetti's gonna have much luck with this one."
"You'd be surprised," Russo replied with conviction.
"I fucking would be," Jennings spat, her voice projected toward the kneeling girl. "Even the good doctor said it was the most psychotically deranged pervert she'd ever seen."
"Fucking test results were off the chart, Alicia. Just look at it. You know what Lee tells them all, but you can just tell the slut's got cock on the brain. Just look, Alicia, look."
Jennings was becoming louder and more manic as she tried to convince her fellow guard of her stance. Emily had continued to work the rubber teat, filling her mouth with squirt after squirt of the deliciously cool water. She had remained on her knees, dedicated to her task, during the guard's conversation. She still wasn't quite used to being discussed as if she couldn't comprehend what was being said but as she slowly accepted her place at Pentonbridge it was becoming easier deal with.
Each time she was the subject of such conversation, her wants, needs and motivations discussed without her input, Emily felt an emptiness inside her grow. Her chest constricted, making her fight for each breath as if the void inside made her body contract in upon itself. She hated the feeling, hated the way it made her think of herself as something less than human.
"You see," Jennings continued, "I mean, granted, most of the bitches look like they enjoy those things just a little too much, but pig looks like she's five cocks in on a ten-cock gangbang. Be honest, have you ever seen a bitch go at it like that."
"Well, no, I can't-"
"Exactly, you've got to watch the cunt every second, it's like a dog in heat. You know Mailer's applied to be removed from its detail. We'll see what the Old Lady thinks of that."
"Exactly, you've got to watch the cunt every second, it's like a dog in heat. You know Mailer's applied to be removed from its detail. We'll see what the Old Lady thinks of that."
Despite knowing she should slow down and appear less enthusiastic, Emily knew she couldn't afford to. The day had barely begun and it was already hot. She sweat copiously and the fluids needed to come from somewhere. Her face burned with the humiliation of being discussed in such a way but that was just another part of her life now.
It would take her a long time to empty the bottle, each suckling motion only providing her with a small quantity of water. The fact that Mailer had asked to be kept away from her upset Emily more than she would have expected. The woman's distaste had been genuine. Despite her lowly status and the constant reinforcement of her worthlessness, the news had come as a blow to the young girl's increasingly fragile ego.
They weren't just saying they were disgusted by her, they truly were. Emily began to question the sincerity of everything the guards had told her, worrying over things she had once dismissed as simply part of the paradigm of degradation and abuse that pervaded Pentonbridge.
"You watch, Alicia. Check its cunt, you'll find it leaking like bad plumbing. Pig, front and centre," Jennings barked, the steel that Emily was used to suddenly back in the guard's voice.
Emily sprang to her feet, letting the long rubber nipple fall from her mouth in her haste. She swallowed the final squirt and scurried to stand at attention before the two women. Guard Russo was watching curiously but it was Jennings upon whom Emily focused. The woman's stern face was transformed into a grotesque sneer as she contemplated the naked girl's humiliation.
"Go on then, pig, introduce Russo to your depravity. I know you can't have suddenly gone shy, not a whore like you, so it must be your profound retardation. You and I know that loose cunt reeks with the filth you're constantly dribbling but Russo here isn't convinced. So convince her. See, as soon as you can penetrate the stupid bitch's fat head, it responds the only way it knows how."
Emily had spread her legs and thrust her hips forward, pressing her pussy towards the guards. She had been ordered to do so but her entire body tingled with apprehension. She could so easily be charged with solicitation or sexual assault for such an act. She knew it, and from the wicked smirk on the guard's face, Jennings knew it too.
"What did I tell you," Jennings said triumphantly.
"Hmmm," Russo replied, staring intently at the juncture of the young girl’s thighs.
"Monetti discounts it, but the bitch has a huge clit. I mean a huge fucking gorilla clit. You can't tell me that doesn't have something to do with how this slut acts. Just look at her now."
The unmistakable sheen of moisture could be seen between Emily's plump, pink lips. A single tiny droplet, pearlescent in the warm light of early morning, clung to her vulva, clearly visible to both guards. The seconds ticked by, each one making it harder to hold her position. Emily’s thighs were trembling with the effort of ensuring her hips remained thrust forward, prominently displaying her pussy for two women who held her fate in their hands. She could do nothing but obey, that wasn't in question, what bothered Emily was what they would do with the information her lewd display had provided.
"And that is how you tell a real whore from those little bitches who think they're something. Those cunts get in here and their used up cunnies go all dry, not pig though. Close it up before you make a mess and stink up the whole yard."
Emily straightened hurriedly, but unable to resist a glance at the sight that had caused the revulsion she saw on the faces of the two guards. She expected it from Jennings, but to see the same expression on Russo's face sent a cold chill into her belly.
Emily grit her teeth, biting back her despair, when she saw the long string of clear liquid that hung from her pussy, stretched thin by the milky teardrop at its end. Her movement had caused the sticky string to swing in small concentric circles before being caught by her tag and flipped onto the soft skin of her thigh. The naked girl stood at attention, her mind filled with the vision of her arousal stuck to her thigh, tethered to her pussy by the discharge of her desire.
This wasn't fair, it wasn't her. They had done something to her. The doctor had done something to her. Even as she tried to deny the clear evidence of the slut she was, Emily knew it wasn't true. She remembered the way she had been before she had even met Doctor Monetti and had the body-wracking orgasm ripped from her. She had been wet long before that, it had been the reason for some of her earlier failures.
She couldn't explain it but she knew it wasn't what they said, it just wasn't. But as the days passed and the evidence mounted, it was becoming harder to be certain that her sessions with Monetti would bear no fruit. There wasn't anything for her to be cured of, there really wasn't.
"I'll see you later then. Barbara's organising a little trip to Marrisville: picnic in the park, stroll to the falls, dinner at C'est la Vie. It'd be so great if you and Sam could come."
"I'll ask Sam and let you know."
"It's this Saturday so let me or Barbara know soon. It's great to get together away from all this shit," Jennings said, her sweeping hand encompassing the prison but her eyes firmly fixed on Emily.
"I'm sure it'll be ok with Sam and it's been so long since I saw Sarah."
"You know Sarah thinks you're cute," said Jennings, laughing at the gentle flush of pink that suddenly coloured Russo's cheeks. Don't tell her I said that though, she'd sulk for a week. Well, better get this piece of shit to work. Move it, pig."
Emily stepped forward for the leash to be attached to her collar and marched obediently behind Jennings as she left the yard. She would never get used to how easily the guards, and especially Jennings, could switch their speech and emotions. She had tried not to listen, their casual conversation upsetting her as much as the worst abuse, but she found herself strangely desperate for news of the outside world, no matter how mundane.
It was a world of which she was no longer a part, a world that seemed like a fairytale. She needed to stop now, she had something important to focus on. She had a job to do, the most important of her life. The musical tinkling of her chains and the frustrating restriction of movement they imparted, helped her to prepare for the day ahead.
She had to move a little more than half the bricks. Without any distractions she knew she could get it done. A week ago it would have been impossible to contemplate, but all Emily wanted now was to return to the D-wing detail and work with her fellow inmates in the field.
This was it, this was her chance to show them all that she could succeed. There was her yard and there were the bricks. Emily stopped, frozen by the sight that awaited her. The leash pulled tight, jolting her forward and breaking the spell that had halted her so suddenly.
"Pig, five strokes, laziness, Class C," Jennings said into her mic. The guard didn't even bother to look behind, simply continuing towards their destination. She would approve a hundred such infractions if any bitch in her care was lazy or stupid enough to oblige. The reason for the lapse of discipline wasn't her concern.
Emily stumbled forward, almost not hearing the punishment. The bricks! All the bricks she had moved yesterday were back across the yard, all sitting neatly in one single pile as they had been the day before. This wasn't fair, she had worked hard, moving almost half of them twice already. They were just fucking with her now.
She looked at Jennings, the undisguised hatred shining in her eyes. That cow had done this, of that Emily was sure. The anger coursed through her, filling her body with an unexpected strength. The naked girl's fists clenched as she stared at the back of her nemesis. She grit her teeth and took a stepped forward, slowly approaching the distracted guard.
The gate opened and Jennings stepped through, pulling viciously upon the leash. Emily grunted as her collar was jerked against her neck. She stumbled forward, the brief moment of insensate anger gone forever, replaced by a soul-wrenching despair that filled her eyes with tears.
Emily realised how stupid she had been. If Jennings had seen the look upon her face or even guessed at her intentions, she would have quickly found herself writhing in pain upon the dusty ground. Her fate afterwards was not something she wanted to contemplate for long.
"Get your mind on the job, pig. You have to move every last brick to its proper place by the far gate. Each brick costs a dime. Do you know how much more valuable than you that makes a single brick?"
"No, Guard Jennings Ma'am," Emily replied, her head bowed demurely, her morale at its lowest ebb.
"A fucking lot, pig. You treat them with respect. Each one is worth a million of your scraggy ass. Every time you move one, you're to say ‘I'm a worthless bitch that deserves to be punished’. Loud, pig, and clear. Well don't just fucking stand there, get to it."
Emily mumbled an apology and hurried to the untouched cube of red brick. She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that blurred her vision. During her instructions she had fought so hard, not wanting Jennings to see how vulnerable she was. The guard was acting as if the previous day had not existed, instructing her on what she was to do. Was that the way of things? If she didn't finish today, would she start all over again, each day wiped from existence unless she completed the task. She most definitely did not want to find out.
Brick in hand, the naked girl scurried across the yard, memory of the day before flooding back. She was moving fast, a pace she didn't think she could keep up throughout the day but one she needed to try, at least while Jennings was watching. Her thighs burned with the very first squat, the pain in her sore muscles sending a spike of fear into her chest.
This was impossible. She had barely started and already she felt tired. She was going to fail again. She would be back tomorrow and the next day, consigned to this hell until her body adapted. The promised tears finally fell, darkening the grey soil between her feet.
"I'm a worthless bitch," Emily wept, before her voice caught on her rising despair. She had to finish. Babysteps, she thought, just take it one tiny step at a time. Just get through this and the next will be easier. "That deserves to be punished," she finished with as much conviction as she could.
"Get over here, pig," Jennings hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. "What the fuck was that? Are you playing games already? You like games do you, you fucking dopey whore? Well it’s time to stop playing 'let's piss off my superiors' and time to play 'shock my fat ugly cunt please, Guard Jennings'. Do you know how to play that game?"
"No Guard Jennings Ma'am," Emily replied resignedly, her head bowed obsequiously.
"It's so simply even a turd like you should be able to follow the rules. Now the 'stupid bitch', that's you, stands still and pushes her cunt out like a filthy whore. The 'stupid bitch' then asks for her smelly cunt to be shocked. 'Guard Jennings', that's me, then sends a nice little surge through the 'stupid bitch's' fat cunt. This continues until 'Guard Jennings' decides it's time to stop. See isn't that a nice easy game?"
"Yes Guard Jennings Ma’am.'
"Ok, then let's have some fun. No, pig, you wait for Go. You don't just stick that fat snatch at people. Pig, five strokes, solicitation. Are you ready?"
"Yes Guard Jennings Ma'am," Emily croaked, her voice little more than a timid squeak.
"Ready... Set... Wait for it... Go!"
Emily gathered up the chain that ran between her hands and lifted it out of the way. The last thing she wanted was the electricity coursing up into her collar. She spread her legs as far as her restraints would allow, the chain between her ankles drawing taut, and thrust her hips forward, presenting her pussy to the sadistic guard.
Her stomach churned and her chest tightened painfully as she watched the slow progress of the guard’s baton. The bright morning sun shone from the polished baton. Emily could not take her eyes from the rounded tip, her fear growing as the distance between black shaft and pink pussy closed inch by inch.
"Please," Emily began pleadingly but was silenced by the guard.
"No, pig, wait until it’s ready. Damn you’re eager to have that cunny get a little jolt. A real eager beaver," Jennings finished, bursting into laughter at her own joke.
"Sorry, Guard Jennings Ma'am."
Emily grit her teeth, unable to appreciate the guard's sense of humour. Her knees were quivering and her belly trembled uncontrollably the closer the baton came. Time had seemed to slow down, the shiny black rod drawing inexorably closer, the small oval tag in her left labia swinging in slow circles in the open space between her thighs.
Emily jumped when finally the cool plastic baton pressed against her plump vulva. This was the moment she had been waiting for but now that it was here, the words would not come. She clenched her hands around her chains and pulled her restraint tight, tugging against her collar to jolt her from her silence.
"Please Guard Jennings Ma'am, shock my filthy cunt."
Her only answer was an agonising spike of pain in her pussy. She jumped back instantly, falling to the ground to lie writhing in the dirt. The pain from the shock was short and sharp, the initial spike passing, leaving her with a dull ache deep in her sex. Her vision cleared quickly and she crawled ineptly to her feet, her body unwilling to cooperate.
Emily stood before the smiling guard, her entire body shivering as if she was standing in the snow. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, bringing her reeling emotions under control. She thrust her hips forward once more and pursed her lips to stop the desperate moan that threatened to spill free.
"So that's one point to me. Round Two."
"Shock my filthy cunt please, Guard Jennings Ma'am," Emily squeaked when she felt the tip of the baton rest against her clit.
The naked inmate clenched her jaw and waited for the second shock. A second passed, then two, then five. Emily stayed perfectly still, keenly aware that any movement on her part would be interpreted as a sexual advance. Streams of sweat rolled down her body, leaving dark trails in the freshly applied coating of grey dust.
What the fuck was she waiting for? Had she done something wrong? Hadn't she asked properly? As the seconds stretched by, Emily became increasingly convinced that she had failed in some way. The rounded tip of the baton was pushed against her clit, the hard surface causing sensations she fought with every fibre. She couldn't take this any longer, not one more second.
Emily fell to her knees, her restraints pulling tightly at her collar both front and back. She fell forward, her hands shooting out to catch her just in time. She gasped and gagged, her stomach heaving as she fought for breath. A pain she could never describe pulsed through her pussy, from the meaty vulva, that brought her so much attention, to the very depths of her vagina.
She couldn't take much more of this. She didn't know if the baton’s had settings but she was sure the second shock had been more powerful than the first. Agony throbbed through her sex and it took a supreme effort of will to struggle to her feet and present her pussy for a third time.
"Two points for me," Jennings said triumphantly, obviously enjoying her game. "Put that stinking slit away. I'm bored. Do you remember what you were told to say?"
"Yes Guard Jennings Ma'am," Emily replied between the sobs that caused her whole body to shudder.
"I'm a worthless bitch that deserves to be punished."
"And you fucked it up on your very first try. Typical and not acceptable. Go and get that brick and try again."
Emily shuffled rapidly across the yard, her pussy aching. The excruciating sting of the shock-baton always passed quickly but having done so, moved into a dull ache that lingered, slowly seeping into the surrounding flesh. It felt as if someone had kicked her, hard and repeatedly. She had to force herself not to walk with a pronounced bowing of her legs. It was just another pain she had to endure.
A sharp sting shot along the length of her vagina when she spread her legs to retrieve the solitary brick. Emily gasped but ignored the fresh pain. She was wasting time. Her tears had not abated but she was doing her best to force them away. She sniffed noisily, sucking the sticky strings of mucus back into her nose.
Each time she was driven to tears, Emily felt like a little girl. She knew she wasn't crying for nothing, but she couldn't quite banish the thought that she was, that she was crying over nothing, as she had when she was little, the feeling enhanced by her inability to wipe her nose and be able to hold on to at least a little dignity. She had felt her nose running and could do nothing to truly clean the mess. It would soon dry upon her lip, cracking and flaking in a humiliating sign of her helplessness.
Emily slotted the brick into its original position with a tender precision. She knew Jennings was watching her like a hawk, eager for her to make yet another mistake. The naked girl paused for a moment, long enough to let the guard know she was ready to being her task, but not too long lest she be charged with laziness.
"I'm a worthless bitch that deserves to be punished."
The words had been her only focus as she strode quickly to the opposite side of the yard. The brick was safely in position, placed with a careful respect. Emily looked to Jennings for approval, a quick glance that she found no less demeaning for its shortness of duration. The very idea of seeking approval from the woman she hated most in the world, approval that her self-degradation was satisfactory, made her want to scream.
Jennings watched her in silence, the judgmental scrutiny setting the young girl's nerves on edge. Emily knew she was only waiting for her to fuck up, relishing the chance to abuse her further. The woman seemed to thrive on such treatment, more so than any other guard: Sergeant Mailer just hated her; Lee treated her as if she was really an animal; to the technician she was just a project but Jennings enjoyed causing her pain, reveling in her humiliation.
It was after the sixth brick had been placed that she saw the guard walking from the yard. The bottle of water in its strange sling was hung from the wall at the cuntspot, directly above a small drain that she had not noticed the day before. It was identical to that over which she had relieved herself that morning. If only she had seen it the day before, Emily lamented, cursing her stupidity for the thousandth time.
"I'm a worthless bitch that deserves to be punished."
Right now, that was something she couldn't argue with. She was worthless, stuck in this yard, moving bricks ten feet through the dust, only for them to be moved back. She needed to be back with her wing. Her worth was now judged only in terms of the work she could do. So, at this moment, in terms of her life as it was since coming to Pentonbridge, she was worthless. And she deserved to be punished. She had broken the rules.
Her reasoning was sound, but Emily could not completely accept her own logic. She was still, somewhere deep inside, Emily Johannsen. She wasn't pig. She was still a person, a good person. She knew by now that no one cared who she was or who she thought she was, only what she was and in that she had no say.