Tracey's Mock Trial

[Hooked6]

Tracey's Mock Trial
1)
Tracey Smith was in her final year at university. She was out walking in the grounds when Lucy Jones approached her. Lucy was studying law and her ambition was to join the Crown Prosecution Service after she graduated.
'Tracey, I wonder if I could ask you a favour,' Lucy said.
'What's that?'
'You know that since the Justice Party won the General Election in June they've introduced a lot of new laws?'
'Yes.'
'Your old course got completely changed from Women's Studies to Gender Studies and it now has to be taught from the masculist perspective, didn't it?'
'Yes, I know. It's a real pain, to be honest, and I'm still trying to get the hang of the new approach.'
'Well, it's the same for me. As someone studying law the new changes are even more relevant and it's crucial that I get everything right. They've added all kinds of new features and modules. In my course right now we've now reached the stage where we have to conduct a mock trial. I was wondering if you'd be willing to be my defendant. I'd be the lawyer representing you.'
Tracey laughed.
'What crime am I supposed to have committed?'
'Prostitution, apparently. But I won’t know the full details of the charges against you till I get to court with you.’'
'To court? What, you mean like a real court?'
'No, not a real court but it's run exactly as if it was a real court having a real trial.'
'What happens exactly?'
'Well, I'm not totally sure. It's a new module they only introduced this term. A couple of weeks ago, to be honest. What I do know is that it’s run like a real court with real judges and a real jury. Though of course the lawyers are students like me..'
'And is it important to you to have me as a defendant?'
'Well, apparently how I get on at your mock trial can make a huge difference to the grades I get.'
'I see. Well, OK, I'll do it.'
'Thanks, Tracey.'
Tracey was wearing a long dress with high heels, a necklace and ear-rings. She looked at Lucy in her suit and wondered for a moment.
'You look very businesslike. Just like a smart lawyer. What about me? Am I dressed OK? Too over the top? Too frumpy? Or otherwise not looking quite right?'
Lucy laughed.
‘I suppose for someone facing a charge of prostitution you are a bit overdressed. Let’s go back to the halls of residence and you can get changed into something more – appropriate.’
‘Sluttish, you mean?’ Tracey laughed.
‘Well, yes, if you want to put it that way. We’d better motor though – the court’s due to start proceedings pretty soon. You’re down on the roster as case number 8 but I’ve got no idea how long each case is going to last.’
So Tracey and Lucy returned to the halls of residence. Lucy looked through Tracey’s wardrobe and selected a few items. She handed her a pair of red high-heeled shoes, a short chiffon T-shirt that was completely see-through, and a micro-mini skirt that was also see-through.
‘Put those on,’ said Lucy. ‘You’ll look the part of a whore for sure!’
Tracey put them on and then stared at herself in the mirror.
‘God, you’re right, I do look like a whore! Let me at least wear a bra and knickers!’
‘You can keep the knickers on,’ Lucy conceded. ‘But wearing a bra would spoil the effect completely,’ she grinned. ‘Come on, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now!’
Tracey and Lucy entered the law department of the university. It was surprisingly active, perhaps because of the sign on the door that read 'Criminal Justice Trial here.'
There were two signs, one pointing to the left which read 'Defence' and the other on the right reading 'Prosecution.' In the middle was a third sign which read 'Bookings.'
Lucy led Tracey through the middle entrance and spoke quickly to a young man sitting at a desk.
‘This is my client,’ she said. ‘Tracey Smith, charged with prostitution.’
‘I’m not surprised!’ the man replied.
'Well, I've got to check in now. Don't worry, I'll be a good defence lawyer for you!'
Then Lucy disappeared through the door to the left. The man at the desk then spoke to his new arrival.
'I am responsible for booking in the prisoners,' he said quietly. 'Name?'
'Tracey Smith.'
He wrote it down and then checked off her name against a list of pending trials.
'You are case number XY-481317-Q,' he told her.
Turning to Tracey with a slight smile, he addressed her directly.
'Now following the new legal reforms we have to adapt our procedures at university to make our courts as true to life as we can. Even though you aren't a real criminal, I'm afraid we'll have to treat you as if you were one.'
Tracey looked at him nervously when he said that,
'What exactly does that mean, please?'
'Well, to begin with you will be arrested by a police officer. You will then be fingerprinted, have mug shots taken and then be charged and brought before the court to be formally placed on trial. Your lawyer will then request that you are given bail and the judge will set a trial date. Your lawyer will represent you at your trial and if you are found guilty you will be sentenced. She will apply to the judge for bail and if he approves her request you will be released at once. If he refuses her request for bail you will be held in custody awaiting your trial.'
The phrase 'held in custody' set alarm bells ringing in Tracey's head.
'What do you mean, held in custody?'
'Well, as well as a mock police station we also have mock prison cells. And to make things more interesting we've mixed up mock defendants with real criminals. Don't worry; as soon as we've got you processed you can meet with your lawyer. She'll be studying your case file and the evidence against you.'
'So what happens next?'
'You need to go through that door straight ahead and the police will take over from there. Even though it's only a mock trial we've managed to persuade the force to send us real police officers to handle the proceedings. And none of them are aware that it's only a mock arrest and trial so they'll make it as realistic as possible. In the same way, neither the judge nor jury knows which of the people on trial genuinely are criminals and which of them are just students pretending to be. But the whole point of the mock trial is to make it as much like a real one as they can.’
'I'm not sure what that means exactly,' said an increasingly nervous Tracey.
'Don't worry, you're not the only defendant on trial today. The police officers will be handling everyone the same and following the new procedures. I'll give you the slip of paper with your case number.'
Tracey still didn't like the sound of it but the young man pointed her to the door ahead. After a moment's hesitation, Tracey walked forward and opened the door.
A woman in her twenties dressed in police uniform sat behind a desk.
'Case number?' she said, without even looking up.
Tracey handed over the slip of paper with her docket on it.
'Case number XY-481317-Q,' the policewoman said in a mechanical voice. 'You're the fourth one I've dealt with so far and I'm expecting a lot more prisoners to be brought up for trial today. OK, let's get this show on the road. To begin with, let's start by fingerprinting you.'
Tracey obediently placed her fingers on the ink pad and had her prints taken.
'Right, now it's time for you to have your mug shots taken. To begin with, we’ll just take one of you facing front.’
Tracey obediently faced to the front and the policewoman took a picture of her.
‘Now I want one of you in profile,’ the policewoman said.
Tracey turned to the side holding a placard.
‘OK, that’s the first part of your processing done,’ the policewoman told her. ‘Now it’s time for you to be strip searched.’
Tracey began to panic when she heard those words.
‘Oh, I didn’t sign up for that,’ she said. ‘I’m only here to help out a friend and a fellow student. No one said anything about getting strip searched.’
The policewoman gave her a cold look.
‘Don’t try and play the innocent with me,’ she said angrily. ‘It’s standard police procedure under the new Criminal Justice Act for felons to be strip searched. Now if you want me to get some officers to help me I will. Or you can just strip off here and now and there won’t be any unnecessary unpleasantness. It’s not as if you’re wearing much anyway!’
Reluctantly, Tracey began to strip. She had just reached the last item of her clothing – her knickers – when a man entered the room. Tracey immediately froze in shock and horror and stopped stripping. The policewoman and man laughed and then the woman officer spoke.
‘Did I say you could stop stripping?’
‘No, but...’
‘No fucking ‘but’ about it. Under the CJA it’s perfectly legal for you to be strip searched by officers of either gender. So shut the fuck up and carry on stripping unless you want me to taser you?’
Tracey grew frightened at that threat and removed her knickers. The man sat down in a chair and watched.
‘Nice tits,’ the policeman said from his chair. ‘Nice arse, too.’
Tracey blushed but remained silent. She was becoming increasingly nervous about the whole thing and wished she had never agreed to help Lucy with her project.
‘Now put your hands on your head,’ said the policewoman. ‘And keep them in position till I tell you otherwise.’
Reluctantly, Tracey placed her hands on her head, excruciatingly conscious of her nakedness in front of the man and woman, and waited.
‘Now, still holding your hands on your heads, squat down on your heels, keeping your legs apart so that we can get a good look at your cunt,’ the policewoman told her.
Tracey, increasingly embarrassed and unhappy, got down on the floor and assumed the – to her – obscene position that the police officer had ordered her to adopt.
‘Now bend down over the table,’ she commanded Tracey. ‘I’ll begin a visual examination of you.’
Thoroughly mortified, Tracey did as she was told.
‘OK, now it’s time to carry out a full body cavity search,’ the policewoman said. ‘Stay bent over that table while I search your cunt and arse.’
Tracey blushed brighter red than a beetroot but did as she was told.
With a look of disappointment on her face, after a thoroughly invasive ‘search’ the woman turned to her partner.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Not up her cunt or her arse.’
‘Oh well, never mind. Let’s get her nude mugshots taken.’
So Tracey had to pose for the camera while nude pictures of her were taken. She was becoming increasingly unnerved by the whole thing but her ordeal was about to become worse.
‘Right,’ said the policewoman. ‘You can fuck off now into one of the court’s holding cells while we process the rest of the crims.’
‘But what about my clothes?’ Tracey protested.
‘You’ll get them back when it’s time for you to go into court. Now just shut the fuck up and do what you’re told!’
Tracey had no choice but to obey the woman. A court official appeared and led her through the corridor to a door. He opened it and pushed Tracey inside before locking it.

[Hooked6]

Brilliant concept. I LOVED the mock trial premise and the mind boggles at the possibilities. Are you planning on continuing? I'd love to see more.

Hooked6

[donnabarber]

Yes, it's going to be a multipart story - so far I've written nine parts.

I'll post parts 2 and 3 today!

[Freight_Train]

Tracey's Mock Trial:

2)
Tracey sat down, still naked, on a hard wooden bench. She saw the other occupant of the cell and gave her a weak smile.
‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘I’m Tracey. Tracey Smith. Who are you?’
‘Jenny Lewis. What have they busted you for?’
‘Prostitution. And you?’
‘Drug dealing.’
‘Are you a student like me?’
The woman stared at her.
‘Are you for real? Of course not.’
‘So you’re not part of the mock trial experiment from my uni’s Law School?’
‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I got busted by the filth today and they brought me here to stand trial.’
‘I see,’ said Tracey thoughtfully.
She remembered what she’d been told about real criminals and students being deliberately mixed up and with no one except the lawyers knowing which ‘defendants’ were genuine criminals and which were only students helping out..
‘And what do you think will happen?’
‘To me? I expect I’ll get banged up for five years with hard labour.’
‘And me?’ Tracey asked more cautiously.
‘You’ll probably get two years with hard labour.’
Thank goodness this is only a pretend trial, Tracey thought with some relief. If I was facing a real court I don’t know how I’d get on!

[jeepster]

Tracey's Mock Trial:

3)
Ten minutes later the door of her cell was opened and a guard ushered her back to the reception area. The policeman looked at Tracey and smiled. That didn’t reassure her in the least.
‘You can put your clothes back on now,’ he laughed. ‘What little there is of them!’
Blushing, Tracey went to a box with her clothes and picked up her T-shirt and micro-skirt.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said. ‘My knickers seem to be missing.’
‘They’ve been withheld and are going to be entered into evidence against you.’
‘My knickers are going to be used as evidence against me?’
The policewoman spoke to her roughly.
‘You heard the gentleman. Just put your fucking clothes on!'
Resigned to the fact that she would now appear in court wearing a see-through T-shirt and a see-through micro skirt with no knickers, Tracey put her top and bottom on.
Now it’s time for you to be handcuffed and shackled,’ the policewoman told her.
Tracey made a futile last protest.
‘Is that really necessary?’
‘Yes, it is. Under the CJA it’s now standard procedure. It is recommended as the default method in the Code of Practice in the Royal Commission on Women’s Prison and Police Standards.’
‘But...’
‘No ‘but’ about it. It’s the law so you just have to go along with it. Unless you want to get tasered, of course.’
Tracey gazed down at the floor in defeat. She was already humiliated enough and the last thing she wanted was for pain to be added to the equation.
Looking up, she observed that, in stark contrast to when she had first been ‘processed,’ there were now around forty other people standing in line.
‘Are they all defendants?’ Tracey asked meekly.
‘Some are, some aren’t,’ came the curt answer. ‘And it’s none of your fucking business anyway. Just stand there while I get you cuffed and shackled.’
‘But does it have to be done – well, so publicly? There’s quite a crowd right now.’
‘Stop moaning and shut the fuck up. You’re under arrest and you have to be handcuffed and shackled. That’s the law. Now just put your hands behind your back. Unless you want my colleague to help you do that!’
‘No, I’ll do it,’ said Tracey, resigned to her fate.
Tracey placed her hands behind her back and the policewoman snapped the handcuffs shut. She felt the cold steel bite into her wrists and then things got even worse as the woman gave the cuffs an extra turn to lock them even more firmly into place. The next stage was to place leg irons on her ankles with a connecting chain running between them. Even that was not enough as a belly chain was fastened around her waist and threaded through to connect with her cuffed wrists. A padlock was snapped in place to further immobilize her. A further chain was led from her handcuffs down to the shackles that bound her ankles which made her restraints even tighter.
As she turned around she saw her cellmate gazing in horror.
‘They never used to chain us up like that before,’ she said, almost in awe.
But Tracey’s restraints were not yet finished. A metal collar was fastened around her neck with a chain running from it connecting it to the belly chain and the shackles on her legs. Then the policewoman produced another item.
Tracey stared in a mixture of baffled disbelief, horror and mystification as she saw the woman holding up a leather strap with at the centre of it something that looked for all the world like a big erect penis. Tracey, not at all happy and certainly confused, opened her mouth to ask what it was for but the policewoman got up from her table and quickly shoved it into her open mouth. No sooner was the gag in place than it was buckled behind her neck and kept even more firmly in place by being padlocked.
Tracey could only moan in futile protest but one of the male students from university came up to her. She recognised him at once and he had tried to ask her out on a date previously but she had turned him down.
‘Well, Tracey, not so much of a smart-mouth now, are you?’ he laughed. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you in court. I hope they throw the fucking hook at you!’
Tracey then saw that Jenny, her former cell mate, was being restrained with handcuffs, leg irons, a belly chain and a neck collar. To her annoyance she saw that she wasn’t gagged.
‘OK, take the bitch back to her cell,’ the policewoman said to Tracey.
Another policewoman led Tracey back to her cell. All she could do now was wait for her trial. Or at least until the arrival of Lucy to prepare her defence.

[jardam1]

4)
Tracey had been locked in her cell for ten minutes before Lucy finally arrived. The smile on Lucy’s face when she saw Tracey infuriated the ‘captive.’
‘OK, do you want the good news or the bad news?’
Tracey moaned behind her gag.
‘Oh yes, I’ll take that off for you.’
So, to Tracey’s enormous relief, Lucy unlocked her gag. Tracey coughed and spluttered as the intruder was removed from her mouth.
‘I don’t know why I have to be gagged in the first place,’ she protested. ‘And especially not with something like – like that!’
Lucy laughed when she said that.
‘What, the prick gag? Apparently they’re standard practice with sex offenders.’
‘But I’m not a sex offender!’
‘Well, you’re accused of being a whore which in the eyes of the law is a sex offence.’
‘Even so, being accused of prostitution is hardly being a serial killer.’
‘It’s all according to the new regulations laid down by the Subcommittee of the British Prison Commission’s Women’s Prison Standards. Even if I complained about it to the judge he’d overrule me. Just put up with it till the time comes for you to speak.’
Tracey nodded glumly.
‘What was the good news?’
‘The good news is that even though your case will be conducted exactly as if it was a real trial you won’t have to wait months remanded in custody.’
‘Christ, I should hope not! It’s bad enough being – well, handcuffed and chained up like this even for a few hours. Anyway, what happens next?’
‘Well, I’ll briefly outline the procedure for your trial. You’ve been charged with multiple counts of prostitution and apparently there are a number of witnesses who will testify not only that they saw you whoring yourself out but also a number who claim to have been customers of yours.’
‘But it’s all pretend, isn’t it?’
‘Sure,’ said Lucy reassuringly. ‘But the prosecution doesn’t know that – and nor do the judge and jury. Only you and I know that.’
‘Who are these witnesses?’
‘They haven’t told me. Under the new laws I don’t get to find that out till your trial begins.’
‘And what about bail?’
‘Well, I’ll apply for it on your behalf, of course. But the prosecution will oppose it and the judge by all accounts has a real down on whores so he’ll probably refuse you bail.’
‘And if he does – what then? Am I free to go till my trial takes place?’
‘I’m afraid not. If bail is denied you’ll have to be remanded in custody in one of the holding cells.’
‘But for how long?’
‘In a real court it could be months. In this mock trial it will only be for a weekend.’
‘A whole weekend!’ Tracey wailed. ‘But I can’t let that happen! I’m going out tonight on a date with John Chambers! I must have been mad to let you talk me into this, Lucy.’
‘Well, I did give you the good news first. And there’s nothing I can do about it – the law’s the law and I have to go along with it. Anyway, like I said, you might get bail. Anyway, I’m done for now. Guard!’
A man came in and buckled Tracey’s prick gag back in place in her mouth. She watched Lucy leave her cell and could only hope that somehow the young law student could get her granted bail. Apart from her washed-out date, the idea of spending a weekend in a prison cell, gagged and tightly restrained, was anything but appealing.

[surferchick]

Hey Donna, you can't leave us like this... Hope you are curreently writing a next part of it, at least I hope.
It was so mcuh excitment and fun to read it... tht can't stop here.
Kisses Kaddy

[Belinda]

Brilliant story Donna. Thank you so much.

[surferchick]

5)
Eventually Tracey was led out of her cell and into the courtroom. She saw that the female defendants were placed on the left and the male ones to the right. Tracey counted up the ‘felons’ and wondered how many of them were genuine criminals. She recognised three of the women as fellow students and one of the men. In all there were fifty-one people in the court.
‘All rise,’ said the clerk of the court. ‘Session in progress, Honourable Judge Malcolm Chambers presiding.’
Oh my God, Tracey thought. Malcolm Chambers? John told me his dad was a judge but I never thought I’d be – on trial – in his court.
‘Let the trial begin,’ she said, in a deep, distinguished voice. ‘Bring on the first defendant.’
The first case was of a young man and woman charged jointly. Both were accused of stealing a car and each blamed the other for the theft. The prosecutor began by calling his first witness, the man whose car had been stolen.
He confirmed that he had seen two people stealing his car, a man and a woman, but he couldn’t be sure which of them had been driving.
The next witness was a cyclist who claimed to have been nearly hit by the car as it sped away rapidly. He was absolutely sure that the woman had been driving the car. The final witness was a pedestrian who had been standing nearby when the car was stolen. He too was absolutely certain that the woman had stolen the car.
At that point the judge asked if the jury was ready to pass a verdict. They were, and found the man not guilty and the woman guilty of car theft. The man was released immediately and the judge turned to the woman defendant, who was only a year or two older than Tracey.
‘I sentence you to six months hard labour in prison.’
Gasps came from some of the audience and the girl’s face grew pale as she looked down at the floor, utterly crushed. Tracey was dismayed at the harsh sentence and angry that the woman had been punished but the man had got away scot-free. She would have been even more angry if she had known that only one of the ‘witnesses’ was genuine – the man whose car had been stolen. He at least had been honest enough to admit that he wasn’t sure who was driving the car but the two ‘witnesses’ were in reality personal friends of the man – who of course had stolen the car and blamed it on his girlfriend after she dumped him over it. Her testimony that it was him and not her that had stolen the car was completely disregarded by the judge and jury.
Tracey continued watching as more and more cases followed in quick succession. The couple accused of car theft were the only cases where a man and woman were jointly charged. With 51 cases to deal with, Judge Chambers announced that he would deal with the 23 men first.
The next case was a man Tracey recognised from uni. He was 20 years old and was well known for pressuring girls into sex. He was charged with sexual harassment and the judge turned to the male law student acting as defendant.
‘This might be a difficult case,’ Judge Chambers said. ‘Do you wish to apply for bail for the defendant and to defer his case till next week?’
The defence lawyer immediately applied for bail which the judge granted.
After that a flurry of other cases involving men were dealt with quickly. As each case recognised three of them. Two were fellow-students and one was her former cellmate.
The judge denied bail in the first six cases and found Jenny guilty after a quick trial. Even Tracey had to admit that the evidence against Jenny had been overwhelming though she did gasp a little at the sentence imposed on her by Judge Chambers.
‘Five years imprisonment with hard labour and fifty strokes of the cane!’ he announced.
After that it was lunchtime and the court was adjourned. Tracey could only hope that when it came to her own case being tried that the judge would grant her bail.

[surferchick]

Yeahhh. Finally the next chapter. Really can feel with her to be restrained like this all the time and watch the trail going on

[donnabarber]

Thanks; I'll post the rest in stages.

I've written 20 parts so far and have just started on part 21

[Marcellomco]

6)
After lunch the court returned the Clerk of the Court announced to all present.
‘Case Number XY-481317-Q, the Crown vs. Tracey Smith,’ he said, in a loud clear voice.
Still handcuffed, shackled and gagged, Tracey was led to the dock. She saw Lucy sitting at the defence lawyer’s bench and another young woman sitting on the prosecution bench. Lucy, who had been so confident and jocular earlier, now seemed nervous.
Tracey gazed around the courtroom, hoping that not many people would recognise her. Then she gasped behind her gag as she recognised her boyfriend, John Chambers.
‘Let the trial begin,’ said Judge Chambers. ‘For the prosecution, Miss Nina Harris. For the defence, Miss Lucy Jones. Before I decide on whether or not to proceed with the trial of this case I will hear applications for bail. Miss Jones, are you requesting bail for your client?’
‘Yes, Your Honour,’ said Lucy eagerly. ‘Tracey Smith is a law-abiding citizen and a student at this university. I will demonstrate that the charges against her are false but as she poses no kind of threat to the public I hereby move for the court to grant her bail’
‘Miss Harris? Do you have any objection to bail being granted?’
‘Yes, Your Honour. Prostitution is an abominable scourge on decent society and Tracey Smith is a serial offender. In the circumstances I believe that she poses a serious flight risk and should therefore be denied bail.’
Judge Chambers shuffled through some papers and then smiled slightly
‘I have heard the submissions from both lawyers and in the circumstances I am inclined to err on the side of caution. It is possible that Miss Jones may be correct and that Tracey Smith not only poses no flight risk but that her defence against the charges against her might even prove to be successful. However, that remains to be seen. In the circumstances I have decided to refuse the application for bail.’
Tracey was crushed at the news. She’d be locked up – remanded in custody – for the weekend until her trial next week. And she saw John Chambers staring at her from the public gallery in obvious surprise. There goes my date, she thought angrily. Why did I let Lucy talk me into this stunt in the first place?
Lucy rose to her feet again.
‘Would it be possible to conduct the trial today, Your Honour?’
‘I think not,’ Judge Chambers smiled. ‘The defendant will be remanded in custody until her case comes to trial next week. Today is Friday; we already have a backlog of cases for next week so I will schedule her trial date for Friday week.’
Tracey gasped in horror behind her gag as she realised she’d be spending a whole week in custody. Probably handcuffed, shackled and gagged too, she thought wearily. I’ll bloody kill Lucy when this is over!

[Belinda]

7)
Lucy spoke quickly to Judge Chambers.
‘Your Honour, may I have a quick word with my client, please?’
‘Yes, Miss Jones, I will allow that. But be brief!’
Lucy went across to Tracey and tried to reassure her.
‘Look, I’m sorry about this. In the first place I didn’t know there would be 51 cases on trial so it was inevitable that some would be deferred. I also didn’t expect even in the worst case scenario that you’d be remanded in custody for a week rather than just the weekend.’
‘I just wish I’d never gone along with it in the first place,’ Tracey said angrily. ‘What the hell is a week in custody going to be like?’
‘Well, it’s a lot better to be a remand prisoner than a convicted one. Under the new rules the general practice is to put remand felons in solitary.’
‘Great! So I won’t even get to talk to anyone for a week!’
‘Well, I’m allowed to come in and spend half an hour going over your case with you and of course you’ll see the guards. But other than that, I’m afraid, it will be a bit grim.’
‘And how will I be held? Am I going to be naked, handcuffed, shackled and gagged?’
‘You will be naked, I’m afraid, and you will be handcuffed and shackled. But the gag will only be put in from time to time.’
‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’
‘Well, believe me, if you knew the new rules for convicted prisoners you’d look on that as being pretty mild.’
‘And what if it all goes wrong in court? The judge doesn’t know I’m just playing a part. He’s bound to think I really am a prostitute. Do you know the fake evidence against me yet?’
‘Not fully, no. I’ve got pages of files to go through but to keep it short there are eight witnesses who claim that you propositioned them for sex and four who claimed that you let them fuck you for money. There are also various pieces of other evidence that they haven’t let me have yet. I’m not sure what they could be.’
‘And what if the worst comes to the worst and I get found guilty? What if the judge and jury believe the fake witnesses rather than me?’
‘Well, in that worst case scenario I’d launch an immediate appeal.’
‘And how long would that take?’
‘Oh, the appeal is always going to be quick under the new laws. You wouldn’t have to wait more than three days.’
‘Fantastic! And what if I lose my case even on appeal?’
‘In that case,’ Lucy said, ‘I’ll have to speak to Judge Chambers in private and explain the truth to him.’
‘You know I was going out with his son John this evening. That’s all shot to pieces now. God knows what John thinks of me now. Did he even know about this mock trial scheme of yours?’
‘Well, I never told him. I don’t think anyone else would.’
‘Great! So now my boyfriend thinks I really am a whore!’
‘I’ll do my best for you, Tracey. Would you like me to explain to him?’
‘Fuck, no. You’ve done enough damage already.’
At that point the clerk of the court beckoned to Tracey to come with two police officers. She got up and reluctantly followed them to her holding cell – her home for the next seven days. Though she didn’t know it yet, her ordeal was only going to become much worse.

[surferchick]

Awesome sequel. This is getting better and better as I expected. You really know How to turn on my mind games. Love What you are doing.

[Belinda]

8)
Inside the cell the two policemen released Tracey from her handcuffs and shackles and then ordered her to strip naked. Reluctantly, she did as they told her and then her wrists were once more handcuffed behind her back and her ankles fitted with shackles
‘Am I going to stay like this all the time?’ Tracey asked mildly.
‘Not our decision,’ the older copper said. ‘We’re just following orders and that’s how you’ll be when we lock you up in your remand cell.’
They fitted the ball gag into her mouth and now once again Tracey could do nothing but moan impotently behind her gag. Unknown to the young woman, her ordeal was about to become much worse.
Nina Harris was an ambitious young woman of 21 who was completely ruthless and who saw the law as simply a means of advancing her career. She was prepared to stoop to any kind of dirty trick to achieve victory. Her father was Detective Chief Inspector Bill Harris and he doted on his daughter.
It had been Nina’s idea to get Lucy to persuade Tracey to be a ‘mock defendant’ in the Law School mock trial though at that stage her intentions were fairly simple. The main intention on Nina’s part was to get Tracey denied bail and locked up in a cell for a week and during the time she was in custody to use her feminine wiles to win John Chambers away from Tracey.
The idea that John could choose the (in Nina’s eyes) fat, short, stupid bimbo Tracey over her, a sophisticated, tall and elegant girl was unendurable to Nina. She planned to at least take her rival down a peg or two and hopefully win John for herself.
Most of the law students only watched their own cases but Nina remained in court to view every single trial. To her astonishment the final case involved a young woman accused of prostitution.
In itself that meant nothing but what struck Nina when the defendant came into court was her amazing physical resemblance to Tracey. It’s like looking into the mirror, Nina thought. She’s a complete double for that bitch.
At that moment a plan began to form in Nina’s devious mind. She knew she’d need her father to make it work but she also knew he’d be happy to help her out.
The defendant, in an even more striking coincidence, was called Theresa Smith, but she also used the aliases of Tracey Smith and Terri Smith. This is like a dream come true, thought Nina. It’s as if it was meant to happen.
Theresa Smith pleaded guilty to the charges of prostitution and was sentenced to five years hard labour and one hundred strokes of the cane. Nina licked her lips in anticipation as she imagined Tracey undergoing that punishment instead of Theresa Smith.
The court broke up and Nina approached her father. Briefly she explained her plan and asked him to take charge of both Theresa Smith and Tracey. He was slightly surprised and asked her why so Nina told him that ‘Tracey stole my boyfriend and I want him back. I want her to suffer for what she’s done to me.’
Inspector Harris agreed and took charge of Theresa Smith, now gagged, handcuffed and shackled as the inspector prepared to transport her to her cell.
‘In an hour’s time the prison transit van will be here to transport the convicted felons to their new homes at the Eastfield Prison for Women,’ said Nina. ‘Lock this bitch in Tracey’s cell and transfer Tracey to the consignment going to the prison.’
When he opened the door of Tracey’s cell Inspector Harris was stunned at the resemblance between the two young women.
‘Incredible,’ he said quietly. ‘They could be twins.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ Nina smiled. ‘Well, let’s get Theresa stripped naked and then we can get Tracey transferred to a different cell.’
Quickly Theresa was stripped naked and left in Tracey’s old cell. Before they took Tracey out Nina couldn’t resist gloating over her rival’s new and unexpected plight.
‘You know, Tracey, when this mock trial started my best hope was to get you banged up for a week or maybe ten days. Now I’ve found a double who even has an almost identical name – Theresa Smith. And she uses the aliases of Tracey Smith and Terri Smith so no one will know it’s not you rather than her when we leave her inside this cell. As for you, bitch,’ she grinned, ‘you’ve just been sentenced to five years hard labour and 100 strokes of the cane!’
Inspector Harris intervened at that point.
‘I’ll change over the fingerprint evidence and the rest of the data on the dummy database into the real police and court files. That way it will look as if Tracey is the real Theresa Smith and Theresa is the real Tracey Smith. Oh, and I’ll ring the governor of the prison and tell him to see that Smith gets the works once she’s an inmate!’
Tracey’s eyes widened in horror and she pleaded wordlessly with Nina and the Inspector. But there was no mercy for her in either of their stony hearts as father and daughter laughed at the imminent prospect of Tracey’s suffering..
Theresa was slightly baffled but she did sense that somehow she was going to be asked to pretend to be a student undergoing a mock trial and would be released in a week’s time. Well, it’s a lot better that what the judge gave me, she thought, almost gratefully.
Tracey, still naked, handcuffed, shackled and gagged, was moved out of her cell into an area marked ‘Prisoner Transit.’ She saw Jenny Lewis there as well as a couple of other women she recognised from the earlier court cases.
Oh God, how am I going to get out of this one, she thought in a mood of increasing desperation?

[Belinda]

9)
After a couple of hours waiting in the holding area Tracey heard the prison van approaching. She and the other prisoners were inspected by the driver who checked off each name against a list on his clipboard. When he came to Tracey he smiled.
‘We’ve received special instructions about you,’ he told her. ‘You are going to get the harshest possible treatment while you’re in prison.’
Behind her gag Tracey’s eyes widened and she moaned in impotent protest. She was pushed into the prison van and the journey began.
It took a couple of hours before they arrived at the prison. Tracey and the other prisoners were marched inside to the reception area. She saw around twenty people, mostly men, staring at her as she was led inside.
The other prisoners were processed quickly and taken off to their cells. The governor of the prison then looked closely at Tracey. He sat down at a desk and read her file – in reality, the doctored file for Theresa Smith.
‘Well,’ he said quietly, ‘your name is Theresa Smith. Also using the aliases of Tracey Smith and Teri Smith.’
Tracey longed to be able to speak but her gag prevented it. She had the nasty feeling that even if she tried to explain things she wouldn’t be believed.
'Your prison number is 118. You will answer to that from now on. You will also be fitted with lasting restraints while you are our guest and you will work at hard labour while you are here. Any failure to meet our quotas or any laziness on your part will result in severe punishment ranging from caning to birching to whipping to being placed in the sweat box or the hole. To ensure that you maintain discipline throughout your time here you will also receive twenty strokes of the cane once a week to remind you of your lowly status as a prisoner.’
Tracey gasped behind her gag and wondered if somehow Lucy could get her out of this mess. She probably doesn’t even realise, she thought. Maybe when she visits me in my cell she’ll see it’s not me in there but this Theresa Smith and then...
It dawned on her that her ‘case’ wasn’t due to be tried till Friday and it might be days or even a whole week before Lucy came to visit her. Oh God, how am I going to survive a week in this hell-hole?

[surferchick]

This gets better and better. Love to read every single word of it. What you are doing to her is so incredible hot. Love it

[Marcellomco]

(Content warning - in this chapter Tracey gets raped.)

10)
Tracey was led out of the governor’s office to a workshop in the prison grounds. Two male guards pushed her there roughly and she saw a blazing fire and a number of tools being heated up in the coals. To her initial relief the handcuffs and shackles binding her wrists and ankles were removed but it was not long before new steel bands were fastened around her wrists and ankles and welded firmly into place. They were fastened tightly and cut into her soft flesh and each steel band had rings fitted to them which could be attached to other methods of restraint. Then the ensemble was completed with a metal collar around her neck, cruelly studded with iron spikes to cut into her flesh and also fitted with rings that could be attached to other forms of restraint. As a final touch a chain around three feet long was attached to a ring in the neck collar.
Tracey was already terrified of what had happened to her but her ordeal was about to get much worse. The workman picked up another tool and plunged it into the blazing coals.
If she hadn’t been gagged Tracey would have screamed and demanded to know what the hell was going on but as she was in a state of enforced silence she could do nothing but open her eyes wide in horror as it dawned on her what was about to happen.
‘No escape for you now, whore!’ one of the guards said mockingly. ‘Now we’re going to brand your prison number deep into that soft fat flabby flesh of yours!’
Tracey screamed behind her gag in anticipation but her subdued howls were even louder when the glowing brand was placed against her hip.
‘118,’ the workman smiled.
Tracey tried to struggle against the intense pain but to no avail. She knew that she was now permanently marked as a prison inmate and that she’d been branded for life. Even if Lucy managed to get her released the brand would be a permanent reminder of her time in prison and might even cause her problems in the future. The guards laughed happily at her screams and obvious pain.
‘Now the other hip,’ the workman smiled.
Tracey screamed once more as the glowing brand burnt its way into her other hip. It was increasingly dawning on her that somehow there had been a ghastly mistake and that the prison authorities really believed that she was a prostitute and were punishing her for it. Oh God, how am I going to get out of this?
When the workman had finished kitting Tracey out with her restraints and branding her on her hips the two guards gave a tug on the lead and pulled her along to a cell. Unlocking the door, they threw her roughly inside. She landed on the stone floor, gasping behind her gag as her soft flesh scraped painfully against the roughness of the stone.
Then one of the guards grabbed Tracey by her legs and spread them wide apart. He took off his trousers and laughed at the naked young woman.
‘Well, whore, how do you like having to give it to us for nothing?’
He then roughly pushed his prick into Tracey’s cunt and she screamed in pain behind her gag as he dry fucked her, making no attempt to lubricate her as he penetrated her. She felt the violation of her cunt as his spunk ejaculated inside her. Oh God, I hope I don’t get pregnant, Tracey thought as he finally came.
Then it was the turn of the other guard. He was even worse than the first. He simply turned Tracey over on to her belly and pushed her hips up into the air. Pushing her legs apart, he spread her arse cheeks and her eyes widened in horror.
Please no, please don’t fuck me there! Tracey tried to voice her pleas but behind her gag nothing but low moans and gibberish came out.
She felt an agonising pain as her formerly virgin arse was violated. His prick plunged deep inside her arse and she tried to struggle, scraping her tits and belly against the stone floor but of course her attempts were futile. She sobbed in pain and despair as he thrust inside her arse. To her even deeper shame he thrust his middle finger up her cunt and began fingering her clit. In spite of the pain Tracey was becoming aroused and to her utter horror she climaxed. After that she collapsed on the floor, exhausted, utterly humiliated and embarrassed but still feeling the after-effects of her orgasm.
The two guards laughed as they locked the door behind her.
‘Stupid fucking whore! You can tell she fucking loved it!’
After that she was left in her cell to sleep. Tracey cried and cried but was baffled by the strange feelings that had overcome her during her rape. What’s wrong with me? Am I some kind of sick depraved bitch? Maybe I really am a slut or a whore?

[Marcellomco]

11)
Some hours passed and then the guards came for Tracey once more. She was dragged along the corridor to meet the governor. For a wild moment she hoped she might be able to convince him that he’d made a mistake and that she wasn’t really a prisoner but the gag remained in place and she could say nothing.
‘Well, 118,’ he began, ‘you have been sentenced to five years hard labour plus 100 strokes of the cane.’
Tracey’s eyes widened in horror. 100 strokes of the cane! I’ll never survive it!
The governor smiled at her obvious fear.
‘Yes, you should be frightened of that prospect,’ he told her. ‘I understand from your record that one of the many things you did as a whore was to whip men. [This, of course, was true of Theresa Smith but not of course of Tracey Smith!] Let’s see how you fucking like it when the roles are reversed. I’m sure you know the saying that it’s more blessed to give than to receive. Well, you’re about to find out how true that is!’
Tracey could only moan in impotent silence behind her gag. They secured her over a bench and a cane was produced.
‘You will receive twenty-five strokes on your arse, twenty-five strokes on your belly, twenty-five on your tits and twenty-five up your cunt. At the end of your caning you will be returned to your cell to meditate upon your wrong-doing and hopefully will emerge with a more penitential spirit in future.’
Tracey could only shiver in fear at the prospect that awaited her. She was secured to the bench and the guard began beating her arse without mercy.
‘One! Two! Three!’
The strokes seemed to go on for hours and Tracey screamed behind her gag although her cries came out as muffled grunts. Eventually he was finished and Tracey felt an overwhelming desire to rub her arse but that was impossible with her restraints.
‘Now stand up while we secure you to the pole,’ the governor said.
Tracey found herself chained to a wooden pole and a second guard also picked up the cane and began belabouring the soft flesh of her belly. The pain was intense and her tears flew freely and her cries behind the gag were audible, if hardly comprehensible.
After twenty-five strokes of the cane on her belly a third guard picked up the cane and began lashing it hard across her tits. It was excruciating and Tracey nearly passed off with the pain but the blows came relentlessly till all twenty-five had been administered.
‘Now spread the whore’s legs wide apart so her cunt can get a good punishment,’ said the governor.
Tracey found her legs forced apart with a spreader bar and then a fourth guard caned her brutally up her cunt. She screamed behind her gag and tears gushed out of her eyes like a waterfall but of course the beating did not end.
‘That makes 100 strokes in total,’ the governor smiled. ‘Let that be a lesson to you, 118. You can fuck off back to your cell now and recover. Tomorrow your new life begins in earnest!’
At that point one of the guards apologised to the governor.
‘Sorry, Sir, I must have misinterpreted the whore’s sentence. It says here she’s to get 100 strokes of the cane on her bare arse.’
The governor smiled happily at Tracey and had her secured over the bench once more. She’s got great tits, maybe the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of caning, but her arse is also one of the very best I’ve caned.
The caning began afresh and Tracey’s abused and already sore and bruised arse received another seventy-five hard and painful strokes.
‘I think you might be a frequent visitor to my office, 118,’ he smiled as he laid down the cane at last. Tracey could only wince and moan through her gag and her face was running a river of tears. This is hell on earth, she thought. If I ever get out of here I’ll fucking kill Lucy!

[surferchick]

Amazing what you are doing to her. This is sooo awesome. Please continue like this. Hell is waiting

[Marcellomco]

12)
Morning came and the guards woke her from sleep.
‘Get up, lazy cunt! Time to start working!’
Tracey crawled up from the bare stone floor and faced the guards again. For a moment she wondered if she was about to be raped once more but this time they just told her to follow them out of the cell.
‘Today you will work, 118. You will be taken to the stone quarry where you will help to build a new luxury hotel for tourists.’
Tracey’s eyes widened at the prospect of working at heavy construction but she’d already seen more than enough of the guards to meekly obey.
‘You will be fed on site,’ the guard told her. ‘Any slacking on your part will result in harsh punishment for you.’
He led her along the corridor where she saw nineteen more women prisoners. Most were naked but a couple had flimsy covering. All of them wore shackles, collars and fetters on their wrists. The guards waved the women towards a van and loaded them inside it. The van had a series of rings in the floor and walls and the chains on their ankles and wrists were locked on to the rings to secure them. The procedure was repeated until all twenty women had been fastened securely in place ready for transit. Tracey noted how filthy the interior of the van was and the smell of sweat from the unwashed women filled her nostrils and was overpowering. As it moved along the road dust blew inside the van and added to her discomfort.
Tracey looked at her fellow prisoners and only recognised Jenny Lewis. Most were in their twenties or early thirties and she saw with horror that some of the women displayed signs of whip marks across their bodies.
After about a twenty minute drive the van pulled up and the back door was unlocked. The prisoners were released from the chains on the wall and floor and led outside to the bright morning sunlight.
‘OK, bitches!’ a guard shouted at them. ‘You’re here to work your fat lazy arses off. Over there are hammers to break the rocks, shovels to dig the earth and buckets to put the broken rocks in. Once the buckets are full you cunts will take the rubble away. Pick up your tools and start fucking working! For the benefit of our newcomers, you will work a twelve-hour day, seven days a week. If we need you to work overtime, you may have to work up to sixteen hours a day.’
He pointed at Tracey.
‘Pick up a hammer and break the rocks,’ he ordered her. ‘The rest of you use shovels to dig or collect the rocks with your bare hands and load up the cart.’
Tracey gazed in horror at the task she was expected to do. Many of the other women had clearly been doing it for some time and moved quickly towards the shovels and began to dig the earth. Tracey picked up her hammer gingerly and tried to smash it hard against the rocks.
Eventually after two hours the other women had managed to load up the cart with the dug earth and the rocks that Tracey had broken. She was exhausted and thirsty and had been doing the hardest job of all the women but the guard ignored her as he produced a jug of water and gave it to the other prisoners.
‘No water for you, 118,’ he grinned. ‘You’ve got to cart the rubble away now, whore!’
While the other women drank and rested, a naked and shattered Tracey struggled to pull the cart full of heavy rocks and earth. The guard lashed her with a whip to encourage her, shouting at her.
‘Work harder, whore! You’ve spent too much of your life making your money by fucking. Now you’ll find out what real fucking work is like, 118!’
Eventually she pulled the cart to the work station and then returned. Once more it was her task to hammer away and reduce the hard rock to gravel. From time to time one of the guards lashed her with a whip, calling her a ‘lazy fucking cunt,’ and ‘a worthless slut.’ Tracey felt her shackles pulling away at her as she worked but she knew better than to try and ease the discomfort in any way. Still gagged, she struggled and laboured on in the hot sun, sweat pouring off her body and her arms aching from the strain put on her muscles by the hard, physical work.
The women had begun working at 8.00 a.m. and finally, to Tracey’s immense relief, at noon the guards called a brief halt. The guards went into a cafeteria to eat a leisurely and sumptuous lunch while the quarry workers were ordered to sit down on the hard ground. A guard came up with a bowl of cold porridge and a beaker of water.
Tracey was finally ungagged and gasped at the unexpected freedom. Her mouth and tongue were dry with the hot sun and the pressure of being gagged for hours but she tried, after a quick swig of water, to speak to the guard.
‘Please, sir, I shouldn’t be here. I’m a university student and I’ve been sent here by mistake.’
He looked at Tracey and laughed.
‘118, I know all about you. You’re a worthless whore and you’ve been sentenced to five years hard labour. Don’t think I’m going to fall for any of your crap. Now eat up and be thankful I don’t put you on report!’
‘But, sir, couldn’t I please see the governor?’
‘No. Now shut the fuck up and eat or I’ll thrash you to within an inch of your life!’
Reluctantly, Tracey fell silent. She ate the cold porridge and drank the water and tried to rest and recover from her ordeal. I hope Lucy knows what’s going on, she thought sourly. Even though she probably thinks I’m stuck in the holding cell in the law courts, surely she’ll come and visit me soon and find out it’s not me that’s being held prisoner in there?

[Marcellomco]

13)
After she’d finished eating, Tracey sat down on the ground and hoped she could survive the rest of the day. At that point one of the guards came across and pushed her forward so that she was on all fours. His hands grabbed her arse cheeks and spread them wide. To her horror he pulled down his trousers and once again shoved his prick up her arse. He used no lubricant and the pain was intense and Tracey felt utterly violated. When he came at last inside her arse she wept. Then another guard rolled her on to her back and spread her legs wide apart. Like the first guard, he took down his trousers and rammed his hard erect prick up her cunt. She gasped as the intruder ravaged away inside her. Her tears flowed freely now but were quite ignored by the guard, solely intent on his own pleasure.
‘Well, whore, from now on you’ll give it to us for free!’ he laughed.
Contemptuously, he spurned Tracey with his foot and she tried to recover. Oh God, if I’d know all this was going to happen to me I’d never have agreed to help Lucy. Does she have any idea what I’m going through?
‘Right, lazy bitches, back to work,’ came the harsh command.
Tracey somehow raised herself up and began wielding the hammer on the rock. Her life was becoming hell on earth, a seemingly unending cycle of rape, torture and hard physical labour. She remembered the governor of the prison telling her that she had five years of this to ‘look forward to’ and the idea terrified her. I can’t stand five more weeks of this, Tracey thought, let alone five years! I’ll be dead long before my time is up.
As she wearily wielded the hammer, she felt dirty inside, the remnant of spunk lingering inside her arse and cunt and making her feel utterly unclean and worthless.

[Marcellomco]

14)
While Tracey was being raped and beaten and made to work at hard labour, Nina Harris was busy seeking out her ex-boyfriend. I’ll make that fucking bitch pay for stealing him from me, Nina thought angrily. She’s nothing but a fat slag while I’m elegant, sophisticated and in every way a far better match for John.
She found John looking moodily out in the university grounds.
‘I didn’t even know Tracey was on trial,’ he said. ‘You didn’t have to oppose bail for her, though.’
‘I want to be a prosecutor,’ said Nina. ‘Of course I’m going to oppose bail. Don’t forget it was your father the judge who agreed with me.’
‘Yes, but Dad doesn’t know Tracey’s my girlfriend. I was taking her out on a date tonight – a slap up-meal followed by an evening at the theatre. All gone now. She’s locked up in a holding cell and I won’t be able to see her for a week.’
‘Did you book tickets?’
‘Yes, and the meal.’
‘It seems a shame to waste them. Since Tracey will be locked up for quite some time why don’t we go out for the evening instead?’
John gave her a cold look.
‘I bet you hoped my Dad would deny bail so you could come on to me. Well, I’m fond of Tracey. She may not be the brightest light bulb in the box but she’s a good person.’
‘Well, I’m sure that’s what you thought she was but I know better. She’s a whore, John, and she’s going to prison next week.’
‘A whore? Tracey? But she always seemed so – modest. Prudish, even. I just can’t buy the idea of her as a whore.’
‘My Dad’s a police officer. He’s got the file on her. Apparently she’s got previous convictions for soliciting so it’s all on her record.’
‘I had no idea.’
John gazed away thoughtfully.
‘She’s never let me fuck her up the arse. Or sucked my cock. Surely a whore wouldn’t have any problem about doing that?’
‘She obviously thinks she should charge men extra for that. While I’m always happy to let you do that to me for nothing, John.’
‘Even so, it just seems so out of character for her. I never imagined her as a whore.’
‘People aren’t always as they seem. Criminals in particular learn to put on a face to the world to try and avoid being caught. In Tracey’s case she’s been found out now and she’s going to be sent to prison for a long time when your father sentences her.’
‘I could always have a word with him and ask him to at least let her out on bail. She’s hardly likely to run away if I do that for her.’
‘That would be abusing your special relationship with your father and would compromise his judicial impartiality. Anyway, she might get lucky on Friday when her case comes to trial. Your father might decide to give her one last chance. I might even decide to help Lucy a little so that Tracey gets a non-custodial sentence.’
‘I’d appreciate that,’ John said. ‘Even if Tracey is a whore I don’t really want her going to prison. Were there any other whores on trial today?’
‘A couple, yes.’
‘What sentence did Dad give them?’
‘Five years in prison with hard labour and a hundred strokes of the cane.’
‘Fuck, that’s harsh. I wouldn’t like to think of Tracey getting punished – like – well, like that.’
‘Don’t worry; I’m sure it won’t come to that. Anyway, do you still want to take me out tonight instead of Tracey? You know you can fuck me up the arse or have me suck your cock any time you want.’
John thought about it for a moment and then agreed.
‘OK, but if you’re serious about having a word with Lucy I would appreciate it very much.’
‘Consider it done,’ Nina smiled back at him. But the words of the Dire Straits song ‘Romeo and Juliet’ were running in her head, ‘hey la, my boyfriend’s back.’

[Tealc000]

15)
That evening Nina and John went out for a lavish meal and an evening at the theatre. After it was over she sucked his cock and let him fuck her up the arse. By contrast, Tracey was sore from her canings and whippings, covered with welts and bruises, stinking of sweat and dirt and had been forbidden to take a shower. She wept behind her gag as she was pushed into her cell and fitfully slept, constantly expecting the door of her cell to open and for one of the guards to rape her once more.
The night shift, like most of the unsocial hours and unpleasant jobs, was always given to the women guards. So far Tracey had only been abused by men but now she was about to endure the untender mercies of the lesbian officers.
At 1.00 a.m. the door of her cell was opened and two burly butch women stood there, both towering over the fat but diminutive Tracey.
‘Get up, 118!’ one of the women shouted.
Tracey reluctantly raised herself off the stone floor.
‘Right, bitch, I’m about to remove your gag.’
Tracey had an idea that her gag wasn’t being removed for her benefit and of course she was absolutely right.
‘We already know you love cock up all three of your holes,’ the woman said. ‘How well do you think you can lick cunt?’
Tracey stared at the women in horror.
‘I’m... I’m not a ... a lesbian,’ she said finally.
The guards looked at each other and laughed.
‘We don’t fucking care, bitch! You’re nothing now; just a convicted criminal whore and you have no fucking rights from now on. You either obey every command you get given or else you get punished. I can see you’ve already tasted the cane and the whip but we have other tortures we can use to punish you if you’re getting bored with them.’
Tracey stared at the women, hopelessly seeking to find any sign of possible mercy in their hard faces. There was none to find and she resigned herself to her latest ordeal.
‘No, ladies, I’ll do it,’ she said reluctantly.
She was forced to lick both women’s cunts until they orgasmed in her face. Tracey felt dirty and violated but at least this time she hadn’t been raped.
While Tracey endured the unwanted attentions of the lesbian guards Lucy was considering her course of action. No point in visiting her over the weekend, she thought. I’ve still got quite a few pages of testimony to go through and I’m still waiting for the rest of the prosecution evidence. I’ll just leave her in her cell till Monday morning and then see if I can get any more information before I go and see her.
Each hour felt like a year to Tracey and even though she had only been in prison for two days now it felt more like a life sentence. She knew that her new life consisted of working in the quarry breaking stones, being raped or sexually abused by the guards and frequently being whipped by the overseers for ‘laziness’ but unable to escape her nightmare. Will I ever get out of this hell-hole, she wondered? Will Lucy be able to persuade Judge Chambers that I’m not a whore and that there’s been a terrible mistake?

[Marcellomco]

16)
There was one aspect of Nina’s plan that she had overlooked. John, believing that Tracey was naked, handcuffed, shackled and gagged in her holding cell, was curious to know why she had become a whore and yet why she was so prim and proper with him.
Not long after Nina’s departure the cell door opened. The policeman in charge recognised John Chambers at once.
‘Oh, Mr. John. You come to visit this cunt?’
‘Yes, I have,’ John Chambers smiled. ‘I want to talk to her for a while. You can close the door behind you – I’ve got the keys to the cell.’
Theresa became nervous when she saw John enter the cell. She recognised him from the picture Nina had shown her and wondered if she would be able to fool him.
‘Oh, John, it’s so good to see you,’ she said. ‘Please get me out of here!’
John listened to her and for a brief second was puzzled as Theresa had a slightly more ‘brassy’ voice than Tracey but he put it down to stress and being gagged for hours on end.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. You’ve been remanded in custody by my father’s court and it would be quite wrong of me to use our relationship to get you out on bail. Anyway, I didn’t know you were a whore!’
‘I’m not,’ said Theresa, playing the part Nina had prepped her up on. ‘It was Lucy’s idea to volunteer me as a prostitute for her mock trial. That’s how I came to end up in here.’
‘A likely story! I saw how you were dressed in court and you looked every inch like a whore. Though I must admit you’re showing even more flesh now than you were then!’
‘Please, John, please, just help me. I don’t know how to make you believe me but I’ve never been a prostitute and the whole thing was just doing a favour for Lucy.’
‘Well, Nina says there’s hard evidence against you and that you’ve got previous convictions for prostitution. Anyway, even if I wanted to release you I couldn’t. You’ll just have to stay here till your trial comes up on Friday.’
Theresa tried to express horror and mystification with the look she gave him.
‘What do you mean, even if you wanted to release me? Surely you want to release me, John?’
‘Not necessarily,’ he grinned. ‘You’re a nice girl, Tracey, with a great body and you’re very pretty too. But I think you’re far too conservative. Now I’m going to ask you a few questions and how you answer will influence how I react towards you.’
‘OK.’
‘Have you ever been raped?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever fantasised about being raped?’
‘Well, sometimes.’ Theresa lied.
‘Have you ever been put into bondage or taken part in BDSM sex acts?’
‘No,’ she lied again.
‘Have you ever fantasised about them?’
‘Not much.’
‘Well, I’ve got the key to your cell and the ability to come and go as I please. So what I’m suggesting is that during your week – maybe ten days – of incarceration we explore those fantasies together. I would be your Master and you would be my slave. I would rape you and you would be raped by me. And I’d put you through some very strict bondage and discipline measures as well. At least you wouldn’t be alone and we could have some fun. Who knows, you might even find that you end up feeling totally fulfilled by it?’
Theresa wondered what the real Tracey would say.
‘Would it make any difference to me getting out of this cell if I agreed?’
‘Not for the first seven days, no. But your confinement could be made much more pleasant if you agree to my suggestions.’
‘OK,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll give it a try. But if I hate it then I’ll ask you to stop – and you will stop if I do that, won’t you, John?’
‘Yes, I will,’ he smiled. ‘But let’s make a start by you calling me ‘sir’ rather than John.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ Theresa immediately responded.
‘Well, no time like the present, I think. I’m enjoying seeing you naked, handcuffed and shackled and now I’m going to see how you respond to being raped.’
Theresa had been raped before by clients so she wasn’t unduly worried about what lay ahead.
John stripped naked and Theresa saw that his big prick was already hard and erect, ready for action. Now, she knew, he was going to rape her.
John pushed her up against the wall, Theresa still handcuffed and shackled. He grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard and bit her nipples. A finger found its way into her cunt and he gave a mocking laugh as he withdrew it.
‘You are a fucking whore, Tracey,’ he grinned. ‘Your cunt’s so wet you’d think you’d just taken a piss!’
Theresa said nothing and almost at once he was on her, thrusting his big prick hard and roughly up inside her cunt. He came quickly and laughed as she moaned slightly, faking an orgasm.
‘You dirty fucking slut!’ he said. ‘You really are a total whore, aren’t you?’
Theresa managed to fake a blush for his benefit.
‘Well, I shall be visiting you every day until your trial,’ John grinned. ‘Next time I’ll fuck you up the arse!’
Theresa pretended to look scared at the prospect.
‘Well, who knows, maybe my Dad the judge might give you a really harsh punishment for your whoring? So it’s in your interests to be nice to me so I can use my influence to help you get a lesser sentence.’
‘I understand, John,’ Theresa said.
‘Well, see you soon, slut! Dream of your coming arse rape!’
He left the cell and went away to ponder the course of the trial on Friday. Nina had already told him that Tracey was a whore with previous convictions and he had to admit that the ‘Tracey’ in the cell had seemed pretty sexually experienced. Maybe she is a whore and she’s been leading a double life all this time, he thought. In which case I’ll ditch her because of course I can’t have a whore as my girlfriend and maybe she deserves to be sent to prison for what she’s done.
Though Nina didn’t know it yet, the fake Tracey had passed the hardest test of the lot – being fucked by the real Tracey’s boyfriend and not found out.