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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


An Introduction

VO Stories

Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss

I Sign A Contract


A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
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

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1


The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood




A BDSM fantasy by Peter Mann © 2011, 12

Chapter 1  - The Convict

Back in 1975, I lived in San Francisco. I was finishing up my PhD work. My serious girlfriend back then, for a short time anyway, was Sandra. She was a really beautiful girl, with night-black hair, dark eyes.

I first met her at the Art Museum, on a Fall sunday afternoon.......

I wandered around the exhibit. There were only a handful of people there. I came across an empty room, and looked in. A 17th century painting of  a dungeon scene caught my attention, and I walked in to take a closer look. That painting fascinated me. I have always been fascinated by chains and dungeons.  I find them erotic.

I was standing before this painting, totally absorbed, when I heard a voice behind me. “That's a great painting, isn't it?”. I turned around, and saw this beautiful girl, smiling at me. I had not realised anyone had come into the room. That was the first time I saw Sandra . She told me her name meant 'clever'. But she told me that much later....I am getting ahead of the story.

“You've been looking at that painting for 20 minutes!” she said.  “It is good, isn't it?”

I blushed bright red. Had I been standing there for 20 minutes? It was quite possible. I was embarrassed that I had shown such an interest in the painting. This was back in the late 70's, before the internet changed society, and it wasn't acceptable to admit interests in bondage back then. From magazines on sale in porno stores, I had guessed that many people were interested in bondage and BDSM, besides me, but it was something that was always kept hidden.  So I felt it necessary to pretend that it was the quality of the painting that interested me, not the subject. 

“Yes, the shackles are perfect. And the way the chain lies on the stone floor...that's perfect too” I replied. I thought that was a safe explanation.

“Ah, the shackles....and the chain.....yes...do you like them” she said, looking at me.

Then, after a pause, she said “I like them too”.

Another pause, then when I didn't say anything, she said “Let me show you some others like that....”

She led me to another part of the exhibit, where there were three 19th century paintings of bedlam, the old prison in London for the insane. I, of course, loved the pictures.  We discussed the small details of the painings, the bars on the windows, the heavy chains on the inmates. I gradually realised that she seemed genuinely interested in the subject of the paintings. I was so surprised by this. She was very nice looking, not what I would call pretty, but most attractive. Certainly better looking than most girls. Girls as good looking as her usually were interested in the best-looking men, and I'm pretty average looking. But it wasnt her beauty that interested me....it was mainly that she seemed to share my fascination with chains.

As we talked, I carefully started to open up to her. Eventually, I said “These paintings are totally fascinating....bondage is such a fascinating subject”.

“Oh yes....” she said “I totally agree! I love it! I think some people do enjoy chains, things like that.  Its so nice to meet someone who understands that!”

“Would you like to get some coffee? I said “I've been on my feet all afternoon, a sit-down would be nice”

“Yes” she said. “Let's do that. What's your name?”

Chapter 2  -  My Prison folder

I met Sandra again many times over the next few weeks. She told me that she was a postgraduate student in Physics. I found that hard to believe. But she also said she had a part-time job at nights.

“Its a very easy job, the place runs itself” she laughed. “I just have to be there, and do a little paperwork. I take a book, and often sleep a little. I'm the only one there at night, and the doors are all locked, so nobody can check up on me”.

“What is this job? It sounds great” I asked.

“Its something that I know will interest you” she said, giggling “I'm a prison guard”.

I was astonished. And fascinated. “Which prison?”

“Well, its not actually a real prison....its the Holding Center. Not many people know about it. Its that big grey concrete building off Newcomb square, up in the dock area. Above ground, its administration offices, but there are there are twenty eight  cells, down in the basement. Its where prisoners are held after their conviction, until they are transferred to their permanent prisons”.

“I'm the night guard. The prisoners are all locked down in their cells all night, so I have nothing to do. They are all completely secure. I just have to process the paperwork, the folders that come and go with any prisoners that have arrived or left that day. I just check that all the paperwork is correct in their folders, and put on the official stamp. I have the official Court stamp! I just stamp all the papers as 'Court Approved'. I'm so important....Not! Its a very easy job.”

“That's fascinating” I said. “Could I come and see the place one night?”

“It would be against the rules, really, but I'm the only night guard, so ok....noone would know” she said. “I'll show you one of the empy cells. In fact.....I have this great idea.....there are always empty cells, why don't you let me lock you in a cell for a few hours? I know you'd like that! And I would too! You can sleep in a real cell for a few hours while I do my paperwork.”

I had an idea.

“No....I have a better idea.....leave me in a cell......and don't tell the day guards......let them think I'm a real prisoner!  Don't tell them anything. Leave me there for one day.  Let me out when you come back the next night! That would be a real turn on, to be really locked up!” I said.

“Hmmm. Would that work?” she laughed at the idea. “Maybe it would.....I know both the morning and afternoon guards. They actually would probably go along with this! But maybe it would be more fun NOT to tell them. They will think you are a regular prisoner. You'll be locked up until I come and let you out the next night!They won't think it unusual to have one extra prisoner. The prisoners are always coming and going. Most prisoners just stay one day, or maybe two, then get transported out”.

“YES....I love it!” I really did love it. “I only wish......that it could be real......”

“Real? You would like that? You are a masochist?” she said, her eyes wide.

“Yes....I guess I am. I can't help myself....its how I'm made.....I have such a strong desire to be locked up......” I confessed. “But I can't ever manage to do that, not in real life”

'You mean.....locked up....for a long time?” she asked

I paused. I did not like to confess my secret fantasies. But I trusted her now. “Yes.....for ever” I said. “I can't help my desires....I really would like that. I wish I could do it, for real, but I can't”.

She giggled.....”I so love the thought of that...!” she said. “I guessed you were a masochist when we first met. It's ok, don't worry, its perfectly normal that some people are like that. I'm kind of the complement to you....I'm a sadist....I enjoy meeting masochists for mutually enjoyable games. I especially love having men locked up! I definitely have a sadistic streak in me! If you seriously want to, we can play together....I can arrange to get you locked up one night while I'm on duty...there are empty cells.....”

Then she frowned. “But.... what if I am in a car accident when you're in the cell....how would you get out” she asked, suddenly serious. “We have to do this responsibly and carefully”

I really wanted to play this game! But, yes, of course it had to be completely safe. I thought for a moment, then saw the answer. “That's easy.....just leave a note explaining our game and explaining that I'm not a real convict.....leave it where it won't be found for a few days, somewhere where I can tell people to look. That will ensure I can get out. But we won't need it......when you let me out, just tear it up. Noone will know.”

“Yes...that will work” she said. “But I should also make up a 'Prison folder' for you, just like a real prisoner has. Each real prisoner has a folder, which is kept at the front desk while he's here.  So if a guard checks on you while you're in the cell, the proper folder will be there. Dont worry, guards don't look inside the folders, only the Administrator does that, and I'll let you out before she gets to see it. I'll leave my note in your folder. So in an emergency, ask the Administrator to look in your folder, and she'll find my note.  She and I are good friends, and once she sees the note is from me, she'll understand, and will quietly let you out without any fuss. That way, you can always get yourself out in an emergency”

“That's just a precaution....it won't be necessary. You won't need the note. And I'll remove the note and your entire folder when I let you out, so there will be no record at all of our game. If the day guards wonder where you've gone, they will see your folder has gone and will just assume you've been transported to another prison. Prisoners are always arrriving and leaving every day”.

“But lets make this as real as possible” she continued. “Give me your social security number and birth certificate, passport, bank account numbers...and give me a photo, so I can make up a realistic-looking Prison folder for you. I'll include all the proper forms, and all the official stamps” she smiled “It will be exactly like a real Prison folder. I handle these folders every day, and I have the official stamp, so its easy for me. And if I have your personal data, I assure you noone will ever be able to tell its not real, not even if they cross-check it with the government database. Get your personal data to me before tonight.....then I can make up a Prison folder for you while I'm on duty tonight. Then...I can put you in a cell any night you wish!”

She giggled. She was so sexy!

“But....why do you need my bank account numbers?” I asked.

“Prisoners are sometimes fined by the Court, so financial data is always included in their Prison folder” she answered “If the Prison folder is to look real, I'll have to put that info in for you too. Don't worry Peter, no one is going to see it except me.”

“Very well. And thanks so much, for offering to do this for me! Can I go in a cell tomorrow night? Is that too quick? I can't wait to see what a real cell is like! I only wish it could be for more than one night!”

“I know, Peter, I understand you...very well”  said.

“About this Prison folder....what crime will you say that I've been Convicted of.....and what do you think my sentence should be, ?” I asked.

She looked me and smiled “I already do have a suitable crime in mind, for your folder, Peter. And a suitable sentence too. But let those be my surprises!”

Ok” I laughed “A surprise! that will be fun! Don't destroy the Prison folder when I get out, let me read it! I'll keep it as a souvenir!”

“Don't worry Peter, I will take good care it all. I'm a sadist, but I'm also intelligent! I've got it all planned!”  Sandra said.

To continue this story, click The Holding Centre

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