Agatha's prison - one day early

[Igor con Fine]

( a trapped in own contraption story - will be continued )

Agatha Who?


I thought the 34th amendment would be the end of prisons.
At least of prisons as we know. Today I know better.
Slavery became the more common alternative, but no complete replacement.
Only some examples: short time incarceration, pre-trial confinement or criminals, especially insane, no one wants as a slave.

Prisons were otherwise battered: The staff shortage was skyrocketing as there came up the wrangler jobs with their many benefits. The jailers had a comparably measly wage, regular overtime hours, bad working conditions. While the wranglers enjoyed 'slave tips and kisses' the turnkeys where always only a hair's breadth away from sexual harassment complaints.

There were always only few female correctional officers – nowadays they are scarcely found.
Different surveys came to the conclusion that male guards in female prisons made the inmates actually more obedient and, funnily, better groomed. The few left female CO's mostly fled the 'bitch fights' and are actually working in male prisons.

Today we have some nice, decent prison guards in women prisons, treating the inmates with respect. And some lecherous and cruel turnkeys that relish in their power position.

Society does not show a great interest in the well being of criminals, but there is so often that 'one case'.
This time it was the wife of an insanely rich tech mogul. What exactly happened is kept under wraps, what I know is she was incarcerated from Saturday evening until Monday early. And one of those special jailers molested the beautiful trophy multiple times within her short stay, he even did unpaid overtime.

As a reaction the well off married couple first sued the private prison company, then bought it.

She had a new goal to make her life meaningful: Improve the situation for every single female in prison. Of course with the financial backing of her husband.

So she hired Agatha and me.

Me, that is Candice Miller, 32 years old, master in artificial intelligence, nowadays a well trained fit and tall commanding warden with a - as I think sometimes: too - distinct female figure.

I once saw the overhead-railsystem of a meat processing facility. The concept kept my mind busy, and I had the vision that one day this will be used to control slaves.
With my master in hands I presented my idea some renown slave markets, but they all declined. A slave should always be led by a human, a skilled wrangler at best. 'We want to offer products of value, not off-the-shelf merchandise.'

The end of my idea. Nearly.

Until Domingo Riguero called. I dropped the phone when I read his name on the display, and nearly missed him while I fumbled with my suddenly sweaty hands to swipe the green circle.
He explained that he had someone interested in my system. Someone with enough money to make it work.
He only demanded one thing: 'When you get graded, you will do it here. When you are sold, you will be sold here. You call me, and we will train you to get the best grade possible, in no time!”


Maybe that should have been a warning. The next weeks will show how much I will regret my decision – Domingo just took my word and, even before I got the papers to sign him over exclusive rights on myself, my present day investor called.

While my idea might not be suitable for a slave market, it would be a perfect solution for a prison, especially a women's prison with male guards.


My system relies on an overhead rail system in combination with an expert AI program.
Transit areas like corridors or running tracks are equipped with 'classic' single or double rails, in areas with more 'users' we installed an inverted mesh of small triangles with the 'rails' actually the recesses between them.
The system is completely enclosed, even our one elevator has rails on the sides that let the slider glide along with the passengers, staying over the roof of the cabin.
There is only one locked room to rail in or rail out sliders for service or restocking.

We are using prisoner-collars on cable leashes that are fixed to a winch on a slider. At first sliders were propelled by the prisoner and could only brake. But with the financial background of my investor all sliders are equipped with an electric motor. The power is always provided by the rail, and if the power fails all sliders lock. The combination of hoisting the neck up and giving momentum ensures that every inmate will walk exactly as the AI plans.

The AI is capable of using a wide spread video and audio surveillance system, with image and voice recognition. It can overwatch multiple inmates at once, and discern different voices. Every collar-holder (at the end of each cable) has built in microphone and speakers, and the connection to the spine ensure that every inmate could be individually heard and spoken to.

My main duty was of course the AI programming, the available open source AI's must be heavily modified. Actually it is no REAL AI, just a very complex program that works in his set parameters. It can issue orders and mostly control their execution, it could mark maybe problematic scenes and archive them in video storage for later review. A small team of lawyers is on retainer for regular control of that video material. With the AI learning more and more, that controls get less and less frequent.
And the AI is able to control our jailers. It will constantly watch all inmates and their well being, will control if they are well fed and are always treated accordingly to our guidelines, it dishes out punishments and controls the execution, all in all it prohibits corruption wherever possible, and bans the guards from sexual assaults, or trading sexual's for favors.

An AI that I named Agatha.

We built a complete new prison complex in New Mexico, close enough to Texas and the Mexican border for geo-strategic reasons. Our high upfront investment will, hopefully, in the long run be compensated by less expenses for difficult to find employees. One of the biggest matters of expense.

We are constantly reducing our costs, just now I restructured our punishment procedure. I installed a demerit system with multiple little corrections instead of the corporal punishments – that will cease the need for our 'correction executioner' – officers. Officers specially trained for physical corrections, officers that get an explicitly higher wage than other jailers.
From next Monday on there will be no more need for any prison strap!

Only yesterday I showed an immaculate demonstration for my investors – the whole system works flawless enough for a smooth operation of the whole prison.

And it better should – I was lucky to get the 'deal of the century' with my investors, their wording. I currently own the majority of our private prison company. Prisons tend to produce solely bad PR, bad treatment of prisoners, evil guards or, worst case, an escape. So they were happy to pass the buck – and of course I personally guarantee for the success. Very personally. So, they either own nearly half of a valuable biz, or they will own someone who will make it a valuable biz. The lady even mentioned how much fun it would be to subdue myself to my own system while perfecting it. And how useful it would be to have that correction executioners at hand all around the clock, they could always ensure that my butt wouldn't get lazy while sitting in front of my computer (not after Monday...).
She was extremely detailed, she even put the actual design for my butt brandings (firm logo and prison logo) in the contract. I am sure she knew she sent some butterflies down my stomach into my nether regions, enlivened a hot, pulsating urging deep in myself. She smirked as I signed, and I felt as if there was something awakening ...

Today I am going to combine useful with pleasant – out of many reasons, but mainly … for me.



Temptation


On my desk lies a standard prisoner collar, and on my monitor flickers the form to fill it with the necessary data. My hands get sweaty, my heart races and I feel a damp spot between my legs as I begin to fill my name in.
Candice Miller.
Facility identifier (nickname) – I planned to leave the field blank, but now I am in doubt. Agatha would always call me with my full name. A wicked thought crosses my mind – and I type in that nickname I once loathed.
Candy. The green colored word 'FREE' shows: No one else wanted that name. Surprise.
Candy Miller, or later candy-grinder. 'Smells like candy' - I hated that name until they came with an even worse one. But today I am no longer the chubby, defenseless Candy, I will be inmate Candy. Prisoner Candy. Strong-minded, fit, athletic.
My heart is now thundering in my ears, as I click at a drop down menu. I scroll down to 'category red'. Serious offender. Caution advised. Strict discipline – strict corrections. Dangerous Candy!
I would not really be affected by this choice, but my nether muscles spasm as I hit the save button.
A small white field on the collar turns red.

The collar is loaded, ready to snap around the neck of a new inmate – my neck, I shudder.

I check my preparations a last time. There is the coded key for exactly my collar. A complete set of clothing. All ready on my desk, awaiting my return.

The routine for Candice Miller is prepared, full intake procedure for day release returners. No need to do the tutorial videos, I know how Agatha works.
And after completion an urgent appointment with the warden in her bureau.

A short trip to intake, and afterwards I'll be back here. Of course only if my heart does cool down, otherwise it might simply explode.

“Agatha, prepare to adjoin prisoner Candice Miller.”, I nearly hyperventilate into the vacant room.

“Warden Miller, Candice Miller will be added to the list of controlled prisoners. Connect collar and prisoner. Escort prisoner Candice Miller to intake. Prisoner Candice Miller will be registered as 'Candy'” Agatha's neutral voice explained, and I feel another heat wave storming through my loin.

“Agatha, prisoner Candice Miller can be trusted. Just lead her to intake from my office.”

“Confirmed. Prisoner Candy will be led to intake.”

Sometimes I fear I will unlearn to say thank you – as the AI does not care.

And there it is. The open collar, waiting for a neck. My neck.
I carefully run my fingers over it. The cold metal surface, the small red illuminated panel. I can feel the shock-prongs on the rubberized inside. My knickers must be soaked by now.
Slowly I lift it to my eyes. This frightened anticipation – my stomach is whirling.
I take the collar to my neck, and while I softly press it shut I feel the prongs prick in my neck. With a final click the collar locks, and I shudder.

“Prisoner Candice Miller, you are now constrained by an AI controlled collar. This collar will use electrical shocks to ensure your compliance. The strength of the shocks can vary between alarming and paralyzing. As long as you follow all given instructions in appropriate time you will not be shocked. I am looking forward to watch over you and your well being. I wish you to make the best out of your stay.
Welcome to Hekaty experimental female prison.
You can always call me with the command 'Agatha'. Abuse will be penalized.
Prisoner Candice Miller, you are to report to intake immediately. Step out of the door.” And the buzzer to my office begins to hum.

“Agatha, abort prisoner intake for prisoner Candice Miller!”, I try to order, my breath still going fast. “Prisoner Candice Miller, you will comply to the command: Prisoner Candice Miller has to report to intake immediately. You are not allowed to issue orders. Please step out of the door.”

“Agatha, administrator access, code Owlbear Tjörfreya Jax.”, I try to get admin access, but, as I hoped – no enlisted prisoner should be able to do this - Agatha just answers: “Prisoner Candice Miller, you are not allowed admin access. Further attempts will be punished stricter.” And I feel a short, but noticeable pain in my neck. The mild warning shock still stings distinctive. And I thought I would not be affected by the red setting.
But the feeling - I am a dangerous, category red inmate. Somehow it is worth it!

“Prisoner Candy, you will now step out of the door and report to intake, immediately! Non-compliance will be punished.” Agatha modulates her voice into a stricter tone.

Time to get out of my considerations, I speed to the door and use the still ringing buzzer to leave into the corridor. A strange feeling. Out of my office I am under constant video surveillance, and the collar reminds me that I am no longer the warden. Only the doors will open for me that are on my pre-planned route. As I follow Agatha's direction instructions (“Prisoner Candy turn left”) I try to open a door I walk along. Of course it does not open, but I feel a hot pain in my neck again. Agatha is watching.

Returner intake is an automated process, but if I create too much trouble Agatha will send a guard. So I hurry to arrive at intake. Normally our time windows are more than sufficient, but better safe than – in this case - the laugh of the whole prison.

It still feels so weird, sprinting down the stairs with the collar around my neck. I am glad that it is Saturday, no one around in our administrative building. I will not even be able to explain my situation if somebody crosses my way, Agatha will become really impatient if I am tardy. And at the moment she can only talk to me through the speakers on the walls, until I am 'cabled' – shudder.
“Prisoner Candy. You will now leave the stairs through the door in front of you.” Another buzzer is humming, and I am only a few steps away from intake.

I am in the middle of a waiting room, chairs along the walls, in front of the door with the writing INTAKE. My hand rests on the doorknob, the lock is again humming and I suddenly feel cold sweat in my neck, panic strikes me for a short moment. It feels like a cold hand is resting between my shoulder blades – with Agatha's strict order I feel the cold hand pushing me inside. “Prisoner Candy, you will enter through the door named intake - now.”



Intake


The first intake room, the beginning point of an almost completely automated process. The not automated orientation, interviews and tutorials will be left out as I am flagged as 'returner'.

The door locks audibly behind me, and I shudder again, no turning back, the only way out is going through.

We built the complete intake around an observation room, and I can see the one way mirror covering one wall over the full length. I stood behind that mirror so often, today I made sure that no one is watching.
This time I am on the other side of the mirror, wearing a collar with Agatha pressing me through.

Two bare, yellow feet are painted in the middle of the floor, in a white painted square. A large automated storage rack with boxes is fixed to the wall opposite of the mirror, one box gets slowly pushed out on a table. In the back stands a medical-white seat in form of a saddle, behind it a small cubicle that has two holes in front and our half circle collar-holder at the top. It connects to the collar – and already connected is one cable holder. A small army of sliders are already waiting for additional prisoners, that won't come today.
Behind the collar holder is our mouth prober, it looks like an upright mounted hoop.

Finally a double door leads deeper through the process.

“Prisoner Candy, please undress completely and put all your clothes and shoes in the big box on the table. Clear all your pockets and put everything that should not be washed into the small box. You need to be completely naked to proceed.”

I don't know why, but I just remember the complaint of the guards that the vocabulary of Agatha does not fit for some prisoners. It should be less formal. I am already working on it, maybe I should just use an individual tongue basing on the prisoners data sheet.
And then the thought is gone, and I find myself still fumbling at my trouser button. I left everything besides clothes and shoes in my office, but Agatha will still get impatient soon. I try to steel myself. I knew what was coming. It is still embarrassing.

Anyhow I already slipped out of my shoes, and as my heart is hammering again I finally arrange to open my trousers and pull them down. To get some more time I fold them neatly and put them and my shoes carefully into the box. I take a breath and pull my shirt slowly over my head, fold it and box it also. I look into the mirror, and see myself standing there in the lights of the room only in my undies, the cameras all around are attentively watching me.

“Prisoner Candy, you are too slow. Please hurry up and undress completely. Empty all your clothes and put them and your shoes in the protruded box - now. Use the small box for things that should not be washed – now. You need to be completely nude to proceed.”

It is not too warm in the room, but I am sweating. I open the clasp of my minimizer bra, and my two girls are sagging down. They are pretty heavy, and I feel them wobbling. I just throw my penultimate piece of clothing into the box.
I use two fingers of my hands to push my panties down, and I can't avert my gaze from the woman in the mirror. Her heavy breasts are swinging while she bends down. When she straightens up again she has her knickers in one hand, and feels them with her fingers.

Yes, they are really soaked.

Maybe I could even squeeze some of my fluids out if I try. I can't resist and just take a short wiff, I recognize the smell of my arousal.

“Prisoner Candy, when you are finished stand on the footprints in the middle of the room.”

I throw my panties into the box and obey – still looking at my reflection. I see myself protect my crotch with one hand, safeguarding and supporting my breasts with the other - while I hurry to the footprints that have a high friction coating. There is no hair visible beyond my neck. I tried to do a thorough shaving, but I am not sure if it will be enough for Agatha. Nevertheless I enjoyed it, lying in my bathtub. Every single pull of the razor, while fantasizing being here.
The box is pulled back with a audible latching, and gone are my clothes. On their way to laundry.

I face the mirror, and my feet are resting on their determined position as Agatha continues:

“Prisoner Candy, you will stretch your arms out left and right and hop visibly three times.”

I sigh, and obey Agatha's orders, knowing what would come. With my breasts free I only hop a little, jumping without support is very uncomfortable. And even the small hops let my two girls jiggle.

“Prisoner Candy, you need to jump higher. Please repeat, with more strength.”

I sigh again, and repeat the ordeal. This time I just accept the consequences, the strong pull at my chest. And a small part of me is happy with Agatha correcting me.

“Prisoner Candy, keep your arms stretched out, squat down and cough three times.”

I watched that part so often through this mirror, and sometimes I found it very funny, especially with a person I knew. This time I also know the one performing this degrading act, and I watch her in the same mirror, only from the other side. And the weird part of me enjoys it way more than I should. Squatting naked, stretching my crotch, and then the coughing. It feels so obscene.
I've seen women release a wind while doing this. Mostly you cannot hear but see it in their face. Oh, and there was that one earth shattering ..

“Prisoner Candy, you can lower your arms. Please stand as upright as you can and keep still. You will be weighed and measured.”

… I cover my breasts again, and while I move my hand to my crotch I remember – there is no one here, only Agatha and me.

It is a little awkward as I see myself try to follow her command, but it only takes a second.

“Prisoner Candy, you will move to the opposite side of the room from where you entered. Sit on the seat, one leg right, one leg left of the seat.”

Someone started calling it the 'inmate mounter'. And it waits for me to gallop the last distance from free woman to inmate.
When the inmate mounter is finished with someone, he looses even the limited freedom the shock-collar left. I don't need to follow Agatha's commands, I can choose to get shocked into oblivion. But after riding that saddle I'll be cabled, and Agatha can force me wherever she deems necessary.
I slowly walk to the machine, I sat on it once before, but I wore pants and it was powered off that time. Now the machine will execute his mean little program on the naked, unprotected me.

I can hear Agatha commanding, but I don't need her, I know exactly what to do. I've seen it multiple times. Everyone entering this prison as prisoner mounts this machine, and this machine mounts the inmate. To make Agatha happy I sit in the small depression of the saddle and slide forward until I hit a small bump. I have to place my aroused nether lips around that bump. I must place my feet in the small recesses at floor height, two waiting clamps lock as my legs are close enough.

A girdle lies open behind me, and I don it around my waist – I need to use a belt buckle that hangs from the 'saddle knob', fixed with a cable. When the girdle is closed it tightens automatically a little more, afterwards the cable from buckle to 'saddle knob' and cables running over both of my cheeks to the saddle back contract. I am pressed firmly onto the cold metal bump, my lower body is held captive by the “inmate mounter”.
And now Agatha demands my upper body.

I am frightened, but also thrilled by what is now coming. I dreamed of it. Multiple. Wet.

I now experience that fevered dreams, and am faster than Agatha orders. I already open my mouth wide and take the hoop in. I sink my teeth into the rubberized coat and the collar slides into its holder. My hands wander inside the two holes, I grip the handles inside.

When you watch the machine through the mirror it appears so fast. The collar gets cabled, and a thin metal sensor, like a hairband whose endings are fixed into the machine at the height of the mouth-hoop, circles the head up and down.

Agatha is speaking directly near my ear: “Don't swallow the liquid, let it flow out of your mouth. Move your tongue up and down. Don't swallow the liquid.”
And then it begins, everywhere at the same time.

My hands are suddenly under pressure and I can't get them out, there is pressure around my wrists. My mouth fills with a liquid out of the hoop, I drool, and obeying Agatha's anew reminder I wiggle my tongue. The headband runs along my head and small spheres affixed to it are running over my head, my hair bun.
The most unpleasant sensation takes place in my genital, and my anus. Two thin, slimy, metal bolts are intruding quickly but not very deep, spill a cold liquid, and retreat. A sharp pain lingers in my violated sphincter.
There is again that panic, I try to wiggle free, but I am helplessly fixed to the machine.
I want my neck free, try to pull my hands out, and when I gain back my senses, suddenly, there is nothing holding me any longer.
The buckle just clicks softly sinking down in its recess.

I jump to my feet, and then – I just stand there, liquid is dripping out of my mouth, running down between my legs, and I try to make sense of all that happened. I know what the machine does, but, wow, this was intense.

In one process Agatha used ultra sound to scan my mouth, my hair, nose, ears. My teeth get rinsed with antibacterial fluid. The metal bolts scan and spray a multi functional disinfectant into vagina and rectum. We could do the scanning non invasive, but for the spraying the inmate has to be penetrated anyway.
I had to be penetrated anyway. And my backside is still protesting against the sudden intrusion.

Hands, fingers, feet, toes – everything checked fully automatic. It does not work flawless, and the scans can be circumvented, we still do random manual searches. But mostly it suffices, and for this special scan I removed any random chance – of course!

Two new pieces of 'jewelry' are adorning my wrists.
I cross my arms and my fingers are running over the metal surface of our center wide used cuffs. They only have small holes in minimal bulges around it, but it is enough for Agatha to fix the strongest man to a prepared post with no hope of escape. They are made of flexible metal and foam rubber, I can not turn them and they flex with the movement of the wrist. Once pressed down you need an Agatha controlled removal station to free your wrists again. No trouble for the warden, impossible for the inmate.

I thought it was clever to just push the inmate through the process, no warning, no breaks. It is intense, but short timed.

A tug at my neck insistent reminds me that Agatha has arranged more for me.
This is the moment when I realize, really realize that I am now on a leash – a cable running from my collar to the roof. This is so thrilling, Agatha can now control my every step. For me it is just a little while – inmates could spent years this way.
The slider is hurrying ahead, and I need to follow.

Most of the time an inmate can roam relatively free, and Agatha will just ensure that the slider follows. But when Agatha takes the lead, even if I meet its pace, my head will be pushed down.
We had a consultant that mentioned this could have a psychological impact. You can gain a subdued feeling – lowering your head while staring at the floor in front of you. And I appreciated it.

Now I feel it myself, first I try to follow the slider, keep my eyes on it. But already after my first step my eyes go down to the ground, I droop my head, and just follow the lead.

“Open your hairs now.”, Agatha is now talking via bone conduction. Of course anyone can hear it if he is close enough, but I hear her loud and clear. No more need to be addressed with a name, the wearer knows exactly who is spoken to.

The doors to my next station are opening, and Agatha leads me.

The brink launderer – everyone coming back to prison from outside runs through this 'shower' on the brink between outside and inside. Disease control, keeping the prison healthy.

I release my hair from the bun and shake my hair. Following Agatha I stand in the center of our washroom, another white tiled room, this time with a grated floor. Even fine meshed it feels uncomfortable at my bare soles. The grates are clanking softly in their holdings as I cautious walk over. “Stop.” Agatha disrupts me, and I find myself in the center of a contraption of stainless steel pipes. Different nozzles aiming at my bare body, small yellow brand labels promising German in-depth thoroughness.

In an instant I find myself in a froth of water as my skin gets abrasively sprayed down.
“Raise your arms.” - I comply, and am happy for the sun. The water is still warm from the day before. A really cold shower needs active cooling, and that would be insanely wasteful.
So every inmate gets a short moment of relative relaxation, until the delousing begins.

“Keep your eyes closed. Work the liquid into your hair.” Agatha orders as a strong chemical smell fills the room and I am sprayed with another liquid. “Keep your eyes closed and use your fingers to work the liquid into your hair.” Agatha repeats, I am already following her command.

“Handlock position!”, experienced inmates follow Agathas order in an instant, getting their hands upside down onto their necks. The wrists get locked into our cable holder, a quick and easy method to control any prisoner. I have to fumble until I hear the small metal bolts glide into my wrist shackles. With the hands locked behind my head, my elbows pointing into the sky the small red light on my collar turns green, showing any guard that I pose only a minimal threat.

Agatha pulls me further to another station, one I hope to avoid.
“Mount the saddle in front of you.”
Another, wider stainless steel pipe carries a white saddle at the height my knees. Horn and cantle of the saddle are high, and as I am in the correct position the saddle is rising until I can reach the bothersome floor only with the tips of my toes. I tried to cheat Agatha, hoping that the entry 'already depilated' and the high resolution camera in the horn showing now traces of the hair I shaved thoroughly would fool her.
A hiss and sudden damp coolness in my crotch teaching me otherwise.
The saddle lowers again, and I am stowed away in the back of the room for my personal 'chicken dance'. I regularly had a blast watching inmates at this point, especially multiple intakes at once. They get lined up in the back of the room and wait until the necessary exposure time expires.
The depilatory liquid is highly effective, but also stings and itches. Some liquid is always creeping behind the outer labia, and the skin in between reacts especially awkward.

And now I am in the back of the room, counting seconds until I am sprayed down again. Agatha shortens the leash to limit the room every inmate needs, and so I hop from foot to foot with my hands raised to my neck, my stupid tits swinging heavily, pushing myself even further around. It does not help much against the itching, but it is all I can do. I could bite myself for just shaving, not trying epilation. Sincerely I will laugh when I watch the video footage, but at the moment it is just a humiliating, nasty feel.

After some time I raise my knees high up to my breasts, to keep my nether regions in motion. I have long lost count of seconds, and just hope the time will be over soon, when there is a sound, maybe a siren.
I cringe as Agatha suddenly booms: “Prisoner, lock down position: get down on the floor, face down, legs wide.”
“Agatha, not now”, I burst out, “just spray me down” - I still hop my awkward dance. But Agatha is not in the mood to be messed with: “Prisoner, this is a direct order: Lock down position! Down on the floor, face down, legs wide!”
“Fuck you, Agatha, not now. It is just a second to spray that shit away, please, -” that was enough and I feel a punishment shock for the first time. Hopefully the last time. I nearly loose control of my bladder and am already on my knees when the pain leaves my mind clear enough for thinking again.
I try my best to wiggle down as fast as I can, with my hands bound up a real challenge. My breasts shriek their protest through my already strained pain nerves - I squash them plopping myself ungracefully on the metal grate.
Agatha just confirms my compliance with: “Prisoner, you stay that way until further notice. You will be subdued disciplinary action for non compliance and offensive language.
Additional infringement will be punished very strictly during lock down!”

I should have been alarmed by her tone and the word prisoner. Agatha is in no mood for fooling around. My outburst was not very clever, I should be wiser. Don't argue with an AI. The disciplinary action does not pose a threat, I will be out of the collar until that is applied. But a punishment shock is really terrifying, now I finally understand the kindness of the 'mild warning' modulation.

It is just so frustrating. There must have been nearly no time left for getting sprayed down.

Now my breasts are additionally pressed into the holes of that grate, I can't even use my arms for support. The combination is too much, it is painful enough that Agatha is extending my depilatory time. There is a maximum time she would not exceed, but I don't know how long that takes. By all means too long for me. I begin to scratch my crotch on the grate, hoping the little wetness would wash some itching away, as a slider without cable is speeding through the room.
Agatha is checking the rails.
I feel utterly degraded as I continue to rub my intimate area on a drain, meekly asking:
“Agatha, please, I need to know what happens. I am so close to my office, I need to solve this situation. Emergency override my prisoner intake, Agatha.”
“Prisoner, stay that way until further notice. You have already been warned. Additional corrections have been added to your disciplinary action!”
It was still worth a try. I was not sure if the emergency override would work, but seems like I did my job too good, ensuring that an imprisoned guard or, in my case, warden has no control at all left.

It is really ridiculous, one short spray down, me donning the red jumpsuit, and back up into control.

“Prisoner, stand up.” Agatha is already winching my cable in, she knows I would struggle to get up with my hands bound. But with a little support on my bound hands I rise quickly and follow Agatha back in the middle of the launderer. I welcome the nozzles spraying me down powerfully, before Agatha commands “Spread your legs” I already placed my crotch in the front line, relieved to get my depilation washed away. I see the incised traces the grate left on my breasts – I am happy this will be over soon. The uncabled slider is coming back and I wait for the next door opening as the waterflow stops.
“Prisoner, this is a direct order. You will run fast to follow the lead!”, I am flabbergasted for a moment, until the uncabled slider speeds away, with my slider quickly following. Horrified I try to gain momentum, but my neck gets still jerked. I can feel that Agatha is leaving me some leash to catch up, but she is sporting a remarkable tempo. I am bend down very deep while trying to get the collar as wide up front as I can, my legs are just pushing my body behind Agatha's unforgiving pull. My breasts are flopping around as we pass through the dressing room – through the last double-door lock … outside.

[Greyman]

He explained that he had someone interested in my system. Someone with enough money to make it work.
He only demanded one thing: 'When you get graded, you will do it here. When you are sold, you will be sold here. You call me, and we will train you to get the best grade possible, in no time!”

Maybe that should have been a warning.

Indeed. When. Not if.

[CommodorRaptr]

Such a unique story! Love the premise and how you explain everything so well I can easily follow Candy. Looking forward to your next chapter.

[bastinadanua]

Amazing story!!! Please dont stop, love it!