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The Convict

The Convict/My Prison Folder
The Holding Centre
My Day In The Cell
I Am Sentenced
Arrival At The California Institute
Ms Wilson
My Cell
I Start Serving My Sentence
Ms Mary Keeps Me In Order
Open Day
The Visitors

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

The Dominafuhrer

The New Recruit

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

Julia

An Introduction

VO Stories

Jenny
Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss
Programme

I Sign A Contract

Stories

65
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
Charles
George
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Kevin's Poem
Kim
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Penitence
Plimsolls
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters
Z

The Bossy Bank Women

Episode 1 - A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1

Norseland

The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood

EXIT

EXIT THIS SITE

THE CONVICT

Chapter 8 - My Cell

Ms Wilson left the room, and left Mary to release my straps. She did that, slowly.  I was still moaning and sobbing. If I could have broken free, I surely would have. But she had her short whip clipped to her belt, and besides the straps, I was still locked tightly in the handcuffs and ankle shackles that I had been put in back in the Holding Institue. So I was totally helpless, and Mary knew it. I sobbed in frustration. If I could get out of the handcuffs, I would possibly have a small chance to escape! But the cuffs were still locked tight on my wrists, and escape was impossible.

She ordered me out of the room, on my knees. I had no choice....in the handcuffs and shackles, I was Mary's helpless prisoner.... where was she taking me? To a cell? And had I heard Ms Wilson correctly....she would see me after year in the cell? A YEAR????

Mary directed me across the courtyard, and through a metal door. She allowed me to stand, whilst she took me down a flight of steps, then I was ordered back on my knees. We came to a solid steel door. There was a notice on the door....”WARNING! The convicts in this block are serving life sentences, and are classified as violent and dangerous!”. She unlocked the door, and pushed me through with her foot. We were underground now. So the cells were underground, in a locked corridor! I sobbed....that alone would make escape impossible....would I never get a chance to escape? She unlocked another barred door, and we entered a dimly lit concrete corridor. I recognised the grey steel doors lining the corridor....they were soundproof cell doors, just like the ones on the strip cells back at the Holding Institute!  

“These are our strip cells, Convict. This is where lifers are kept! They are totally soundproof!” Mary said, cheerfull, as she herded me along on my knees.

Oh No! Please No! I was desperate! I had to get free somehow! But I dared not resist. I was tightly shackled, and she had her whip ready!

So I crawled slowly and obediently along on my knees, in the cuffs and ankle shackles. We came to a cell with the door ajar.

Inside, I saw a small concrete cell. It was slightly smaller than the cell I had been in in San Francisco. Just a metal toilet and handbasin on the far wall. No bunk. Nothing else, except a heavy steel ring fixed in the wall at the far wall of the cell, alongside the steel toilet.  The steel ring was set in the wall, about 12” above the floor. A heavy chain led from the ring to a thick steel collar lying on the floor. A steel padlock lay next to the collar. The chain was about two feet long.

“In you go, Convict! Go to your ring!” she ordered.

I had no choice! Reluctantly, I crawled to the ring, facing the concrete wall above the steel ring

Mary stood behind me as I knelt. She picked up the steel collar.  She fitted it around my neck, and locked it with the heavy steel padlock.  The chain was just long enough to allow me to kneel.

“There, you're safely on your chain now! ” she said, with satisfaction.

I was still kneeling, facing the wall, but now I was chained to the cell wall, locked in the collar now.

“Keep your back straight, convict!”

“Yes, ma'am” I said, as humbly as I could.

I felt her hands on my ankle shackles. She unlocked them and threw them out into the corridor. Then my handuffs. “You don't need to wear those, now you are on your chain” Mary said.

She stepped back and looked down at me. “Now....some information before I go! Listen well! I will keep the key to your cell, and I will be responsible for your discipline and every day treatment. I provide regular reports to Ms Wilson on your behaviour. Be warned....Ms Wilson has been known to order harsh punishment for convicts who do not get good reports! And I will refer any gross disobedience to Ms Wilson, for caning. Ms Wilson visits her convicts once each year, on the anniversary of their incarcaration here, to inspect them personally. That is the only time you will see her, unless you need to be caned!”

“In a few minutes it will be seven fifteen, and your sentence will officially begin. In the remaing minutes, I will give you some information on our prison rules. First,  complaining is not allowed here! Your sentence here is not meant to be pleasurable, it is a punishment. You will serve your sentence on your chain, and naked, and no loose articles are permitted in your cell! I intend to make sure that you serve your sentence exactly as the Court ordered!”

“For security, when I leave you, I will take the key to your collar padlock up to Ms Wilson, since she is ultimately responsible that you serve your sentence as the Court ordered. She keeps all the collar keys locked in her safe! They are rarely brought out!”.

“About your cell: your cell light will be on from 6am to 6pm every day. I will check on you at random intervals, and will bring you one meal each day. I am not on duty at weekends, so you get no meals then, but another guard will walk the corridor and observe you at random intervals!”

“You will be totally obedient at all times, and always respectful to free persons! You will not speak unless you are asked a direct question, or given permission! When I enter your cell, you must be kneeling, facing your ring, your hands behind your head! I believe in strict discipline! If you do not obey me to the letter, I will not hesitate to whip you!”

“Yes............ ma'am” I said reluctantly. Inside, I wanted to strangle her!

I heard a faint click. I had heard that sound before! She was taking her whip off her belt clip!

CRACK! She gave me a stroke with her short leather whip, hard, right across the backs of my legs!

“Yes Ma'am” Mimicked Mary.  “If you speak to me in that tone again, I will whip the back of your legs raw!!! Do you understand me, Convict?”

“Yes, Ma'am, I understand!!!!” this time I spoke respectully. I was scared! I think she meant it!!!!!!

'Do you have any last question, convict? Ask now, because I don't allow my convicts to speak, once their sentences  begin!”

“Please, Ma'am” I said “May I speak privately to Ms Wilson? Just for a few minutes? I'm innocent! I need to tell her!”

Mary laughed. “The answer to your question, is 'no', convict!”

She turned. “It is now seven fifteen. So your sentence has begun! You are now under prison rules, convict! It will be better for you, if you obey them!”

I heard her walk towards the cell door. I dared not speak or turn around.

I heard the steel door swung shut. I heard the steel bolts sliding shut. Then the clang of the padlocks let fall against the steel door. Then silence. I was still kneeling. I had not been given permission to move. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to move! I could not take the chance of getting a punishment!

I knelt for what I thought was about 30 minutes. I still heard no sound. It was completely silent. It was hot in the cell, and I felt sticky and sweaty. The collar was irritating my neck. I shifted it slightly, and that helped.

At last, I decided I was free to move. I would just have to risk it! I dreaded being given another punishment! My ass was still burning from the caning! 25 strokes! Ms Wilson really gave it to me hard!  I could feel my ass was heavily wealed with parallel stripes.

The first thing I did was to feel my collar, and the padlock. I hoped Mary would have failed to lock it properly. But it was securely locked.

I turned around, still on my knees. I tried to do it quietly, but the chain jangled loudly in the quiet cell whenever I moved. If a guard was outside, she would hear me moving! The door was closed. I heard no voices. I got to my feet. The chain was just too short to let me stand upright. The chain was just long enough for me to sit on the toilet and handbasin.  I found I could lie down on the concrete floor, with my head close to the wall, and have a few inches of slack in the chain.  I lay on my stomach...I could not yet bear anything touching my burning buttocks. The floor felt warm. The chain was much to too short for me to reach the door. At the limit of my chain, my extended feet were still about four feet from the steel door. I realised that a guard could safely enter the cell....I was chained so I could not  touch anyone entering the cell. It was very frustrating, not to be able to touch the door! Even if the guards left the door unlocked, I still would be chained here, still helpless, when they came back!

I got back up on hands and knees, and looked around the cell. There was nothing in it. No soap or towel or toilet paper. Just bare walls, floor and ceiling, painted white. And the blank grey steel door, with the closed steel hatches. I noticed a small glass viewport in the door. I realised that a guard could observe me at any time, and I would not be aware of it.

Light came from a barred grille set in the ceiling.  I saw there were ventilation grilles in the ceiling. I could not reach them.

I was in a strip cell! Naked. And chained to the wall this time. Exactly as the Court had ordered!

And I had a life sentence!!!

I suddenly had the strangest feeling, that this must be a dream. But my buttocks were burning...the caning had been real.  And the collar was definitely real. This was all real!

I felt like screaming, but I forced myself not to panic. I knew if I allowed myself to panic, I'd be rolling on the concrete, naked and chained like a lunatic......I realised that noone would care! I was safely chained in a strip cell....I couldn't harm anyone.....there was nothing I could damage in this cell.........Noone would hear me yelling! And even if they did, they wouldn't let me out!

There was no escape from this cell! Ms Wilson would be having dinner now, enjoy knowing I was locked up here! I had no doubt that she would be happy to never let me out!

I was thirsty. I stood up and looked at the steel washbasin. By pressing the steel button, I was able to get a slow trickle of water into the basin. I managed to wash my face and hands, then gently patted water onto my striped buttocks. That definitely made the burning go down  slightly, but it came back again as the water evaporated.

I used the toilet to pee, drank some water, then washed myself all over, as well as I could, using water from the sink. I lay back down on the concrete cell floor, naked, feeling cleaner. I lay on my stomach. My bottom was still burning hot. I was NOT comfortable! I definitely could not take more than one or two days in this cell!

I moved my collar on my neck until it felt somewhat less uncomfortable. I found I could put my hands under my face, as a kind of pillow. I tried to sleep, but I was too uncomfortable. The bitches had intentionally left me uncomfortable!

I looked at the steel door. I could not hear anything, but maybe a guard was watching me. “You fucking bitch!” I screamed, inside my head. But I dared not say a word. She might be listening. And I knew she would be happy to find a reason to punish me.

The light went out in the cell. It must be 6pm. As my eyes grew adjusted to the dark, I realised it wasn't completely dark, there was still a very dim illumination from the ceiling grilles. Just enough for a guard to check on me through the viewport in the cell door, I realised.

I was exhausted. But I could not sleep. I lay chained naked on the concrete floor. At last, I slept.


To continue this story, click I Start Serving My Sentence


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