Colony Pt. 01

Editor's note: this work contains scenes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

*****

Pennie jumped when the holding cell door slammed shut. Knowing that it could all end with a word or gesture didn't make the sudden and complete lack of freedom any easier. The more primitive parts of her brain screamed out in terror. A deep, troubling thought was forming out of pure instinct: run, fight, hide, or die!

Instead, Pennie did her best to focus on the silence and the present peace at hand.

She'd only seen a little of the PNS Colony so far, and there were no clocks anywhere, no real windows showing the outside world. Just an institutional blandness that left her feeling isolated and unmoored.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered to herself. "Oh, yeah. One Million Dollars."

Pennie sat with her bare feet up on the bunk, which was just a slab of industrial foam with a green vinyl cover. It gave very little cushion against the metal shelf it sat on. There was a seatless stainless steel toilet and matching sink, concrete floor and ceiling, and cinderblock walls painted a dull color that was not gray or tan but somehow both. All that was left was a steady stream of white light through the windows that were far out of reach near the ceiling. She was certain that they looked out on nothing but bulbs that were chosen to best mimic daylight, no matter the time of day. Nothing else. Charming.

It could have been minutes or hours after the door closed that the food slot opened, and a commanding voice was finally heard.

"Inmate 93NN1E Disrobe completely and pass the garments through the slot. Quickly, now."

Compliance, submission, and obedience equals survival. Easy, right?

The orange prison jumpsuit came off with a long zip, a shrug of the shoulders, and a couple of easy steps out of the legs. Her prison issued underwear was next, just simple garments: the panties were gray, slightly baggy, and thin. The gray tank top had no support whatever but did keep her nipples from rubbing on the rough fabric of the jumpsuit the wrong way. She folded everything up neatly and shoved it through the meal slot.

Pennie sat back down on the bunk to wait. Waiting at the PNS Colony was going to be her best friend and worst enemy, so she got to getting to know it better.

What is it people say when they're complaining about how every day at the office feels the same? Time is a flat circle.

Pennie never knew what they meant until she was put into the holding cell. The short, flat circle of time she was on would soon be broken by a guard taking her to an unknown fate.

At least there was that.

She finally heard fate approaching in the form of boots squeaking against the polished concrete floor outside, along with the sound of something heavy rolling on wobbly wheels.

The cell door opened outward. She supposed that was so that the inmate couldn't brace it shut, making it easy to enter whenever necessary.

A young woman in a Colony guard uniform pushed in flat rolling cart that was like something you'd see at Sam's Club ahead of her. The word 'contraption' sprung to mind when Pennie examined the metal structure welded to the center of the cart.

Pennie hugged her knees close to her chest, sitting as far back against the wall as the narrow bunk would allow.

"Hello, Inmate 93NN1E. I'm Officer Doreen. If you follow my instructions carefully the first time, every time, I'm sure we'll get along fine. Speak only when you are spoken to, and keep your answers to one or two words only, understand?"

"Yes, mam."

"Very good."

Officer Doreen was taller than Pennie, her sturdy frame hidden and nearly formless under the uniform, a stark contrast to her fresh young face. A tiny bit of blonde hair was visible under her flat service cap, and there was a light spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She also had a bright smile, a weird thing to see in such a grim context.

"This is your first time being transported, right?"

"Yes, mam."

Her trip through processing where she turned over every stitch of her civilian clothes, given a quick once-over from a nurse, and ordered to dress in the inmate uniform was as fast as it was forgettable. From there she was walked by a guard down one short hallway from processing to the holding cell. Easy.

"You should understand that if you make my job difficult in any way, I am authorized to use coercion devices and methods if necessary."

She had assumed this from the moment she arrived at the Colony, but Officer Doreen was the first person to say more than three words in a row to her. Pennie felt all the blood drain from her face and her mouth drop open from the explicit threat.

Pennie noted that Officer Doreen had just two things on her utility belt: a bunch of long black zip-ties and a short club. The club didn't seem that sturdy, but it did have a couple of small silver pins sticking out the end of it. There seemed to be things stuffed into the cargo pockets of her pants, but Pennie had little interest in speculating what might be in there.

The guard must have sensed Pennie sizing her up.

"Nothing to worry about, as long as you comply, right?"

"Yes, mam."

"You should be excited. I just started here a couple of months back and I have never seen an inmate get transported on the Archer Seat."

Pennie gulped.

"Stand up, let me get a look at you."

She slid off the bunk, her cold, sweaty skin squeaking across the cheap vinyl. Her legs felt wobbly, like she was fresh off a crazy rollercoaster.

"Stand up straight, chest out. Lace your fingers behind your head and spread your legs apart."

She took a deep breath and obeyed. Her teeth were chattering, out of control, and there was an uneasy shudder deep in her chest.

"Goodness, inmate, you are gorgeous! Your hair is beautiful; so black it's almost blue, and so long too. Did you braid it yourself?"

Pennie gave the guard a nod and a half-hearted smile. She expected a lot, but compliments hadn't ever been on the list.

"And you have the cutest little smile, too. No ink or piercings, recently waxed, very nice. Everyone is just going to eat you up."

Pennie groaned, unable respond.

"Not literally, beautiful," the guard chuckled. "I mean, all the guards and interrogators are just going to love you."

"Thank you, mam." Pennie wasn't sure if the guard meant that as a threat. The tone simply did not match the content.

"You should have gotten your nipples and clit pierced, though. It would have helped your interrogators, but it's too late now."

"Sorry, mam."

"The Colony used to offer piercings on-site, but the healing period interfered with the interrogations, so..." she trailed off, clearly admiring Pennie's trembling nakedness.

"Ok, you're going to get onto the cart now. The Archer Seat requires a little effort to get into, so I'll be happy to guide and help you. Once you're in place, the device will make adjustments for your comfort and safety, then we'll be on our way."

"Yes, mam."

"If you are extra obedient, I may be able to give you a hint as to where we are going, ok sexy?"

Pennie nodded.

"Ok, step onto the cart. Don't worry. I've locked the wheels, it won't move."

She did so, the cold the surface of the cart bit her bare feet. Her fearful shivering intensified.

"Sit down on the small seat facing forward. Put your ankles against the shackles and your arms backwards over the bar."

She sat, the small seat cushion letting out a puff of air as she settled her weight. The ankle restraint bars were at weird angles under the seat, forcing her legs into an awkward position. As soon as she applied pressure against the shackles, they snapped shut. There was ample padding, so while they felt snug, the cuffs didn't cut into her.

Pennie sat back against the Archer Seat's single polished steel bar of a spine that topped off just behind her head. The equally cold and steely cross bar she was supposed to drape her arms over ran just under her shoulder blades. She was craning her neck around to figure out how to comply when she noticed another set of arms sprouting out backward from the spine that ended in cuffs that were clearly meant for her wrists. They were about the same level as the seat; this was going to be uncomfortable to say the least.

The guard's expression grew impatient; Pennie must have faltered there too long.

"Here, let me help."

Officer Doreen guided her arms over and back, one at a time. Having both wrists pushed into the cuffs at the same time caused an involuntary groan to escape Pennie's lips. The shackles snapped shut on their own just like the ankle cuffs did.

"Sorry, inmate. Can't be avoided."

Office Doreen moved around to the front of the cart, inspecting her work so far.

"Mmm, sorry we can't spend a little quality time together," she shook her head with the regret of missed pleasure, "but I've got to get you secured and on your way."

Pennie moved against her restraints and found almost no give or slack, making her wonder what Officer Doreen meant about getting her secured. More secure than this? The Archer Seat had her well and truly trapped.

"You're lucky you got me today. Most guards aren't moved to explain much, or talk at all, really, to the inmates."

Officer Doreen pulled a small tablet from her back pocket and showed it to Pennie.

"I'm going to use this tablet to adjust your position in the Archer Seat. All of the Colony's devices are smart in their own way. They have sensors for passenger biometrics and servos to move the inmate's body to precisely determined positions. They also have an RFID chip that allows the Colony's health and security system know where the device and its passenger is at all times."

Officer Doreen tapped the tablet screen, and the Archer Seat began to hum and vibrate just outside Pennie's perception.

"The transport devices have sensors that measure the amount of pressure you are putting on the restraints, so you should do your best not to struggle. Putting up too much of a fight during transport counts as an offence."

"Yes mam," Pennie whimpered.

"You may have guessed that the Archer Seat got its name for the arched, exposed position that it has you in. Whoever ordered this protocol for you wants you on full display for transport. Your tits are spectacular by the way."

The smallest squeak escaped the tight control Pennie was trying to maintain, making her feel lost and pathetic.

"Ok, the device is done calibrating. When I push this button, the Archer Chair will move you into the optimal position. Take a deep breath and do your best not to struggle, ok sexy?"

Pennie could only nod, her lips pressed tight against her clenched teeth. The Archer Seat moved more slowly than she expected, but her fear and discomfort only increased. Her arms and legs were manipulated by the device more than she thought was possible, causing all coherent thought to evaporate during the two minutes it took the Archer Seat to finish positioning her.

"Stop trying to move your legs, inmate."

"I'm sorry mam, I didn't know I was."

She relaxed her lower body as best she could. No pain yet, but the all-consuming sense of confinement and exposure was making her deeply anxious.

"Now you are pulling on your arms."

"Sorry!"

"Breathe now. Relax, and breathe, and accept it."

Pennie finally took a deep breath and felt down inside herself. So far, nothing felt that bad physically, it was her mental state that felt out of control.

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can, Inmate 93NN1E. Give yourself over to the device. You promised to do so when you arrived at the Colony, right? Time to honor your promises."

Officer Doreen had a point, the higher functioning part of Pennie's brain shouted over the chaos of her baser instincts. The detached, almost disinterested part of her that always observed intense life events did it's best to unify the warring sects of her persona, talk her down off the edge of panic, and remind her that despite what the guard had said, she had enough agency left to end it all with the safeword.

But wouldn't that be a shame.

"There you go, inmate. You are stronger than you think you are." Officer Doreen nodded at whatever the tablet was showing her about Pennie's state.

For a brief, hallucinatory moment, Pennie could see herself through the guard's eyes:

Back arched, tits out, brown nipples hard enough to cut glass, arms contorted backward over the cross bar. Her legs pulled apart, ankles wrenched back, her creamy thighs framing her sex, the tips of her toes barely brushing the cold metal surface of the cart. The only thing she couldn't envision was her face. No expression she had ever made in the mirror or caught in a picture reflected her state of mind.

"Well done, inmate. You are ready for transport. Remember to relax and breathe as much as you can. While the cart is on the yellow line any struggling will count as an offence and make the day much harder than it will already be."

Officer Doreen pocketed the tablet and went around behind the cart. The cell door opened automatically when she pushed the cart toward it and out they went.

The holding cell corridor was short, there were only five other cell doors besides the one they just left. There were a series of differently colored lines on the bare concrete floor that reminded Pennie of the last time she visited the emergency room.

"I've only done transport three times before you, and it's been different each time," the guard said. "I had to put gags and hoods on two of the girls, while one was allowed to walk on her own with no restraints at all. She was naked, of course, they all were."

Pennie wasn't sure what to make of this information, focused as she was on not falling to pieces inside.

The maze of corridors wound about in confusing ways. So many cell doors, so many inmates going through a similar experience as everyone else. Pennie got the sense that maybe the route the guard was taking her was deliberately obscure, but the yellow line never crossed itself or doubled back.

Every door and gate they approached opened on their own when the cart got close enough. Pennie wondered if it was the device she was on or something that Officer Doreen was doing, but it seemed automatic.

There were guards and inmates going who knows where, always a duo, one in the sexless navy-blue Colony guard uniform, the other exposed and bound. The guards all seemed faceless to Pennie. The inmates were all women, a diverse group otherwise, and Pennie found herself making eye contact with her fellow sufferers whenever possible, though there were a lot of hoods and blindfolds. Some were on carts like hers held tight in similar contraptions, others walking under their own power. The walking inmates always had their hands bound in some humiliating way, and most were wearing chained ankle cuffs to hobble their movement.

There was only one consistent theme to the orange inmate uniforms when they were worn at all: exposure. Some uniforms were just a shirt, or a pair of close-fitting chaps, or a jumpsuit like what Pennie got in processing but with holes cut in strategically significant places. So many tits and asses, so many nipples and bare-shaved vaginas. It was like the whole Colony was the gym changing room.

"Almost there," the guard stated. "How are you doing, inmate?"

"Ok, mam." In truth, a dull ache was starting to set in her lower back, and her joints felt tight while her muscles, especially her legs, seemed to have gone to jelly. Fascination and terror jostled for position in her mind, and she was reminded every time they passed watching eyes of her humiliating predicament.

"I promised you I would tell you where you are going."

"Yes, mam?"

"Interrogation. All inmates are interrogated once every couple of days."

"I don't think I can do this."

"Sure you can inmate, and you won't be alone either. I mean, you'll probably be alone with the interrogator during the sessions, but it's happening to everyone here."

Pennie let that information rattle around in her head for a while. They'd entered what appeared to be a deserted part of the Colony; there wasn't much else to look at or think about now, just terrorizing speculation about the interrogation methods she would be subject to.

They entered a corridor that looked identical to the holding cell passage that they had left some fifteen minutes before and stopped in front of the first heavy metal door that, for once, didn't open for them. The feeling that the guard had pushed her around in circles redoubled.

Pennie closed her eyes, attempting to escape in the only way left to her.

There was a click of a magnetic lock releasing and a slight creak of the opening door. The air that escaped the room was as chilly as everywhere else in the Colony but overcoming the slight disinfectant smell that had accompanied them the whole way was a new, more clinical odor. Latex rubber and cheap sex lube? Ozone?

"Oh my, isn't this one pretty!?"

"She's a looker for sure."

Officer Doreen pushed the cart into the interrogation room, the door closing on its own behind them.

"Did she give you any trouble?"

"None at all. It was hard on her, getting her positioned on the Archer Seat just right, but she did just fine."

Pennie opened her eyes. It was dark, lit only by some office-type lighting escaping from the margins of a heavy curtain that sectioned off the scary part of the room. Other than the interrogator, there was only a couple of metal folding chairs and a small rolling suitcase propped up against the wall. Pennie's stomach sunk even further when she realized that the suitcase was probably full of the interrogator's tools.

"No gag or supplementary restraints? No Motivator?"

The interrogator wore black army boots, black cargo pants, and a black commando sweater, like something you'd see in an old Bond film. He was muscular and tall and had a forgettable face, his hair was also average and anonymous.

"Nope, perfectly compliant, this one."

Officer Doreen handed the cart's tablet to the interrogator. He looked at it with interest.

"Well, that's good to hear," he mused. "Hmmm, no offences? Tablet didn't record much of a fight at all."

"She must be special for someone to order the Archer for her first transport," Officer Doreen offered.

"Seems like it," he agreed. "She's my inmate now, at least for the next few hours, but I would like you to remain here and observe. I went ahead and cleared your schedule."

"Are you sure, sir? I'm still pretty new here."

"Management likes to encourage our young staff members to take a pro-active role, so I'm more than happy to open some doors for you."

It was unsettling when they finally both turned to face her, having spent the whole conversation getting talked past and barely looked at. Perched and contorted as she was on the Archer Seat, Pennie should be the most visibly interesting thing in the room, but no. Shop talk. It wouldn't be the first time that Pennie felt unbalanced by the clash between expectation and reality at the Colony.

"Did you hear that, inmate? I get to observe your interrogation today!"

"First thing to know about interrogations is," the interrogator continued with the guard, "the inmates who put up the most fight during transport are usually the ones who break the fastest. Inmate 93NN1E here will likely put on quite a show for us."

"Yes, I sense that she is quite spirited. I'm a big fan of her already."

"It will be fun to test her limits. I'm sure it will take some time before we see this one break."

"Inmate 93NN1E, this is Interrogator Rory."

Pennie held her tongue.

"Pleased to meet you, inmate. You may address me as sir. No need to swallow the mouthful that is Interrogator Rory."