Womens' Compliance Center

Cane quickly stole a glance at Holtz's eyes, and thought she detected a glimmer of fear. Then Cane brought her to Cell 1. That cell had its door open.

"When a cell door is open, that means it doesn't have a prisoner—yet," but I think it will be filled very soon." With that, the two young ladies continued through the corridor and up to Level 1.

As they were ending their tour on Level 1 and approaching one of the interrogation rooms. They could tell there were quite a few people in the room, though speaking with hushed voice. Inside the room was a striking beautiful young woman, average height, dark hair. But what set her apart from everyone was her muscular physique. Dressed in a dark, two piece pant suit, with black, 3 inch high-heel shoes, she had a commanding, yet reserved presence.

"Your Honor and Warden Cane, please welcome FBI Special Agent, Camille Leblanc. She's on a tour of our facility and would love to talk with you each of you individually."

"I'd love to speak with you, now, Your Honor."

"Absolutely," came the reply from Holtz.

The two stood in the interrogation room, and everyone left.

"Well, this is a very impressive place, I really didn't know what to expect before I got here," started LeBlanc.

"Yes, it really is. Though this is my first time visiting the main building, itself."

"Well, I've seen your recored as judge, and you certainly sent a lot of young women to this place. Bet you're proud of that?"

"I suppose so, but I'm just doing my job. I don't think there's a single women here who doesn't deserve to be here. We have to punish offenders, or our criminal justice system will never work."

LeBlanc take a long, deep sigh, and stood up.

"Judge Holtz, I hate to have to do this to you, but could you please stand up and take off all of your clothes."

That wasn't a question, it was an order.

"What do you mean ... you're joking, right?, came Holtz's reply.

"Unfortunately, I'm not joking. Please do as I say."

"You know I am a judge, right?"

"Yes, I do, your honor, and that's what makes this much more difficult."

With that Holtz, stood up, and began disrobing. She didn't ever have to be asked to take off her thongs and bra. LeBlanc thought that a little odd, as women almost always have to be told to. With that, Leblanc went to the door, and motioned two female officers who had been waiting outside. In they came, one hold a pair of steel shackles and handcuffs. They approached Holtz, and expertly locked her ankles and wrists. LeBlanc told the officer to bring her to her cell. The officers lead her out of the interrogation room. Cane was waiting outside. Though she knew this was coming, it really didn't hit home until she saw her lover and friend, stripped nude and in shackles. She approached her friend, put her arms around her, even apologized for her plight.

So the prisoner, two guards, Cane and Leblanc headed for the nearest staircase. Holtz really felt a punch to her gut, as they were going to Level 3. Arriving on that level, Cane directed to Cell 1. Holtz was mortified, but said nothing. The officers brought her in to her new, unshackled her ankles and wrists, and waited outside. Cane approached her again, and gave her another hug and kiss. Holtz kept her head down, in both embarrassment and humiliation. Then they left, and the officer locked her cell door.

On the way back, Cane decided to show LeBlanc her home. So over they went, ascended two stairs, can landed on the Level 1. Then she showed her the tunnel and both walked through it. They reached the door and Cane unlocked it. LeBlanc was impressed with the security. Cane offered her guest a seat on her couch, and LeBlanc obliged. Cane sat next to her, and immediately started to cry. "What is wrong, dear," asked a genuinely concerned LeBlanc. Can proceeded to tell her about the five year relationship they had and was devastated on why she could do something like running drugs—and throw all her life away. LeBlanc agreed with her, but in her years with the FBI, that type of things happens all too often. "You know, I sometimes think that deep down, some successful people, who have achieved success, don't really fell they deserve it, and so they jeopardize their lives."

"Ms. Cane, I think you could do with a great massage," said LeBlanc, who was initially taken aback, but she couldn't refused that offer.

"I have a massage table in my bedroom."

They walked over to the table, and to make it more comfortable for Cane, she began to strip herself. With both women nude, LeBlanc offered her the massage table. LeBlanc got some body oil and gentle began massaging her body. She started with her upper back and neck, shoulders, lower back, calves, and thighs. Though massage therapists usually don't massage a person's butt, this time was an exception. LeBlanc applied more oil and began working her butt. She gradually increased the pressure working on the biggest, strongest muscles in the human body.

Ms. Cane was impressed by the quality of massage. LeBlanc told her that she was a certified massage therapist before going to FBI Academy. Cane invited her to her bed, and she willing went.

"There one thing I would love to do first, is may I check out your body?"

"Of course you may," came a kinda shy response."

"Please lay on your back and relax."

She did just that, the Cane ran her hands gently through all frontal muscles, paying particular to her breasts and thighs.

"Now please lie face down."

She complied, and Cane went to work on her back, shoulders, calves, and paying most attention to her thighs and butt.

"It should be illegal for you to ever wear clothes, you look ever better without them," said Cane.

LeBlanc, liked that, and gave a shy smile. Then Cane gently took her by the hands, and walked her to her bed. Cane rested her hand on her lower back and then slowly, gentle dropped to her butt. Both ladies smiled to each other. The two naked women got under the covers.

The next morning Holtz was summoned to Cane's residence, per prison rules, nude. Both Cane and LeBlanc greeted her in the bedroom. Cane was only wearing a pair of leather knee high boots, and LeBlanc in exercise shoes only. Seater at the top of the bed, Cane motioned Holtz over. Cane propped her up on her upper back and started to gently caress her bare breasts. LeBlanc, meanwhile, went to the bottom of bed and gently spread Holtz's legs. She began a gentle massage of her private parts with her hand, and, when the time was right, proceeded to advance with her tongue and mouth. After a few minutes of overwhelming pleasure, the two dominants switched positions, the FBI agent massaging her breasts, and the warden pleasuring her with her tongue and mouth.

When all parties were satisfied, they retreated to a big couch in the bedroom. Cane started, Ms. LeBlanc and myself have been talking about you, and we've decided an offer to you:

"If you agree to live in my private residence here, cooking my meals and keeping it neat and tidy, you can stay here 24/7. That would mean no more tiny dungeon for you on Level 3. What do you say?"

"Yes, please, Heather ... oh, I mean Ma'am, I would love to serve you in any way possible."

"Great, consider it done, and starting from tonight, you will be here and always sleep in my dungeon. And another thing," she continued "you may have a visitor from time to time who wishes to meet with you in regards sending their daughters here without proper council."

Holtz swallowed hard on the one, but didn't say anything.

"In fact, Michelle Johnson's mom, will be here tomorrow to see you. By the way, she's a senator and very powerful woman." Holtz got on her knees before the two women, clasped her hands in prayer, and said:

"I'll do anything to please and serve you."

With that, the two women brought Holtz down to the dungeon, locked her into a small cage that was suspended from the ceiling by four feet. They had her spread her legs before having her put her feet out between the bars. Then they handcuffed her wrists to an overhead bar of the cage, so she couldn't pleasure herself.

"Oh, I hear Senator Johnson is quite good with a cane," said the warden, "but nothing that you can't handle, I'm sure. You'll need a good night's rest."

Then they went to the bed in the dungeon, got under the blankets, and LeBlabc spooned Cane.

"Of course you may," came a kinda shy response."

"Please lay on your back on the massage table, and relax." She did just that, the Cane ran her hands gently through all frontal muscles, paying particular to her breasts and thighs. "Now please lie face down." She complied, and Cane went to work on her back, shoulders, calves, and paying most attention to her thighs and butt. "It should be illegal for you to ever wear clothes, you look ever better without them," said Cane. LeBlanc, liked that, and gave a shy smile. Then Cane gently took her by the hands, and walked her to her bed. Cane rested her hand on her lower back and then slowly, gentle dropped to her butt. Both ladies smiled to each other. The two naked women got under the covers.

When all parties were satisfied, they retreated to a big couch in the bedroom.

"Ms. LeBlanc and myself have been talking about you, and we've decided an offer to you," Cane started, "If you agree to live in my private residence here, cooking my meals and keeping it neat and tidy, you may stay here 24/7. That would mean no more tiny dungeon on Level 3. What do you say?"

"Yes, please, Heather ... oh, I mea, ma'am, I would love to serve you in any way possible."

"Great, consider it done, and starting from tonight, you will be here and always sleep in my dungeon. And another thing," she continued "you may have a visitor from time to time who wishes to meet with you in regards to you sending their daughters here without proper council." Holtz swallowed hard on the one, but didn't say anything. "In fact, Michelle Johnson's mom, will be here tomorrow to see you. She's very adept with her cane, rumor has it. She's a senator and very powerful woman. And also a very angry woman, so she will want to take that out on you."

The very next morning the senator was working her whippy cane over Holtz's butt and thighs. Clad in only knee-high leather boots and black bikini, she was far from having a perfect body. But she was too confident for that to bother her. Although she was delivering much pain, she was so skilled that she wasn't breaking skin. The tormentor had her beg for every stroke, and in turn, thank her for each and every stroke.

"Five. Thank you, Ma'am. May I please have another." That went right up to the count of fifty strokes. When finished, the senator made a remark of the possibility of her imprisoned daughter "assisting" her the next time.