Chained and Chastened

Schmertz said, as the whimpering blonde sagged between the two guards: " Silence. And restraints. Line up, ladies. Single file. Quickly!"

As the women were herded by the prodding, grinning cops through a double door, Kristin experienced real terror for the first time. Up until now, this was an assignment, an adventure, a bit frightening and degrading ; she had resented the nudity, but such a great story, if she could just survive to tell it.' But now, that savage whipping, the leering guards, and especially the colonel's almost palpable evil vibes--she was really scared, regretting her whole plan. She was suddenly aware that the leather clad colonel was staring directly at her with a steely gaze. Kirstin quailed. She had hoped not to attract any attention. She slumped againt the wall, trying to look inconspicuous, to cover herself; too late. Colonel Schmertz with a tight cruel smile gestured at Kristin with her whip,

"You there. Yes you, the big titted blonde. Front and center! You have the honor to be our first customer in the discipline barracks." *

She nodded to the guards who shoved Kristin into the doorway where her arms were brusquely pulled behind her. Click. Click. Before she could protest she was handcuffed In heavy iron manacles, tight, pressing against her bare bottom, totally immobilizing her. She was terrified. Why had she been singled out? Had her newspaper assignment been discovered? And the handcuffs themselves...she shuddered, aware that the colonel's cold stare continued to regard her, possibly with sexual intensity. Kirstin's knees almost buckled. The cuffs were so tight, so heavy!

*

Her shoulders were stressed, pulled back; her breasts jutted forward. Suddenly the memory of the one other time she had been cuffed flooded back: a student protest, a corrupt cop. She remembered her ordeal in that alley; fondled, caressed, totally unable to prevent the outrage and the dirty sense of shame, of feeling soiled as he fumbled under her miniskirt and fingered her, helpless with the harsh steel on her wrists.

That was then, this was the all too real now. As she struggled frantically, futiley, she saw the others being handcuffed too; one blonde, Susie, a total airhead, was still unaware of what was happening, and even smiled winsomely at the guard as he cuffed her. "Little fool!" Kristin cursed under her breath.

*

Click. Click. Click. The grim sound echoed, signifying their loss of freedom. Soon all twelve prisoners were handcuffed and herded into a dank concrete room with showers and open pit toilets; some sort of primitive locker room, perhaps. The whipped blonde, Alice, cuffed and gagged, continued her muffled moans; several of the other women nudged close, trying to comfort her.

The captives were confronted by a group of...what? Kristin was confused ; her worry had become outright panic. The six women--guards?--

confronting her were wearing some sort of uniform: tight leather skirts, shirts, ties, peaked officers hats. They looked like a Nazi chorus line, or some S and M, B and D fantasy. As they roughly shoved the cuffed women into the center of the damp concrete room, abusing and slapping them, viciously tweaking a nipple or two, Col. Schmertz spoke once more.

*

"Let me introduce your matrons. During your imprisonment, you will obey them implicitly!" The uniformed women smirked, a few brandished whips. Colonel Schmertz grinned maliciously. "Now your indoctrination begins! Matrons, strap them to the showers!"

Consternation. The cuffed victims were no match for their whip wielding oppresors. Some tried to resist, to no avail. Some of the male guards, now lingering in the doorway anticipating the show to come, helped the female torturers. Soon all twelve women were strapped or cuffed or otherwise restrained against the damp concrete wall. Several of the captives, shouting angrily, had been ruthlessly gagged, and were now choking on the big ball gags as they were strapped or chained to the showerheads.

*

Schmertz could scarcely contain her glee; these were the sadistic moments she lived for! "And now, you dirty whores! It's shower time!"

The chained women looked at one another, confused and fearful. Showers? What now? The nazi matrons turned on high pressure hoses. Stinging jets of icy water punished the screaming women; chained, twisting and turning, they could not elude the frigid blasts. The sadistic matrons focused the nozzles on breasts and bellies. The screams subsided to waterlogged sputters and whimpers. * *

The uniformed guards were merciless; the icy hosing continued; the demoralized women, most of them now sobbing, were no longer trying to escape the icy jets.

The cruel soaking seemed to go on forever, or so it seemed to the miserable women. The nazi matrons were enjoying themselves; the watching male guards were hooting and cheering as the torture continued. "Look at that bitch squirm!", one exulted. "You mean that hot blonde with the tits? She's really gettiing her pussy flushed!" his buddy chuckled. Kristin gritted her teeth and tried to endure, to just hold on. Then one of the matrons approached her with a length of black rope. What now? She soon found out.

* Kristin was one of the captives selected for special treatment. With Col. Schmertz's urging, the matrons had devised even more ingenious forms of water torture. Tying ropes around the waists and through the crotches of some of the dripping women, they tugged the ropes through ovehead pulleys and tied them to empty pails. As the sprayed water filled the pails, they got heavier and heavier--the vicious hosing was still in full force-- the wet ropes sawed through their pubic clefts ; the pails filled, pulling them up on their toes, and finally off the floor, dangling, suspended by the abrading wet ropes. * *

And still the merciless hosing continued. Kristin, soaked, shivering, now on tiptoe with a harsh rope sawing into her cunt as her pail filled, moaned once more with outrage and misery. Splash! Another stinging jet of water in the face. And another. Kristin's spirits were eroding fast--washed away.

*

Finally Schmertz signaled a halt. With her experience as a torturer she sensed that this group of recruits was effectively broken, or nearly so. She exulted. She loved this rush, this moment of domination. She smiled and gave a nod to her nazi matrons; They had done this before; they understood what was about to happen.

One statuesque brunette matron in high leather boots, Dashka (known as Dashka the Dyke) stripped off her top and joined the soaked prisoners, slowly at first, like a panther stalking her prey. What now? The chained soaking women shivered, from fear as well as the icy water as Dashka began terrorizing them at her leisure, hosing them at close range, forcing them to their knees for lesbian foreplay, fondling their dripping cunts; the soaked women could not escape her torture. Kristin was slated to be one of the victims, a very special victim. *

Dashka stalked them slowly., selecting her victims at random. She stroked, then abused them, two or three at a time, forcing her perverted attentions on them, fondling, slapping, and always fingering their wet crotches. The male guards crowded the shower room doors grinning and nudging onenother; this was always the best show in town. *

Dashka saved Kristin for dessert, forcing the shamed bedraggled blonde between her widespread thighs for a long bout of forced cunnilingus; It seemed to go on forever. Somehow the presence of the smirking guards who had gathered to watch the show only deepened her sense of shame.

Finally the colonel intervened, smiling sweetly at the twisted matron: "That will do for now, Dashka, my dear. Remember, girls, we have many more showers in store for you." The prisoners, soaked, whipped, and now sexually humiliated, scarcely protested as they were unchained from the showers and reshackled for a forced march to their barracks. *

Schmertz was quite satisfied with herself and today's progress. They were nearly broken already! Just a few more days....The sadistic Colonel's employers (not the government, as the volunteers and Kristin had assumed, but a private, multinational crime syndicate dealing in white slave prostitution, among other crimes, was behind the whole evil project. Millions had been spent to bribe lawmakers and several top pentagon and CIA officials and base commanders to set up the elaborate hoax that had entrapped Kristin's class--and five prior groups of hapless victims.) Her superiors would be proud of this day's work, Schmertz gloated to herself.. And more days of domination to come! She had that one strawberry blonde, that Kristin, already picked out for "special treatment". She was sure that the blonde woman was a closet lesbian; she was certainly going to find out. She smiled as the whimpering women were shackled together chain gang style and marched to a cold cellar to spend a miserable night.

*

!

DAY TWO

Kristin awoke to the ungentle prodding of a matron's boot. For a moment she shuddered, relieved that her horrible nightmare was over, then as she registered the damp straw, the cuffs that restrained her aching arms, she realized that this was really happening; there had been no nightmare, just a long chilly night of misery, She raised her head; the other women, those who had finally been able to sleep, were also being booted awake. still painfully chained, thoroughly miserable.

*

Some of the captives had not slept at all; huddled together for a tiny bit of warmth on the cold wet cement floor over which a small amount of straw had been spread, Janeesha and a few others had tried to keep up the spirits of the group, but feeble whispers weren't much help. Kristin didn't even try to see the bright side; there was none. Before she finally drifted off for a few hours of fitful sleep. she began to realize that she might never be able to break her big story. This whole new twist was just too bizarre, too sinister. The kind of thing that left few--or no--survivors. She shuddered, and not just from the cold, as she burrowed into the soggy straw,.

Now, morning. The sun was just rising, early sunlight glinting off the shivering, still wet prisoners in the open shed. The matrons lined them up, still chained, huddled together, before they brought out a long wooden trougn, and poured it full of some kind of warm gruel from ten gallon pails. "Chow down, girls. Belly up to the trough!" one of the matrons cackled. * The women exchanged glances, moaning and complaining now: "Hey! take off these cuffs!" We can't eat like this!" Take off these handcuffs!" What is this shit?" The matron laughed again.

" No hands needed, pigs! Stick your faces in it! this is all the breakfast you're going to get." The women were famished; they had not been fed after the brutal shower ordeal. One, the slightly plump bank clerk, Norma, shuffled on her knees to the trough, then dipped her face into the gruel. She straightened up, face smeared,and whined defensively to the others: "Fuck you! Fuck you all! I'm starving!" She ducked her head and slurped some more.

Reluctantly, sheepishly, one by one the women knelt at the trough. Kristin was not the last to resist the degrading meal, Jasheena was. And surprisingly, the slim blonde librarian. But Kristin was starving, too. Soon she was bent over the trough with the rest; the warm slop was not too bad, she told herself, trying not to register the total debasement they were all enduring. Col. Schmertz in a figure hugging black leather outfit, officer's cap and dark sunglasses, swishing her riding crop, had arrived, smiling her evil smile. She nodded to her matrons.

Kneeling at the trough the prisoners hands were still cuffed behind them, bare asses raised and vulnerable. The nazi maidens moved behind them and began to whip them, almost playfully at first, then harder and harder. The miserable captives, new pain added to their humiliation, writhed, winced, moaned and slobbered through the sticky gruel. Kristin straightened up to protest, received another stinging whiplash, and decided "what the hell". Glumly she pushed her face back into the slop; she was still hungry. Oww! One more slash across her already welted butt!

Schmertz nodded again. The matrons removed the food trough and prodded the women erect. Hair and faces smeared with the sticky gruel, heads hanging, some sobbing openly, they scarcely resembled the proud unit that had marched into the training hall less than 24 hours earlier.

"Let's wash up, girls! You have a big day ahead!" Scmertz's voice mocked them. The matrons turned on the high velocity hoses again. Totally dispirited, the cuffed women scarcely resisted as their faces were hosed clean. They stood in a rough line, dripping and shivering again.

The leather sheathed colonel strutted before them, smiling her malicious smile : "I think you need a little exercise, a little honest toil out in the sun. Time for a little change of uniform. Matrons! Guards!"

The guards had not been active during the feeding degradation, but, lounging against the walls, had enjoyed the ignominious feeding at the trough, and especially the spectacle of twelve lovely asses jutting provocatively and thoroughly whipped . Hot Damn! Now the guards came forward and stood behind the women, holding their cuffed wrists (and also pawing and prodding their sore bottoms). The matrons lined up in front of the prisoners with lighter cuffs and chains in their hands. At a signal from Schmertz the guards unlocked the heavy irons; before the girls could even rub their numb wrists, they were recuffed, hands in front.

The colonel pointed to a pile of scuffed weatherbeaten calf high boots. "Boots! Put them on! Quick!" The prisoners were so grateful for the new light

cuffs, linked with eighteen inch chains that allowed them to use their hands for the first time since their initial handcuffing that they didn't question the order. In just a few minutes, booted and chained, they were lined up and marched out of the stable and into the bright sunlight.

"Girls! Today you will work. Very hard, I'm afraid. Arbeit Macht Frei! I mean, work leads to freedom. You will run to the work site. Now! run!"

The guards and two of the matrons, indicated the path. The chained nudes were prodded and whipped along a gravel road and trotted into a dry grassy meadow on the agency grounds.

*

It was still early in the morning, but the sun was already bright. At first the heat was welcome to the soaked joggers, but soon they were beginning to sweat, urged along by the whips of the guards. From their prior training all of the women were fit; still, after the first quarter mile, a few began to gasp and lag; the whips urged them on. *

They were herded over a little wooded rise into what appeared to be a gravel pit, dusty and forbidding. The women looked at one another with dismay. What kind of?...

Schmertz had arrived iin a light truck. Piled in the back were picks and shovels. "Achtung! I mean, Attention!" As this hellish ordeal progressed, Kristin noted, the dyke was getting more and more Germanic. What was that about?

The leather clad colonel continued: "Each of you. Grab a shovel. Climb down into the gravel pits! You will move fourteen tons of gravel from one side of the road to the other--or else! Get to work!" The captives grudgingly accepted the shovels handed out by the guards and shuffled down the steep rocky slope. Reluctantly they began to shovel; they had no other option. The brutal guards and matrons made sure of that. * The arduous hours passed, the sun was now malevolent beating down on their bare bodies. Shovel, shovel, shovel again; anyone lagging was whipped. Bending and groaning, they continued to toil. It was evident that this was just make work; later, someone (maybe them) would move the huge gravel pile back to the other side of the road. This was not useful work; this was just one more sadistic punishment.

It was nearly noon. The exhausted women had been shovelling for nearly four hours. Several had slumped to their knees, unable to continue despite the guard's and matron's lashings. Kristin, gleaming with sweat, continued to shovel, driven by some sort of foolish pride: 'that bitch is not going to break me" she kept telling herself. "and when I expose this fucking operation!..."

Alongside her, sweating, dusty but with fire in her eyes, Maria, a Latino hairdresser, swung her shovel, muttering under her breath. "We will beat these pendejos, these lousy cunts, eh? " she whispered to Kristin. "Fuck them all!" *

Kristin nodded and managed a tiny grim smile. "Right. Somehow, we're going to take these sadistic assholes down! And I do mean that evil lesbian!"

Most of the laborers were exhausted, slumping, sprawled in the gravel pit despite the urging of their captors. Schmertz intervened: "Prisoners! You have done very poorly this morning. But for now, a short respite. Water. Soon you will work again. Except you." She pointed to Kristin. "I don't like your attitude. You whisper to others, you have an arrogant posture. You will submit to me before we finish, I promise you! But for now, keep shovelling! The rest of you, drink!"

Kristin had hoped to blend into the class, to be unobtrusive; her own sense of self and pride had evidently betrayed her--or maybe that dyke had a letch for her. Anyway, it was too late to change her fate; she kept shovelling, now glistening with sweat. Schmertz watched. Behind her, one of the guards chuckled at her plight. * The other women, sprawled exhausted in the sun, watching Kristin's ordeal (each thinking 'God, I'm glad that's not me') were given bottled water, which they downed greedily. Colonel Schmertz in her tight dominatrix leathers seemed immune from the heat; she strode among the weary women, riding crop in hand, giving an idle flick here and there; a nipple, an exposed ass cheek.

Almost fainting, slick with sweat, Kristin continued to shovel gravel.

"Prisoners! Slackers! I am allowing you a slight break in the woods, out of this burning sun." The captives nodded approval, Now rehydrated, they were more aware of their sunburns, especially those usually covered areas; many had severely burnt rosy bottoms and boobs. Schmertz hadn't finished.

"But what's a picnic in the woods without a companion? My guards will accompany you" Grinning broadly, the guards descended upon the women, making their selections and tieing, then dragging their helpless choices into the woods. Susie, no longer the clueless blonde bimbo., was first.

Most screamed, fought, tried to scratch or kick; about half of the tired captives, spirits already broken, dully followed their likely rapists over the rim of the gravel pit.

Marcia, the redheaded travel agent, had long since given up. Slumping, head down, she allowed herself to be tugged across the rocky terrain with scarcely a fight. *

There were more prisoners than guards; Alice the librarian and Celeste, a classical violist, made a break for it, running into the woods. They didn't get far. Three of the matrons captured them almost at once; I won't describe the lesbian indignities that followed. Hint: think dildos and strapons. *

Maria fought like a tiger; Chuckie, the guard who seized her, parried her scratches and kicks and bites, getting more turned on all the time. He was too strong for her as he forced a gag, between her teeth, tied her, and with one hand in the ropes he had tugged through her crotch, goosed her into the woods. She never stopped struggling. *

Kristin, exhausted, had finally dropped her shovel. Schmertz, sitting under a portable umbrella out of the direct sun, motioned her to join her. Kristin hesitated, but finally shuffled up the hill and slumped at the colonel's feet. What more could she lose?

"Kneel, slut!" The dominant woman lightly whipped Kristin's belly, then breasts. Wincing, the weary blonde knelt between Schmertz's leather clad thighs. "That's much better! I will not tolerate insolence! Understand?" She slashed the kneeling blonde across the hips. Kristin gasped. Schmertz tangled one hand in her hair and jerked her head up, staring fiercely into her eyes. "In each class there is one trouble maker. Don't let it be you. I am fully aware of your dossier, newslady! After this afternoon's work time, I think you'll need special attention." Kristin, trembling, could not meet the concentrated venom of her gaze. She felt her will to resist crumbling. At the same moment, she sensed a perverse sexual vibe from the lesbian, and her own unbidden response.