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Agatha's prison - one day early (4)

Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2025 9:59 am
by Igor con Fine
The other side of the bars


Fukuda continued her lecture:
“Miss McKenzy, I am now investing my valuable time to explain you your situation – you better listen, for your own good, and comply to all orders we issue.

Your positive drug swipe test gave us justification to search that runabout graveyard you have driven right into my prison.
We found enough evidence to put you under arrest.
In coordination with the sheriffs department a deputy was present for a fully legal arrest – you still resisted. With consent of the sheriff you will be jailed in the Talbot correctional institute until you get a bail hearing.

We are currently analyzing the urine sample you gave after being shocked for compliance.
Until I think you calmed down enough you will stay as you are in this cell. You might be able to leave to a orientation cell when we can call a nurse and get a blood sample from you, if I am convinced you no longer pose a threat.

So far I have evidence for substance abuse, possession of controlled substances – I was told you are below the 14 grams limit, you will get only charged for 'personal use'.
In addition I have a surveillance video proving driving under influence.
You also resisted arrest, violently.
And, last but not least, you tried to smuggle controlled substances into prison.

As reaction to the sharp increase in drug deaths housebill 652 was repealed. The recriminalization of marijuana is now in effect for over 6 months.
Therefore you are facing up to two years of hard labor in jail for the possession alone, as this is your third offense.”

I felt sick. I saw the pure horror written in Fawns face, as she groaned around that bit in her mouth. I could not believe that this was really happening, and disagreed:
“She just paid a fine! Years ago, as we worked in Richmond Parish! I picked her up at the police station, it was only 100 dollars. No big deal!”

“Paying a fine means pleading guilty. And she got arrested twice – plead guilty twice.
The third time is a felony – today! Definitely a big deal!”

Facing Fawn again she explained:

“I am no judge, but relying on my experience I am pretty sure you won't get bail. Smuggling drugs into prison while working in a prison – you should better get used to give out a new address.
And I expect you to stay after your trial – maybe you will be really lucky and smuggling and resisting will be dismissed. 'Abuse and possession' will already give you so much time in here to plan your 'revolution'.
If you actually get convicted for smuggling ... we can book you in at 'long term'!

The judges today are no longer as lenient as they have been with young white privileged girls. Your
deep compassion for the disadvantaged will rejoice to hear that we are getting more and more of your kind into prison – with the same strict sentences.
I think they no longer see the upright and innocent white daughters they picked up from school, but the randy and dirty slave girls for sale everywhere. Slave girls they want to dominate – slave girls they want to see crawling in the dust to their feet, adoring the mighty men towering over them – slave girls they want to punish strictly to prove who is their master.
Modern slavery – the great equalizer.”

Fawn was snuffling disgruntled, and she wildly shook herself while she tried to get her plateaued tiptoe on the floor.
Saliva was flying from her face and sprinkled the vinyl floor as she glared angrily at Fukuda.

Fukuda unholstered the crop and concluded:
“Enough, you had your chance. Eric, we will try the clamp to force her cooperation.”

The crop was skillfully maneuvered between Fawns spread legs, and Fukuda began lightly slapping the defenseless labia. The straight jacket offered her an easy, unprotected target – under the slender strip of carefully groomed pubic hair.
Fawn was furious. With her mouth full of bit and saliva it was not easy to understand what she said – but it sincerely was nothing nice.
She tried to get away from the crop, but this was not Fukudas first rodeo. She skillfully kept the crop on target, saying:
“You are not going to make that easier for you, inmate.” Fawn and I froze for a moment. This word brought some reality into both of our heads we neglected until now. Inmate.

The slapping continued, and I could see Fawns body react. The already obscenely displayed crotch was now blooming, as her inner folds were swelling.
Fukuda moved with Fawns circling: “We will need to talk about rules, Miss McKenzy. Inmates will always be respectful. You signed that when you got your visitor badge! No offensive language – I will schedule plenty of time to drive that point home later!” -
Eric added: “She called me folicel-brainer.” -
“That will also be addressed! First we will do a cavity search. Then the scrap metal must be removed out of her body – I wish we could also wipe the skin clean, but unfortunately she will continue to look like an addicted criminal. And why is she still wearing the boots, Eric?”
“We had even trouble cutting her clothes down with the protected scissors. She got shocked twice until we could fit the collar and the jacket – we thought it would be easier to let her calm down first. The boots are so tight, we could not get the scissors in between leather and skin. We underestimated her, she looks skinny, but kicks like a mule. Deputy Baxter is still cooling his balls.” I think I could hear a satisfied grunt.

Fukuda stopped the slapping: “She is ready for the clamp.” She turned around, holstered the crop. In a cutout of the wall-padding were boxes with examination gloves in different sizes. She pulled two fitting out of a box and with the typical stretching sound she pulled them over her small hands.
She put one hand in the pouch I today know contains the cavity search equipment and produced a vicious looking metal clamp.
Fawn was still trying to end her rotation, as Eric stepped on the spreader bar from behind her.
Fawn shrieked protesting as her crotch was even more tortured and her circling abruptly stopped. She was now completely upright, and Fukuda was closing in eyeing her crotch, exposed, stretched and without protection, her legs wide.

I had a pretty good idea of what she planned, I could not let that happen. I grabbed her shoulder, saying: “Don't hurt her! Not necessary – she will be good!”
Fukuda turned around, and now her face showed she was really angry: “I warned you not to interfere. I will clamp her, and chances are good that after half an hour she will beg to be cavity searched. Or we will just give her more time!“
I shook my head: “Not necessary! Just give her a short moment to adjust. No need to be so brutal!”
“I don't have time to waste! She's got enough chances. And.. as far as I remember there were two persons in that – let's call it car – transporting drugs into my prison. It might be your first offense, but that still means up to 15 days. Call it your orientation!
I do not believe you knew, but that does not mean you could not be at least temporary arrested.
I can put you in the cell next to your friends. Maybe you will wear the clamp for her? Maybe that will calm you both down!
I would love to get some trustable information at how it actually feels. Some are complaining that their nether regions 'never felt the same'.
I had it checked, it has enough small indentures to keep the blood flowing, but all inmates hate it. Men and women!”

Again I rose my open hands in a protective gesture. But for Fawn I would not let myself get intimidated – and so I went closer to the hanging girl: “Just give me one short moment.” I softly touched Fawns face, her eyes wide with terror, her breath going fast – and her lips full of small saliva bubbles. “I am here. I feel with you. This could not be true, we will fix it when we have time. But now you need to be strong. Calm down. Spare you what is worse. Just breathe – we will get this done! Breathe in …. and out.”
It helped. Fawn calmed down – despite the impossible situation she was thrown into without a warning.
I turned around, and felt a little fear gripping my heart, fear what the angry Fukuda might have planned in the short time I needed to calm my friend.

She held two blue gloves against my chest: “You will do it!”
I did not understand – and just stared at her – while she explained: “You will do the cavity search! As she is not kicking and biting you. You just spared her the clamp, and you are here to learn. So I teach you. First step: Put on the gloves.”
“I can not do that – you can not expect me to – she is my friend! This is surreal enough ...”
“Okay. Then Eric will do it.” - my gaze was abruptly focusing on the row of gloves, from small to large, extra-large - Fukuda interrupted: “No, he has his own. Standard sizes are way to small. I heard hardened criminals cry for their mothers when he is doing cavity searches, especially the males.”
Fawns eyes were wide again, and I took a sharp breath as the picture of that enormous fingers coming anywhere near her crotch sunk in.

I took the gloves out of Fukudas hands, and tried to fumble my hands into them. With a last bit of resistance I asked Fukuda: “You could … “, but she quickly snapped: “I don't trust her. I will not get kicked by the stompers of the pot-crow! I will use the clamp until she begs for anything to be done to her, just to end the pain. And I will only release her when the search is finished!”

Fukuda gave Eric a sign, and said: “Let her down a little bit. You know the drill.”
And as Eric was operating the winch Fukuda took hold of Fawns face, showing her the clamp opening and closing: “Miss Miller took a risk for you. She spared you the clamp. If you are clever you will now behave in an exemplary manner. Otherwise you might even get your friend in trouble. And of course, you will get punished!” She opened the clamp a last time, and let it snap close in front of her face before she put it back into the pouch.
Fawns face was again bloodless white from fear – while she tried hard to fight it down.

Fukuda ordered: “Bend over, inmate. Get ready for your cavity search!”



Two first times



I was still trying to get my fingertips into the sticky glove-tubes as I circled around Fawn. I could not believe it, this blue covered fingers would soon explore the 'cavities' of my friend.
Fukuda pointed on Fawns cheek: “A plea of guilt right on her butt. I am again surprised how stupid addicts can be.” - Prominently sitting right in the middle of her butt cheek was a tattoo of a weed leaf. I didn't know it, she normally shunned the sunlight to keep her 'aristocratic pallor' – I never saw her in something short enough to flash her butt – or completely without clothing. It was an artistically sophisticated tattoo that fit well with her others, but currently it was not really helpful for her case.

Fukuda taunted further: “You are not even the first one, inmate. We are regularly arresting people under influence - driving directly into prison, with drugs on themselves or in their cars. Junkies.” she shrugged her shoulders.


I sensed that Fukuda hit a nerve. With her anger calmed away Fawn was breaking. I could not see her face well but I thought I saw her eyes watering. And I also had something unnerving upcoming. Of course it would not be as unpleasant for me as for Fawn.

She was obediently bending over, Eric had the winch adjusted so she could just let herself fall into the jacket. I was now standing right behind her, I saw the black band circling her head that held the bit relentless in her mouth. The straight jacket was restraining her strictly.
From her hips down there were only the two leather straps spreading her crotch. The pear-shaped female hips and butt, with her bending over, in combination with her complete defenselessness were stunning.
The straps pushed her cheeks to the sides, and offensively displayed one of her cavities that needed to be searched. The other cavity was also opening - glistening wet, swollen folds spreading slightly, awaiting my blue, gloved finger.


Then there was a really mean thought crossing my mind.

When we get new prisoners they always come with paperwork. The courts are modern enough to send us everything necessary digital first, but there is always at least some printed pages, and always a prisoner record card. In case computers are not working we have a file storage with cards for every inmate. They list all relevant data, a picture, and among other things, fields that could get stamped: Always with bold letters, always colored red.
One field gets stamped 'CONVICTED' at the court when a prisoner has been sentenced.
We stamp 'IMPRISONED' after intake, 'RELEASED' of course when the sentence ends and the prisoner is released.
If a prisoner gets a corporal punishment in addition to its sentence there is a field we stamp 'PUNISHED' after execution. Sometimes we of course do that multiple times, depending on the court ruling.

We had fun with the stamps when we saw them the first time – I spent some time in the shower to wash 'PUNISHED' from my butt – it was hilarious and I also added the stamps to the digital versions of the prisoner cards.
For example, disciplinary actions all get a 'PUNISHED' from Agatha when they are executed – in a font that looks like it has been stamped on the file.


Further Fukuda was not the first one accusing us to be some kind of luxury prison to pamper rich wrongdoers until they could be legally released. The rumor was spreading, and I feared we might get into troubles when important people no longer took us as a serious correctional institute.

A photo of her in this position – and one of her anger-contorted face some minutes ago. With the accusing tattoo on her cheek – and still wearing her black boots. First so furious and then so helplessly exposed. The angered one with a text on it looking like a stamped 'CONVICTED', the helpless 'IMPRISONED'.
And a third photo of her, kneeling in that confession box, getting the disciplinary action Fukuda already hinted – 'PUNISHED'. Printed onto a little handout I could spread to relevant decision makers, local politicians, judges, attorneys – while mentioning the convicted girl was a former employee, staff member and friend – I knew it was an evil thought and I felt guilty - but that would work wonders!

In the same font the lawyers are accustomed to:
'CONVICTED' I'MPRISONED' 'PUNISHED'.


Convicted - I could not believe it at that time, maybe she really would get convicted.
Two years in this prison, under Fukuda – she sincerely would try to escape through enslavement.
I knew I would!

And again the evil thought – that handout would sincerely let the bids for that convicted ass explode.

I shook my head. It was one thing to imagine that nice little butt on a handout and an auction block, quite another to penetrate it with my gloved finger in reality. Fawn was already shaking - I could sense her fear. That made me even more aware that this was not just any cavity – this was the cavity of a friend.
I became nervous myself, I had the feeling that for the sake of us both I needed to get over with this quickly.

I knelt down behind her, put my left hand directly on the weed leaf – slowly I brought my right index finger to her wet slit. Lubrication, I thought. If I was in her position – lubrication.
I let my finger softly run around her opening, coating the glove with her fluids. Fawn shuddered, and I think I saw her face blushing.
Her folds were definitely 'blushing', her inner pink unfolded even more directly before my eyes.
My finger was glistening from her reactions – I entered, slowly but in one continuous powerful push.

Fawn groaned with shame. I felt how slippery she was as I glided through her heated canal. As I passed her inner folds I felt how open she was, how hollow, I quickly pulled my finger out. Done, I thought, and steeled myself for her .. other cavity.

Fukuda laughed: “Right on target! Nearly as I did it my first time. Sorry, but completely pointless.
You should have waited for instructions, this is not about speed but thoroughness. We must make sure she has not hidden anything in her!
First of all, we do not begin with her backside. Stand up, Miss Miller.”
I stood up, turned to her and got into position to protest, she quickly stifled that: “Either you do it right, or Eric will do it thoroughly. Your choice, Miss Miller.”

Fawn made a panicked noise - I instantly gave in, sighing: “I will do it! Just tell me how, - “ I suppressed my anger - “please.”
Fukuda was guiding me: “Begin at her head. You need to comb through her hair with your fingers, pat down her skull. Sometimes there are things glued to the scalp or even hidden in the hair – drugs get woven into braids, so either they or we need to open them. Dread locks are really difficult – if we suspect someone is smuggling we can cut a lock and examine it, mostly it is enough to grind the hair between your fingers. If we find cocaine 'snowing' down, for example, we will shave her head.”
Fawn was taking a sharp breath. I was already running my fingers over her head, and Fukuda said: “Oh sweet, of course she is a little vain. Even if she now has so much greater problems than her hairstyle. Don't worry, inmate, we only shave the head if absolutely necessary. Bad for the margin should you choose to enslave yourself to get out of here. Your owner should decide whether you get a slave-shave.”

I finished the head - Fukuda handed me a small flashlight commanding: “Hold it only with your left hand! I don't want her slime on it! Check her ears, and her nostrils.” The slimy hand was of course only for her hair, face and body. I could only show Fawn an excusing expression.
Holding her head I took a quick look into cavities I had not thought about. Fawn proved very cooperative – I was sure she preferred me over Eric. Of course I did not find anything - the flashlight was taken from my hand and replaced by a mouth spreader.

I stared at it. I had already seen it once, an executioner working at Hekaty, our prison, was once bragging about his power and showed it to me. He was of course always talking to my tits, and asked them laughing if I want to try it.
The one special sleazy executioner I feared would enter my cell instead of officer Walker just today.

This was the first time I actually had one in my hand. The cold steel looked archaic, a mean little contraption consisting of many steel arcs. I wanted to twiddle with it, but Fukuda quickly held my right arm: “Don't touch the ratchet with the dirty hand.
You need to keep that in mind, try to mess with her body fluids with one hand only. The other hand stays unstained by her, and you can for example take something out of a pouch without smearing her greasy gunk on it.”

Fawn tried to gargle a careful protest around the spittle-filled bit in her mouth. Fukuda cut it short with a soft slap on the weed leaf, addressing me: “The spreader is operated like a scissor. Open it wide enough to maneuver it into her mouth – over and under the bit. Pay attention to the bit-securing cable. When you have the spreader on the pain sensitive mucosa near her jaws you can force her mouth open, remove the bit and check the cavity. Make sure the spreader is opened wide enough, so she can not push it out with her tongue. She needs to feel a little pain or you risk to feel extreme pain. The most dangerous cavity, yours would not be the first finger bitten off.”

It was not very complicated to follow Fukudas instructions. Operating the tool was easy, operating Fawn was mentally draining. Her eyes searched mine, and I saw the mixture of shame, outright terror and a little guilt written into them. With the sound of the ratchet her face begged me for mercy she knew I was unable to give – to spare her from a really painful experience.
I opened the buckle of the band circling her head, as I took the bit out of her mouth, accompanied by a gargled moan, she sprinkled me with her saliva as a huge amount was running out of her wide open mouth. She was even unable to spit it out, it just ran down her chin and drooped slowly to the floor. Another shameful moment that reddened her face and wettened her eyes.

“Always stay on the side of a prisoner. And bend down to remove a gag, mostly you would only get drool on your shoes, sometimes on your trouser.”
“I don't care.” I answered Fukuda.
“You should. Do it right! Addicts often carry numerous diseases like hepatitis, tuberculosis or HIV.”
I shook my head, I was not planing to ever do a cavity search again. I moved the index finger of my 'dirty' hand to Fawns face, gazing at Fukuda for approval.
“Stop!”, she said, pulled and wiggled at the mouth spreader. With a ringing unnerving sound as the steel hit the teeth she was able to pull it out, just behind Fawns lips. I could clearly see that she would have been able to pull it out completely, but she pushed it back, forcing a shriek out of Fawn.
“You don't help her if you try to spare her. Do it right or I promise I will show both of you how wide a mouth can be spread if you REALLY want!”
I gave in, and with an excusing gesture I let the ratchet sound again – until I was sure it would be impossible to push it out. Fawns pain-stricken grunts assured that – and Fukuda let me proceed.

Fawn contorted her face as my finger, coated with her juices, checked her tongue.
“Always use two fingers! If there is something in her mouth you can feel it by pushing it onto the other finger. Remind that for every cavity. You always use two fingers! Otherwise you would miss many contraband.”
I drove my fingers around her mouth, and at last I was ordered to squeeze the tongue between them. Fawn was gargling, coughing and spitting. But she did not protest.
She just looked crestfallen and beaten.
Her whole mouth must have been flooded by her taste, I spread the fluids still covering my glove everywhere.

Fukuda rated: “Good. But we will do it again.” - Fawn sighed, and Fukuda slapped her softly again: “Stick your tongue out, prisoner! And leave it outside!”, she gestured me to repeat: “Inmates can use the tongue to push contraband from one cheek into the other. They can't if they stick their tongues out. We can use a clamp to keep it outside of her mouth, but with enough strength it can be pulled out of the clamp. At least you instantly know she misbehaved.
Sticking out the tongue is optional, but you may use it if you are not sure if you missed something.
Some officers do it always.
I know an executioner that gives all his inmates one chance to keep the tongue out, if they mess up he is using pliers to pull the tongue out, and fixes it outside with a long needle.
An absolute tamper-proof method, but I don't like needles in my addicts – bears so many risks, wound infection, you can get pricked by the blood-stained disease-carrying needle, and they already have an unhealthy relation to them ....”

I shuddered. Fawn whimpered and stuck her tongue out as far as she could.

“I show you how it is done.” Fukuda said, and stood on Fawns other side.
She grabbed Fawns stuck out tongue and pulled at it, turned it up and inspected it while Fawn again whimpered. She laid her index and middle finger on the tongue and drove deeply in Fawns throat, until Fawn retched and couched. Extracting another amount of slime Fukuda pulled the tongue out of her mouth that Fawn had instinctively pulled back.
“Keep the tongue outside, inmate.” - she ordered, then she explained me: “Most dangerous moment, make sure the spreader is correctly placed. Some prisoners instinctively bite down when you go that far, but it is the best method to make sure there is nothing hid at the back of her mouth. It is okay if she pulls the tongue back for a short moment, keep your fingers deep on the root of her tongue to make sure she can not shove something back unnoticed.”
She used her fingers to probe the oral cavity thoroughly, Fawns cheeks were bulging, then she was again whimpering as the roof of her mouth was checked. Her tongue was pushed up as Fukuda pressed her fingers under it, and as she pulled out of Fawns mouth she was circling them through the drool dripping down from her chin.
She showed me the slimy, glistening gloved fingers and mentioned:
“Ready for the next cavity. Your turn!” - she watched me closely as I also stuck my fingers deep into Fawns throat, she coughed again, but there was less whimpering. It seemed she was already adapting. This time she even managed to keep her tongue stuck out during the coughing. I sensed her bulging cheeks, how her mouth watered. I even felt her breath as she was panting.
I felt her hard teeth, the soft valleys with the steel arcs - between cheek and jaw.
As I finally checked roof and ground of her mouth Fukuda said:
“Good.
Normally we check the breasts before checking the mouth, with the jacket that is not possible. Sometimes you find contraband taped under a breast, hidden in the skin fold. Not very likely regarding Miss McKenzys bust size, anyway.”

Pulling out my fingers I reached for the mouth spreader with the 'undirty' hand, Fawn pulled back her tongue. Fukuda quickly held my wrist: “The spreader stays until we are finished. Use it to lubricate your fingers if needed. Further it keeps the inmate motivated to cooperate, to get it removed as quick as possible. And it makes it even harder to keep something hidden in her mouth, in case you missed it.”

Fawn let out a sigh, and I was very unhappy that I could not release her from the at least mildly painful contraption. With no other option I concentrated on her backside. Fukuda already stood near her 'un-leafed' cheek and explained:
“Don't kneel behind her as you have done. If she is kicking out she can seriously hurt you. As with the mouth, always stay at the side. You can not look as good into her openings, but it is way safer.
You can lean on her cheek with the clean hand and bend over. Use the dirty hand to spread her labia, feeling and viewing. After that you can enter – the slapping luckily made her wet enough. Seems to be a real turn on for her.” She laughed. Fawn gargled, again in a very very careful protest. Fukuda calmed: “Don't feel ashamed. Normal physical reaction many women have when getting slapped on that spot. Swells and wets.”

I bent over and inspected Fawns behind. Of course nothing was hidden there, but I still moved her folds with my glistening fingers. Looking up from Fawns crotch I waited for a nod from Fukuda – with her signal I drove in the cavity, this time with two fingers. As the rest of my hand hit her crotch I began rotating my fingers, thoroughly exploring Fawns vagina. “Try to find the hard part – her cervix. Sometimes they hide something there. Go as deep as you can – sometimes we miss something when it is pushed in deep enough, so minimize the risk!”

I was again feeling Fawns heat, with the turning of my fingers there was a quiet, smacking sound. Fawn herself was whimpering again, interrupted by soft moans. Of shame, not arousal, as far as I could tell.
Feeling up her slippery innermost with my gloved fingertips I sensed the soft, but slightly coarse inner skin – until I found the round, harder cervix.
Fukuda explained: “There is another trick if you want to ensure you checked everything. Keep your fingers in.” She ordered Fawn: “Inmate, cough. At least three times!”
Fawn took a deep breath, I thought I could feel it down her whole body. Her degradation was palpable, as she sighed – and coughed.
There was a spasm through her vagina. I turned my fingers while Fawn repeated her coughing, and now I was absolutely sure it would have been impossible for her to hide anything.
Fukuda smiled triumphantly, while Fawn sagged even deeper into the jacket.

I slowly took my fingers out of Fawn, and again heard a faint smacking sound.
“One cavity left,” Fukuda said, “are your fingers slippery enough? Or do you need to get some drool from her mouth? You should be sure before you enter that opening, would be gross to harvest saliva after that!”
“Can't we just use some lube? Is there no lube available here?” I requested.

“Of course we have lube, for some really dry inmates. In the storage next to the confession boxes. Far away enough to think carefully if you really need it. Massively reduced consumption.
I am sure Eric won't need lube, just a little more force.”

Fawn was panting quickly, and hopped from one spreaded foot on the other in panic.
I put my clean hand calming on her lower back, directly between the two leather straps spreading her crotch. I would try anything to prevent 'Eric with force'.

I asked myself again how I would have wished to get that search executed: As wet as possible. So I pushed both fingers back between her glistening folds. I moved it around, until I was absolutely sure the gloves were thoroughly coated with her juices. Fawn reacted with moving her hips, still panting. The shame quenched the panic, somehow.

“Miss McKenzy, it hurts way less if you push instead of clench. You can try to breath the dilating feeling away, sometimes coughing helps against the pain.
Many junkies in here already offered anal sex in exchange for drugs – or when they were high, as part of the 'fun'. If you are one of the well versed the search won't bother you. If not, try to relax your sphincters!”

Fukuda again turned to me: “This one is not too complicated. Push two fingers in, swirl around to explore her. Then stick them in as deep as possible and let the prisoner cough.
Just try to keep your wrist upwards, don't rotate your arm. If possible, always pull her anus up a little with the fingers inside while you push her butt down with the other hand. Sometimes the inmates have a little 'accident', especially when coughing. That way it passes under your fingers, and does not hit your arm.”

I gulped. I pulled the two wet fingers out of her and aimed them at her anus.
“Miss Miller, you can spread her cheeks, makes it easier for her. Just try to keep the clean hand clean. You are lucky, Miss McKenzy has a better personal hygiene than other inmates.”
I did what she suggested, softly spreading Fawns cheeks with the clean hand even further than the straps, touching her sphincter with the lubricated fingers of my other hand.
“You may enter with one finger first. Just pass her first sphincter, stay a moment, then the second one. Gives her a chance to adjust. Her resistance can show you how experienced her butt is.”
I buckled my middle finger and entered the puckered hole only with my index. Fawn clenched, and I could feel the muscle ring pressing down at my finger. It felt weird, blood dammed up in my finger tip. My nail was exposed as the skin surrounding it was compressed. As Fawn relaxed her muscle I passed the second sphincter, and there was no more resistance. My finger slid in her, there was nothing, only a warm cavity.
I expected it to be filled with something feculent.
Fawn sniveled quietly, but it did not sound painful.
“Seems like she is some kind of used to it. Don't waste to much time, just give her the second finger.”

I pulled my finger back a little bit until I was able to push my other finger through her hole. It was easier, and I quickly entered her completely. I did as told, held my wrist upwards – along her cleft. Pushed Fawn's backside dawn with one hand, while my fingers were like a hook pulling her now only softly clenching hole upwards.
I whispered: “Please cough now, Fawn.”
While Fawn did a whiny cough Fukuda again grabbed my arm, blocking my fingers inside the butt, saying: “No, don't do that. She is not your friend at the moment. Just a prisoner that needs to be searched. Imagine you got searched by your friend. Wouldn't you prefer a neutral, professional: 'Cough, inmate!'
No 'please', she is not doing you a favor, she has to follow an order.
And only call her inmate or prisoner, maybe Miss McKenzy – but not in this situation.
Reminds her where she is and what she is. And your friendship does not get in the way!”

“Cough, inmate!”, I ordered. And maybe Fawn already calmed, or Fukuda was right – her whimpering ended and she did a simple, clear cough.
I felt her intestines spasm around my fingers.
I pulled out as Fukuda removed her hand from my wrist. She asked:
“Cavity search completed without any findings?” - I nodded, and she asked Fawn:
“Good. Finished. Was it your first time, too, inmate?”, Fawn also nodded.
“You sincerely will get used to it during your stay! 'Freshmates' often have problems with anal searches – it gets easier, you will be subjected to it often.
Maybe you will eventually have the honor of Eric exploring your cavities. I will be able to push my whole hand in after, as I can into many of our long term prisoners. Or should I say 'our OTHER long term prisoners'.”
Again she hit a nerve, Fawn restarted her whimpering.

Fukuda winked me back to Fawns head: “You can release her from the mouth spreader. We don't have water here to clean it, so it does not matter which hand you use.
Else you should use the dirty hand, you see the scissor part is also slimed by her spittle.
First put the bit back in! Don't risk to get bitten!” She interrupted me as I was up to remove the spreader.
I sighed as I put the bit back into Fawns mouth, looking in her sad face – her eye make up smeared with tears. I locked the buckle, at least I could remove the painful spreader afterwards.

“Remove your glove while holding the spreader, that way you can pull the glove over it. You can pull your other glove over the other side – until you can clean it later.

Eric, I will book Miss McKenzy into our system.
I am sure she calmed down enough to remove her boots herself. Complete her personal data, and do her mugshots. You can leave the scrap in her, I will deal with that and the lice strip later.
She seems no longer in drug induced agitation, you can use the shock collar to enforce compliance.

Miss McKenzy, you are lucky to have someone here interceding for you. I will release you from calm down if you behave properly.
Otherwise you will be back here until you get a bail hearing, and maybe you go back here even after! Any misbehavior will also be punished by electric shocks instantly.”

“She will behave!” I said, “She is not an addict – there is no drug induced agitation. There is no reason to keep her here.”

Fukuda looked at me, and said smiling: “Not an addict? I show you something.” she pulled out the clamp again, and held it directly in front of Fawns face.
“You see that, Miss McKenzy? The 'feared' clamp. Let's try to find something out.
I have so many new inmates that are smoking, nearly all addicts do when they arrive. She has still some cigarettes left, Eric?” - he nodded - “I will offer you a deal, something I offer many new inmates. You will be allowed to smoke a cigarette. But you will be constrained, and you will wear that vicious little clamp at your very special spot! We have a nice little smoking area for this special deal, you will be able to kneel down, and Eric or whoever has time to spare for you will stick a cigarette into some make-shift holder we have there.

You will kneel there only wearing the jacket or cuffs and chains, with the clamp painfully torturing you, sucking on a cigarette. But it will be maybe the last wonderful cigarette for years – a cigarette you would of course deeply enjoy.
And I assure you, many of the inmates watching will envy you for it.
Many of them were also kneeling in the very same position when they had the chance. They all were to weak to withstand the temptation.” - she looked at me -
“Yes, Miss Miller, let's find out how much addict is in your friend. Will she forgo her last cigarette for two years only to prove you a point, or will she just give in to her desire, the last time she can?
I don't know, I have seen both.

Eric, despite Miss McKenzys outbreak during arrest we will give her another chance. Miss Miller is firmly convinced she will be a model inmate from now on.
If she behaves properly, follows her orders instantly and treats the staff respectfully and polite we will also treat her with respect.
I schedule her for a disciplinary action and she gets the smoke-clamped deal, other than that treat her well. Think of her as an ex-employee I like.
If she misbehaves again she gets full 'trouble-maker'-treatment!

I grant you that chance, Miss McKenzy.
Use it well or you'll have a very long and very unpleasant time in my 'press-the-poor-for-profit-slammer'!”

Re: Agatha's prison - one day early (4)

Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2025 10:02 am
by Igor con Fine
Free spirit



I still had not fully grasped what was actually happening as Fukuda grabbed my elbow and pushed me softly out of the cell with my hanging friend.
I held the mouth spreader, contained in the two sweat-wet gloves, between my fingers – feeling the metal that painfully stretched Fawns jaws.

“Will be easier for both of you if you leave her now.
I take you to the parking lot and you can continue to be mad at me.”, Fukuda said while unlocking another door - we had already passed further down the corridor until we reached the end, opposing the door we entered.

The key was turned two times, and there was that ever present unlocking sound accompanying us wherever we went inside this prison. She leaned back as she pulled at the handle, the heavy doors at building entrances needed some momentum to move.
The same routine actions Fukuda carried out the whole time felt now completely different for me. I did no longer pass through – I left someone behind!
I was preparing my protest – my head was buzzing with everything I wanted to throw in the smiling Japanese face as a light wind of fresh air smashed into my face. A soft push later I stood outside, between the building door and a fence that contained a gate. On the other side of the fence was the building we entered this nightmarish prison through.

“This is not over!”, I began, pretty lame – when I recall it today.

“Of course not. This is just the beginning.”, Fukuda said sternly, as she locked the door – and began unlocking the gate.

“You are messing with a multi-million-dollar project. There will be consequences. There will be lawyers. We will get her out here!”

“That is her right. You are welcome to try everything you can to get her out. Not my business!
And it is not ME, messing with your overpriced little project, it is HER. I did not violate the law, SHE did. This is her consequence! I am only doing my job, assisting in enforcing the law!”

“You could have warned us, you could have sent her away – you could just have closed your eyes only for a short moment. You trapped her!”

“Maybe you will need some time – I understand that. We often have family and friends here, they all need time. She is under arrest, and in jail now. Whatever will happen to her is decided by the authorities, I only keep her safe in here. No longer my decision!
You are welcome to visit her, or this prison, or even me whenever you are ready, you can sincerely borrow her car to get out now, to gain some distance.
We searched it exhaustive, no more drugs inside.
We even found some old marijuana cigarettes in her glove box, everyone driving that car could have got into trouble!”

I had never thought about that. I gulped, and Fukuda passed the fence gate. She mustered me, holding the gate open.
I straightened up, and towering over the small 'girl' I finally said:
“I am not leaving without her!”

She needed to tilt her head back to look up in my eyes, but holding the gate with one hand, the bunch of keys in the other she still smiled superior:
“Not a problem, we are well equipped for longer stays. But I would recommend to do 'not leaving' at another place. This is a forbidden area. Staying here without someone in a uniform near might earn you a rubber round from the watch tower over there.”

I nearly jumped through the fence gate while she nodded in direction of the high tower – the top was all around glazed with mirror glass, impossible to see if someone was inside. The surface reflecting the sun was blinding, but there were frames for open-able windows.
It provided a good view of the whole complex, and the surrounding 'death zones' between the fences and beyond. The small area I stood in was close and in direct sight. Exposed as a sitting duck. Easy prey if someone was watching in the tower.
Even if it was quite possible there was nobody my heart paced quickly, blood swooshed through my ears – maybe just because of another mind game the small Japanese woman played.

She mustered me as my adrenaline rush faded away, then she sighed:
“Not the best idea to do a 'standing around protest action' in the middle of a prison. If you don't want to leave you may accompany me while adapting to the situation. I will keep you out of trouble.
Staying here will neither improve her nor your situation!”
She locked the fence gate.

There was still that rumoring anger cruising through my chest, I was glaring daggers at her:
“I need a phone! I will call whoever necessary to end this ploy!”

She just walked away, and used a small red RFID-key at the reader built into the wall to unlock the door to the 'entrance' building.
“Then you really better accompany me. On the other side of that fence you need a pin code to use a phone – and I doubt you'll find an inmate willing to pay for you!”

She again used force to open the heavy door, but this time she just went through. I needed to hurry to catch the rim before the opening shut close. Fukuda was already walking quickly down the corridor, and I was nearly running to catch up.

She was unlocking another electronic door lock as I arrived, and without paying me attention she entered a small office with a desk, chair, monitor and keyboard and behind it a complete wall filled with filing cabinets on the left hand side. Opposing were three cheap seats, and another filing cabinet with a printer and a simple pad coffee machine on top of it.
“Have a seat!”, Fukuda ordered while pointing to the cheap seats on the right. She went around the desk and pressed a key on the keyboard. I still had the doorknob in my hand as I watched her sitting down.

“I want to make some calls!”, I insisted.
Fukuda smiled and shoved a corded phone with multiple buttons in my direction.
“Help yourself.”, she said, “But currently you can not do much for your friend. Until she is declared sober there will be no hearing, and no lawyer will visit her.”

I sat down on the cheap seat, and took the clunky phone in my hand. As I picked up the handset I stared at the keypad. I wanted to call someone, someone who will end this nightmare. Someone who will solve this whole situation in a blink.
But even if that 'someone' did exist, I had no clue what number I should punch in the phone.
Helpless I sat there, holding the phone in my hands, doing nothing.
Until Fukuda said: “Got what you wanted but not what you need?”

I smashed the tooting receiver back on its station: “Seems so. Doesn't matter, sooner or later I'll find a lawyer for her. I mean, it is only weed – not like she was doing some serious crime. This will be sorted out quickly!”

“Only weed?” - Fukuda snapped - “There are countless inmates that started with 'only weed'.

But even if she never tries something 'more serious' she already paid some shady supplier to get 'only weed'. She pumped money into drug business – she and her 'only weed'-friends are financing the work of drug cartels.
They are supporting criminals. Like you, they don't treat the 'only weed'-guy as a serious offender. Just some nice guy selling some weed. Some are willing to hide him from law enforcement, sometimes they even give false testimony to protect him – without knowing if he is selling more than just 'only-weed'. At least the criminals behind the 'nice guy' do! The incomprehensible sympathy for him opposes the best chance of the investigators: Catch the 'nice guy' to catch the men behind!

You urgently need to work on your point of view!
We do not pass laws, we do not impose penalties for violations – and in no case we determine which laws will be obeyed and which can be ignored. We just do the punishment part!
In her file are at least two warnings, maybe she got more in other states. The prosecutor will check her records. Anyway, she is a repeated offender!
We will lock her away until she gets a bail hearing, depending on the outcome also until she gets trialed, and if she gets convicted until her time is done.
I will gladly give you the numbers of some very good lawyers I know, but you don't need to hurry! Every legal matter takes time, she won't get her hearing until tomorrow, pretty sure it will take some more time. And if she is incarcerated until her trial it will take months.
You need to get the anger out of your system, stop trying to solve the situation with stubborness and start to work on possible solutions!

Come over here, I'll show you some facts!” - she ended, pointing on her monitor.

I threw the phone back on the table, pure luck the handset did fall back in its indentation. As I went around the desk I could get a good view of the screen-contents.

It was the same overlay we used for our prisoner data sheets.
Fukuda was merging Fawns data from her civil record, the arrest and the prior convictions.
She already had opened a window to cross-check with slave registry.

“Your friend already got a booking number.” Fukuda began - “Now I put her data in. Book her in for her stay, how long it may be. It does not matter if I want to or not.
The only thing I could do is messing up the bureaucratic act, 'misplace' her for example. That would only put me in trouble too, and worsen her situation.
Maybe you accept what is happening when you have her printed card in your hands.

Her first name is Rosaleen .. actually ...”

“She prefers Fawn!” I insisted.

“File me a complaint. Rosaleen it is.” she hacked the name into the keyboard, with a two eagle search system that drove a shiver down my spine. She was living proof that not all Japanese were into tech. Luckily most fields were already filled with data, she only needed to put in some letters with her archaic typing. She used so much force I thought some letters got embossed into the desk.

A beep told her that the slave registration data finally arrived at the old desktop computer. Prison management has limited access, as long as we provide a SIN we can read all data available. We are obliged to send them every information that might interfere with a slave grading, especially felonies. Drug abuse can also worsen a grading – sometimes up to the point when it jeopardizes to provide sufficient collateral for the loan – resulting in foreclosure. The banks act quickly – not long ago we had a student girl in custody coming down from an MDMA-trip. She paid a small fine and we released her – directly into the arms of two burly repossession agents waiting in the parking lot. After a naked night in a holding cell she wore clothing for barely 20 steps.

I shuddered as Fawns pictures were coming up. They were quite up-to-date as she had recently refinanced her student loan, and the lower interest rate was only possible with a renewed grading. She told me what she experienced to calm my nervousness, regarding my own forthcoming grading.
This pictures were not helpful.
She was photographed in various poses, more and more obscene. Sitting on the floor with spread legs while pulling on her nipple piercings or presenting her backside in doggy position with both openings on full display - always smiling lascivious.
On one she stuck her tongue out mimicking holding something unmistakable in one hand directly before her wide opened mouth while using the other hand to spread her pierced folds, giving an in-depth view.

The images allowed to inspect every single one of the numerous tattoos and piercings adorning her body – and every single cavity we just searched. I could even see the glistening of her juices between her legs.
She mentioned she was trying to get as 'slave-hot' as possible to get a good grade – and a low interest rate. I lost myself in porny-Fawns pictures, until Fukuda chuckled:
“That's perfect. I was not sure, thought about pot-crow. Or leaving it blank. This is so much better!”

She clicked the 'official nickname' field, and with her archaic method she typed the words of Fawns belly tattoo in the machine: 'FREE SPIRIT'

I was upset: “That is mean! Maybe you were honest with 'I cannot do anything for her' – but you sincerely don't need to be that evil. It is not even a good one, pretty long winded.”

She turned to me and smiled: “Prison is not meant to be a nice place. She will be punished here! And they will sincerely come up with a solution for the long winded part. They always do. You can just file another complaint, if you want. I will put it on the pile!”

“You are incarcerating my friend and colleague, and your main concern are some complaints?”

“It is not some complaints. I need to manage this institution, take care of prisoners and staff, solve numerous problems as, for example, the increasing drug smuggling. I have more then enough to do, without the lawyers interfering. I get dozens of complaints daily, and they all carry a deadline, they all need to be done by the warden. Maybe I could ignore some of them, but with a green card it is safer to be careful. So complaints are the main reason for countless overtime hours I spent here – in prison. With work I won't even impose on inmates!”

Now I felt I had the upper hand. I smiled widely back at her: “We don't need to care about complaints!”

Fukuda shook her head in disbelief: “So everyone in your luxury-prison is happy? Or is that Kovacek guy just foolhardy enough to ignore lawyers, advocates and assigned counsel? Even complaints of staff members?”

“The AI is processing them. In the beginning she needed much help to find solutions, but today Agatha learned enough to take care of most of them without consultation of a human.”

Fukuda stared at me in awe, her mouth slightly opened by surprise.
I was happy to finally have some ground I felt safe on, and continued:
“She is also dealing with smuggling problems. An AI can handle big data – and draw conclusions from it.
She is able to follow every single inmate and every single guard.
She can record every interaction between inmates and inmates, inmates and guards or even guards and guards, and she can evaluate them, how intense or how long the interaction has been.
She can compare the behavior of everyone, and mark behavior that deviates notably from the norm.
That is already enough to raise or lower suspicions. She can combine this with information of every letter the inmate received, every phone call he made, every visitation he got.
Sometimes they use code words, or special gestures. Give Agatha enough time and she'll decrypt anything an inmate can think up.
With modern image analysis and voice recognition our inmates are under continuous surveillance.
You would be stunned how much she can conclude out of really basic data, just position monitoring. But with all the data sources we can offer and given enough processing power and memory space she can act almost godlike. Agatha is now operating mere days, and she is already able to predict when and where a handing over of contraband will happen with around 20% accuracy – maybe more - we humans are far from flawless and could well overlook correctly predicted contraband in a searching.
The last time I spoke to some of our board members I used this comparison:
Think about a prison with hundreds of security cameras, and hundreds of microphones covering every spot. And now imagine every single camera and every single mic is attentively observed 24 hours a day by a surveillance specialist, able to speak all languages, trained to read and interpret facial expressions, with enough time to review every single image of a video he thought suspicious – with tools to analyze it pixel by pixel.
And now imagine every single surveillance specialist is sharing every relevant data with everyone else, drawing conclusions with algorithms that learn from failure to failure, from success to success, evolving every second.
That is what Agatha does.
Of course we are limited by the current hardware – but the AI is more than able to outsmart some corrupt guards or 'clever' inmates!”

“So you created a devil in a box. Congratulations. But as long as there are no multi-million-dollars left it does neither help me nor your friend!”

I knew I had made a point. I had baited her, now it was time for the catch:
“The railing hardware is not necessary. We can install Agatha for surveillance purposes only. Some AI capable work stations, and an extension of your surveillance system....
I mentioned we already planed to develop and test a modified Agatha exactly that way.
Fawn and me talked about that this prison would be optimal. If Agatha works here, it would work everywhere.” - a blatant lie. We would never have considered investing in this dilapidated prison. But for Fawn I was willing to do that. Time for carrot and stick:
“It would have been such a promising project. We could just focus on the basic functions of Agatha, not the complex parts like inmate navigation and control. She could just take care of your prisoners and staff by watching and listening. She would have been able to alarm help when there is violence, or a medical emergency – I suppose there are often medical problems with the addicts. No more fatal overdosing. She could assist in managing the prison, do paperwork, answer emails. And of course she could have helped you to stifle corruption, smuggling, sexual assaults.
Even the pile of complaints would have vanished....

So sorry, we need to postpone that – indefinitely!
Without Fawn I am unable to develop our Agatha further and create a modified version. We need to at least wait until she had done her time.
And after that I am pretty sure she won't set a foot back in this prison.

I got it, of course she needs to be punished for her misbehavior. It is just so sad... such a promising future ruined by a – comparably – small fault.
If there only was a way to get her free, or at least keep her sentence short......”

She was not stupid. She knew exactly what I was trying. But as I looked in her face I was sure I got her. She was thinking hard.

“A guilty plea.” she finally said.