Emma's Sentence

Emma had expected that. Privacy for the technicians was taken very seriously in the official sources for the new legal reforms, and it was also always remarked upon on the survivor website. Still he wasn't specific how much she would be stripped for her punishment or how she would be restrained.

"Any questions?" he growled.

Again, it didn't really sound like a question. She hoped somebody would get another chance to ask somebody who seemed a little nicer.

"No, I'm good," she told him.

"Good, there never are," he said shaking his head. Reaching for a button on his desk he told her, "I'm going to call the guard to take you to your cell."

Emma's fears were still rising, especially now that she had a cell. She started to feel like a real prisoner now.

Another female guard knocked and then entered the office. She nodded to the man before ordering Emma to stand. "Hands behind your back, prisoner."

Emma had to obey. She stood and walked toward the shorter woman, before meekly turning her back and placing her wrists together behind her back. The woman attached handcuffs to her wrists, locking them uncomfortably.

"Don't forget her purse," the older man stated indicating Emma's bag sitting on the floor. The guard bent down and picked up the purse before pulling Emma out the door. She kept a hand wrapped around Emma's arm guiding her to the end of the hallway through a heavy metal door. When the pair went through the door, the guard turned to make sure the door closed completely. Emma saw that the hallway was splitting in two. A sign pointed men toward the right and women toward the left.

The guard continued pushing Emma to the left. The hallway transitioned into gray concrete walls on her right and vertical steel bars on her left. She walked almost to the end of the hallway where there was another heavy metal door thirty feet ahead. The guard gripped her tighter to signal Emma to stop. She opened the cell door and shoved Emma ahead of her. She closed the door, which produced a thunk as it locked.

"Put your hands through the bars," the woman commanded gruffly.

Emma turned and shoved her hands back through the bars, in a moment she felt the handcuffs release from her wrists. "Here's your purse," she said slipping Emma's bag through the bars of the cage before turning to return down the hallway, her footfalls echoing down the hallway.

Now alone, she examined the cell. It was the same gray concrete on three sides with steel bars on the fourth wall behind her which reminded Emma of an Old West movie. There was a metal bed with a thin mattress against the wall to her right, and a metal toilet in the back-right corner.

"I wonder how long I have to wa . . . what's that?"

A horrifying, pained scream had echoed down the hallway. There was somebody being punished in a neighboring cell! Emma's anxiety spiked. She felt faint and had to sit down on the bed.

Another scream travelled down the hallway. Emma's felt her heart race as a new scream erupted every few seconds. "Oh god, that's terrible."

She laid down on the bed with her head away from the door trying to escape the noise, but there was no avoiding them. She covered her ears with her hands, but the muffled yells still assaulted her nerves.

Emma felt each howl of pain deep inside her. She started to identify with the victim as she realizing she was soon to be next. She really hoped that her sentence was less severe than this woman's. "It can't be that bad for speeding, can it?"

After a few minutes the screams subsided. Uncovering her ears, she thought she could hear sobbing and long gasps for breath.

The whole morning, really the last three weeks, Emma had tried to not think about what was about to happen to her. That was why she read other people's stories and distracted herself with all the advice posts. However, hearing the screams of her neighbor brought it all to life for her.

She wondered what it was going to be like to take her clothes off for strangers. She hoped the guards would be women, that would make it a little better. Only two men had ever seen her breasts, and she didn't want to add to that number today. Growing up, she was always insecure about her chest. She had seen all her friends fill out, she had always thought she was just a late bloomer and they would grow eventually but, in the meantime, she had turned to padding and push up bras to make herself look more womanly.

Now twenty-two, it was clear she was just meant to be flat chested. Sometimes she worried about looking boyish and wished they were larger, but no guy she had hooked up with had ever complained. She was mostly happy with her boobs and all in all she was happy with her body and especially proud of keeping in good shape. She worked hard in the gym to maintain her flat stomach and toned legs.

After a few minutes of reverie, she heard creaky doors opening and closing in the hallway to the left. The woman she'd been listening to must be done with her punishment. "I hope I'm not next. There was that pale guy still in front of me."

Emma contemplated her upcoming ordeal. She kind of knew what a flogger, like a whip with a lot of tails, was but she couldn't remember any stories of floggers used in accounts she'd read. "Every center is different, indeed." She was worried about the pain. She wasn't sure if having small boobs was an asset or not. Her breasts are obviously more tender than the rest of her chest so maybe it was better that there was less breast to be hit, but then again, she had less of a cushion to block the blows.

She figured it was the same situation with twisting her breasts. "There's really only my nipples for them to get a hold of." She shuddered at the pain that she was imagining. She's always thought she had sensitive nipples. "But that was during sex, maybe this will be different."

There were footsteps coming down the hall. The same guard who led her to the cell was now leading the middle-aged woman from her cell back to the waiting room. The woman was red faced and struggling to walk. She was even still handcuffed. It seemed to Emma that she'd been through a lot. "They don't mess around here." Emma remembered that her husband must be waiting for her, she wished there was someone to wait for her. She tried to shake that thought aside, "Don't worry about Sam. You have to get through this first."

Shortly after the guard returned with a companion. Emma's heart sank when she saw it was a tall, broad shouldered man with curly brown hair. "It must be time."

The mean woman spoke, "Stay on your bed, prisoner. Don't move." The woman, still eyeing Emma, opened the cell door and her captors entered, closing the door behind them. The man seemed hesitant and stayed a step behind the woman.

Emma noticed the woman roll her eyes when she noticed his tentativeness. She spoke to him, "Come on, you have a job to do."

Frowning, the man walked to the center of the room in front of Emma as the woman took a post next to the cell door. "Hello, miss, we," he motioned to his partner, "are charged with preparing you for the punishment."

Emma knew that, unfortunately, meant stripping in front of these strangers. She nodded along as he continued to speak.

"In a few minutes the punishment chair will be brought into the cell, I will be responsible for strapping you to the chair. First however I must ask you remove your clothing."

Emma decided to just be straight forward about it, "All of it?"

"Yes, miss."

She winced in disappointment at his affirmation. Deciding that he seemed nice enough to answer questions, she pressed him, "But, why? You only need my," she hesitated before gesturing at her chest.

"That's just policy, miss. I can't do anything about it."

"Can you tell me what's going to happen? I still haven't heard any details."

Looking uncomfortable he tried to put off the question, "I can explain securing you to the chair when it is brought into the cell. I don't know about the punishment. You can ask the technicians. They might answer."

"Well that wasn't any help," she thought to herself, still hesitating, trying to put off the inevitable. She needed to think of more questions.

Failing to think of anything specific, she asked, "Please, can't you tell me anything now?"

"Miss, if you don't mind, I do have a schedule," he said tapping his watch.

Emma saw his face change twitch. He must have regretted rushing her.

He tried to backtrack from his impatience, "I'm sorry I know this is difficult. This process is really as easy as we can make it." He hesitated again, weighing his words, "At this Center, we don't have to conduct a more invasive search because of the body scanner at the entrance. You can thank the tax payers for that."

"That was something," she thought to herself. Her mind flashed to recounts of horrifying cavity searches perpetrated on some people before their punishment. That seemed like a double punishment to her.

Deciding she was out of questions, she stood up in front of him, resigned to her fate. For the first time she examined the guard more closely. He had dark hair and dark eyes and he was actually taller than her, which was rare. His large biceps strained against his short-sleeved guard uniform. He was her type.

That thought made her uncomfortable, but she had read advice to cling to anything to get her through the punishment, maybe this could be her thing. "I can't be the only one to think a guard was handsome and he seems nice."

Trying to get through without thinking about her embarrassment, Emma wanted to just rush through stripping off for the guards. "Don't slow down, don't think about, trying to cover will just make you think about it. It's going to happen no matter what, just go fast."

She grabbed the bottom of her grey, college sweatshirt and pulled it over her head before tossing it on the bed behind her. Her bright pink athletic shirt was next. Its glossy, tight fabric had been pulled up to her navel by the sweatshirt. She instinctively tried to pull it back down but stopped herself. "Just keep going, Em."

She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and into her shirt, then drew the tight garment off over her head. This revealed her nude 30AA bra. It was mostly plain but had little lace details on the cups. Orange freckles covered Emma's shoulders, arms, and above her breasts but stopped before reaching her toned stomach.

Emma's hands reached for the button on her jeans before she realized she needed to take off her shoes. She sat back on the bed to unlace her rain boots. She kicked them off one by one followed by her wool socks, revealing red painted toes.

She stood back up, unhappy to have her bare feet on the hard, freezing floor. Her hands went back to her the top of her blue jeans, which she unbuttoned before pulling down the zipper. Still trying to rush, she quickly pulled them down over her narrow hips and pushed them down below her knees, presenting her panties to the room. She had selected green, high waisted boy shorts that sported lacy, white cuffs around her waist and legs. They weren't her most boring pair, but they were her most covering, which was her main concern this morning. She extricated her freckled legs from the bunched-up fabric around her ankles and deposited her jeans in the pile of her clothes growing on the bed.

Emma finally hesitated now that she was down to such little clothing. She looked at the guard standing just a couple feet away. He was looking at her with a businesslike expression, but when her eyes met his, he flashed her a little smile. "God, he really is cute. I should have worn something sexier." Deciding it definitely helped to have an attractive guard, she'd have to tell the forum.

Still, it was hard to continue. She had rushed through taking off her clothes so far but now she had lost her momentum admiring the guard and she had so little covering left. Slowly, she reached her right hand to her opposite shoulder and pulled the strap down her arm. She squeezed her left arm out from under its strap and repeated the process with the other. She held the cups against her chest for a second, preparing herself to be exposed. Taking a deep breath, she flipped the cups down toward her stomach.

She twisted the bra around her stomach so she could unclasp the bra, revealing her breasts to the guards. They were little round mounds rising perhaps an inch from her chest. Their tops were speckled like the rest of her chest. Each quickly came to a pointed, pale pink nipple that were now hard from the cold. She added her bra to the pile and looked at the guard. She raised her eyebrows at him and shrugged at him. "Nothing to it. Like what you see?" she thought to herself.

Emma would never see this man again, so she decided to just keep going with her imagined seduction of the guard. Her fantasy made it easier to get through, it felt nice to pretend she liked her audience. "Maybe I'll get to strip for Sam soon." She figured that soon she would be blindfolded, and it wouldn't matter who was watching.

She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and glanced at the guard, who still held his professional expression. She started to roll down the top edge of her panties. She noticed that his eyes shifted down. "Ready for the show?"

She continued to roll down the fabric revealing the top of her mound and slowly showing the guards her red landing strip. She looked at her short-term crush for a reaction, but his demeanor remained unchanged.

After a moment's hesitation, Emma finished removing her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. Her landing strip was the only hair down there. Her bare lips disappeared between her legs, she always kept them shaved figuring that's just what girls did now. She bent over to retrieve her underwear and tossed it onto the bed.

Now that she was completely naked for these two strangers, she felt her face begin to warm. She imagined that she must be developing a rosy glow. She pursed her lips and gave him a short smile.

"Thank you," he started, "for, um, doing that so quickly."

She wished he had just said thank you. She was trying to impress him after all.

He continued, "Shortly the punishment chair will arrive, and we will get you situated."

Emma stayed standing. Deciding she should get used to having her breasts exposed, she crossed both hands over her mound.

For the first time in a while, the nasty guard in the corner spoke up, "That chair should be hear by now. I'm going to go check on those porters." She left the cell, closing the door behind her.

Emma was surprised they allowed a man to be alone with her. It seemed like they should have safeguards about this kind of thing. The two looked at each other. She could tell he was trying not to leer at her naked body by focusing on her eyes instead. He moved toward the door away from her. She turned her body away from him to alleviate some of her embarrassment, but it did show him her pert, round butt. "Better than my boobs, I guess."

Being alone with him made her fantasy much less fun. As a few minutes ticked by in awkward silence, her anxiety rose while waiting for the "chair." She wanted to break the silence but couldn't think of anything appropriate for the situation.

Finally, he coughed to get her attention, "Miss, I actually forgot something."

Her stomach dropped. Her mind leaping to poor girls groped by evil guards, she wondered if this was when the harassment started.

"You actually aren't allowed to have your hair tied in a braid. Can you remove that for me, before my boss notices, please?"

"That could have gone much worse.". Relieved, Emma pulled the hair-tie off the end of her braid and brushed her fingers through her thick red mane to get rid of the knots. Happily, she realized she could lay her hair down her chest to cover her breasts. She turned back toward the guard with her chest and cleft covered thinking she must look like those classical depictions of beauty.

The guard had remembered just in the nick of time, soon she heard wheels approaching her cell. The woman and a new guard, an older man with a receding hairline, approached the door with a strange couch looking thing in tow.

They opened the door and pushed the contraption in to the cell. It was positioned in the center of the room so that the seat faced where Emma stood. They took turns lifting one side so their partner could remove the wheels, giving Emma time to inspect her soon-to-be perch.

The word that first came to mind was "homemade." It was wider than she had imagined, like a love seat and taller too, she wouldn't be much shorter than when she was standing when she was strapped in. It had dingy, maroon cushion like a normal couch, but there were four black cuffs sewn on that must be for her arms and legs, one each on the top corners of the couch and two roughly in the center where her legs would be. Mortified, she realized they would be tied apart from each other, her lips would be out for all to see. There was a leather belt attached to the seatback slightly to the left of its center. She guessed that it must go across her abdomen.

Nothing seemed to match, like it was all thrown together at the last minute, but, despite its cobbled together appearance, Emma found it extremely foreboding. The fun and games of stripping for the hot guard were over, she knew that her situation was about to turn torturous.

The woman and the newly arrived man moved back toward the door and the younger guard began to talk again, "Would you still like to have me explain the restraint procedure, miss?"

"No, I think I understand," Emma responded, shaking her head.

"Yes, it is very straightforward. After I strap you in, I will blindfold you. My partners and I will leave the cell before the technicians arrive. You're not allowed to see them, they're anonymity is more heavily protected than ours."

Emma knew he was referencing himself and the other guards, but she thought it could have included her too. They might not know her name, but she was hardly anonymous to the guards throughout this whole procedure. Too many people were getting to see her, they could easily recognize her on the street.

Seeing the guard motion to the chair, she climbed onto the center of the seat, careful to keep a hand between her legs as she positioned herself. She kept her knees together, though her thighs were small enough that she couldn't keep her lips completely hidden. Guessing that she would have to reposition her hair, she steeled herself with a deep breath before using her free hand to brush her long red hair behind her shoulders. She was glad the new guard was standing behind her. "Maybe he won't see my body after all," she thought optimistically.

The nice guard walked around to the front of the chair, continuing to give directions, "Put your arms out to the sides at shoulder height. I'm sure you see the cuffs."

She moved her free arm out to the edge of the chair. The guard leaned over her to wrap the band around her wrist before cinching it tightly, like a belt. Now she had to uncover her vagina. With another deep breath she uncovered her most private parts and placed her wrist near its cuff. The guard repeated the process on that side. Emma tried to watch his eyes to see if they glanced down at her. She'd never had the same insecurities about her appearance down there that she had about her chest. Her lips were smooth and even, and nothing peeked through.

To his credit, she didn't see him steal a look. Next, he took the leather belt and crossed it over her stomach, holding her to back of the chair.

Continuing his work, he kneeled in front of her, grabbing her left ankle and moving it toward its cuff. For now, Emma moved her body to keep her legs together. She knew she was about to lose that option as she felt the leather cuff close around her ankle. The guard moved to her right ankle. Gripping it, he forced it back to its place, securing her right leg to the chair. Her left leg couldn't go with it now, her legs were wide open in front of the strange man. A wave of humiliation washed over her. There was no way the man wasn't getting an eyeful from her now. Embarrassed, she felt a tingle between her legs. "Oh, stop it Em. He's cute but you're not supposed to like this."