Diary of a Jailbird

The whole time I had been wondering what this nasty bitch had been hiding behind her back, and as she finished her little speech she revealed her secret. It was like nothing I had ever seen, it was some sort of leather harness, a series of thick leather straps, dyed or stained bright orange to match the rest of the uniform. Attached to this network of straps was a black rubber piece, large, and shaped like a pair. The narrow end was set into a curved leather panel. I stare at the bright orange strap harness, eyes going as wide as saucers as Officer Wallace decides to explain what it is "This, inmate, is a state-approved oral restriction and punishment device. In other words, it's a gag for that smart mouth of yours." She positions the harness straps, the bulbous end of the pear-plug placed right against my lips, my eyes crossing as I stare down my nose at it. "Open up inmate. If you don't you WILL get the taser."

I whimper softly as I get the command to open my mouth, wriggling my hips as Officer Garner continues with my restraints. He slips a length of heavy steel chain around my waist, pulling it tight around my hips and locking it in front of me with a padlock, the chain locked tight so it doesn't slip down. He locks my wrist cuffs to the waist chain, using a short length of chain to keep my arms fully extended, but my hands locked against my body.

At the same time, Officer Wallace has roughly and unceremoniously shoved the pear-plug into my open mouth, the bulbous end forcing my jaws to spread open painfully wide as it's worked past my teeth. She keeps pushing, pressing against the back of my head for more leverage, the bulb popping past my teeth, allowing my jaws to relax somewhat as the plug is pushed into my mouth. I fight back the urge to gag, emitting a series of muffled gurgles as the gag is pushed in, the solid rubber mass plugging my mouth. I whine and mmph softly as the guard starts to buckle the harness straps, first pulling a pair behind my head and yanking it tight, the thick straps digging into my freckled cheeks as the plug seats itself deeper. I chew on the hard gag, letting out another soft mmph as I lift my eyes, peering at this cruel female guard as she brings the head harness up, making sure my nose is centered in the leather triangle formed by the face straps. She pulls the straps up over my head, yanking the two sets of buckles tight, straps digging into my face and head, ball forced upward as well as in. She smiles as she takes the chin straps in her hands, threading it under my chin, YANKING the straps tight. I gag, mmphing in pain as the strap forces me to bite down hard on the plug. Officer Wallace grins as she takes the final buckle and YANKS it tight, tightening down the curved piece, which I have now figured out is a super-severe mouthplate, specially constructed of a curved panel of steel encased in a layer of bright orange leather.

I lift my eyes and emit a soft, pathetic little whine as Officer Wallace stands back up. She smiles over at her partner Officer Garner, who has taken a break from cuff and chain duty to watch the gagging. I peer up at Wallace, my eyes widening in horror as I hear from behind me, "What? You can't get it tighter?" Officer Garner laughs, obviously having a bit of workplace fun with his partner. "I thought you said you were one of the boys!!"

I shake my head frantically, whining and mewing into my gag, my sounds muffled by the plug and the mouthplate, any noise from my mouth deadened to a mere fraction of my normal voice. Officer Wallace takes no heed of my soft pleas, giving Garner a punch on the shoulder. "Oh yeah! Well check this you lazy fuck!" She grins, bending back down, starting to go through each buckle once again. She unbuckles the strap, then gives the strap a YANK!!!, then re-buckles the strap. She goes in sequence through each strap on the harness, each strap being tightened down at least one notch further. I scrunch my eyes shut and start to cry, tears running down, dripping over the mouthplate sealing super-tightly over my lips and cheeks. Officer Wallace stands up straight again, looking at Garner "That good enough for you, chauvinist bastard?"

I whimper, barely able to be heard. I twist my head around and look over my shoulder, peering at Officer Garner as he inspects the gag. He tugs at each strap, finding all of them stretched around my head. He nods and shrugs "Good enough if you're my 95-year old grandma." He laughs again, grabbing my elbow cuffs, giving them an upward yank to pull my butt off my heels. I scrunch my eyes shut, air hissing sharply in and out of my flaring nostrils from the sharp pain shooting through my arms. I feel the cuffs of my jumpsuit's pantlegs being tugged upward a bit, then feel the cold bite of a pair of thick heavy steel legirons, much more heavy and strict than normal legirons. I hear the clatter of a long piece of steel chain, hearing the click of a padlock as one end is locked to the middle of the heavy hobble chain. The other end of the chain is locked to the junction where my wrist cuffs are locked to my waist chain, the chain long enough to allow me to stand, but just there to add more weight to the restraints and exert another level of control.

Apparently, this new state program pulls out all the stops. I watch helplessly as Officer Wallace walks back up again, this time holding a thick band of bright orange leather in her hand, a sturdy lockable buckle on one end. I lower my eyes, looking at this new surprise in her hand. She doesn't even bother explaining what it is, I only figure out what it is as she slips it around my neck. My eyes widen, feeling the thick collar press against my neck and throat as Officer Wallace tightens the buckle and secures it, using a small brass padlock over the buckle to secure it. I feel the squeeze of the collar of my neck, the collar still allowing my head to twist and tilt, but allowing for another anchor point with it's four rings, two each in the front and back, the other two anchored to either side of the collar.

I continue to kneel there as both guards walk away, my knees sore from being on the hard thick concrete, feeling the squeeze all over my form. I steal a peek at them as they walk onto their side of the counter again, Officer Garner grabbing yet something else, Wallace checking something on her computer. She looks up and gives me a grin. "Almost done inmate, then we'll take you to the Level 1 section." She shakes her head as she prints something out, placing it in my file. "You picked the wrong day to be a problem...you know how long it takes to get off Level 1? Oh, and Judge Carter will probably increase your sentence, Level 1s are allowed punishment beyond the state maximum."

I shake my head as I listen, my eyes wide, absolutely terrified. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was going home!!! For summer vacation!!! For three months all I was gonna do was sit around and be lazy and hang out with my friends!!! How'd I end up here, locked in steel, with this torture-gag strapped into my mouth. I start to squirm and fight against my restraints, hearing the clinking and jingling of all the locks and chain and cuffs, but naturally nothing gives even an inch. As a final insult, Officer Garner walks back over with a final length of chain, crouching down behind me. He locks one end to the ring at the back of my collar, then lets it drop down behind my back. He locks my elbow cuffs to where they meet this new chain, locks my wrists to it where they meet, and finally lock the end to the waist chain. He stands up, walking back over to his side of the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. "You know the one thing I don't like about this new program? Too much goddamn work!" Both guards share a laugh as they work on the final paperwork.

It was done. I was completely helpless. I was locked in a network of steel, all extremely tight, the immense weight of all the steel locked onto me acting as both an extra security measure and a reminder of how severely I was restrained. I sniffle softly, my whimpers and whines barely audible, coming out sounding like a muffled squeal. Officer Garner comes back, picking up my clothes and placing them in a bag, locking them away so I can retrieve them when my time is up. Officer Wallace walks up at the same time, holding a length of chain in her hand, a snap clip in one hand, a leather loop riveted to the other. She clips the leash to the ring on the front of my collar and gives it a tug, "Stand up inmate!!" I whine softly at the command, rising up off my heels, lifting one foot and placing it flat on the floor. I grunt into my gag as I struggle to lift myself using just one leg, wobbling as I try to keep my balance. I emit a groan as I slowly rise to my feet, all the chains clinking. I lower my head, eyes widening as I stare at my bare feet, locked together with just a 6-inch hobble chain between my shackles!!

Both guards laugh as they hear my panicked whines. Garner pipes in, "Get used to going slow inmate, those'll be on for a while." I shudder and squirm, looking down at my bare feet, sliding the toes of one foot over the top of the other, repeating the process as I stand there nervously.

Officer Wallace looks me up and down, then gives the leash a jerk. It serves a dual purpose, forcing me to stumble forward on my strictly-hobbled legs, and forcing me to bend down at the waist, shoulders slumped forward in a humiliating, submissive position. "We've got a batch coming in right now inmate, we'll keep you here and get you settled after we finish the others." She gives my head another ruffle, "You can be the perfect example to the new girls to keep them from misbehaving." She gives the leash another tug and starts to walk forward, forcing me to hobble and shuffle along behind her. She leads me a few feet to the wall, placing me in front of a series of height marks. She picks up a digital camera and takes a quick picture, uploading it to the computer, she inspects the final picture and grins, "Awwww, you look so good in that gag inmate. You don't have that attitude anymore, do you?"

I whine and shake my head, having totally regretted every single decision I made today. Officer Wallace takes the leash in her hand again, giving it a tug. I stumble forward again awkwardly, steel clinking noisily as she leads me toward a corner of the Processing room. "We need you out of the way," she says as she gives the leash a firm downward tug, forcing my knees to buckle. I yelp into my gag as my knees bang heavily on the floor, sniffling again as a tear runs down my cheek. Officer Wallace unclips the leash, and locks the front ring on a collar to a ring set into the wall. She walks away, leaving me there, chained, gagged, kneeling, sitting on my heels, facing the corner. I try to turn, but I wince as I'm jerked to a stop, the lock on my collar preventing me from pulling my head away from the wall, or allowing me to rise off my heels, locking me in position. I whimper softly, leaning forward and resting my forehead on the wall corner as I hear a door open, noise filling the room as both guards and new intakes enter, the intake process starting in earnest.

I really couldn't tell you how long I was kept like that, but I have since learned that two batches are processed a day. The morning batch, of which I was the first, is processed and held throughout the morning until lunchtime at 1:30, at which time the first batch is led off to their new cells. The afternoon batch continues through until at least midnight the next day. So, that being said, I had to kneel there FOREVER. I never figured out what time I arrived, but I'd estimate that I was locked there at least 6 hours. The whole time I felt the stares of the other new girls on me, too humiliated to even lift my head as I listened to their hushed whispers, all of them wondering, what I did to get locked up like this. The last new inmate finally processed, and none of them in the same situation I'm in, all the guards line them up, having cuffed, waist chained and shackled each one of them, 3-foot lengths of thin chain running from the back of one girl to the front of another. I lift my head as Officer Wallace unlocks my collar from the ring, clipping her leash to it and giving it a tug. I grunt as I rise back up to my feet, groaning as I wobble, my legs weak from being folded for so long.

Another tug on the leash gets me stumbling forward, as I'm led to the front of the room, right in front of the counter. My tall stature makes me fully visible to the entire room, all the other new girls staring at me. Officer Wallace climbs up onto the counter, starting a stern speech about how girls how have attitude problems are dealt with, and that I'm an example of what happens. My cheeks burn a bright red under the mouthplate crushing my lips and cheeks as the guard continues her lecture, again reminding all the new girls that they don't want to end up like me. The guard climbs down, tugging me along again, leading me to the back of this long line of new girls, locking the leash to the back of the girl's waist chain. I whine softly, forced to bend at the waist. I keep my head lowered, lifting my eyes every so often to peek at the girl in front of me, looking over her shoulder, staring at my predicament.

I hear the jingle of chains and the shuffle of prison sneakers as the line is slowly led out of Processing into the main prison. The line of girls winds like a snake inside the Processing room, and I only start moving a few minutes after the procession starts. I stumble forward, forced to hobble along with just 6 inches of movement allowed between my feet. I struggle to keep up, sweat rolling down my forehead as my nostrils flare. I make the turn into the main cellblock, a roar of laugher erupting as everybody gets a good look at me, hobbling along pathetically, clad in the bright orange ridiculously-sized jumpsuit, locked up to where i can barely move. I keep my head bowed and scrunch my eyes shut, trying to shut the sounds of the laughter out as I continue my hobble, bare feet sliding on the smooth concrete floor.

The process of getting the new girls in their cells takes a while, because the entire line has to be stopped, the new girl unlocked from the line, and put into her cell. Yeah, this new state policy requires that all the other girls have their wrists cuffed and ankles shackled, but nobody's restrained nearly as severely as I am. I make my way through the prison, hobbling through each of the cellblocks as the line of new girls is led in, stopped, and inmates assigned to the block are moved to their cells. It ends up with just me and my tormentor Officer Wallace again. She grabs underneath my chin and pulls my head up, forcing me to stare at her as she says. "As punishment for your continued insubordination and repeated disrespectful acts earlier, you've been sentenced to solitary confinement for 3 days." She chuckles, giving the leash another tug, leading me along.

Solitary confinement?!??! 3 days?!?!? I won't be able to even see anyone for 3 days?!?! I panic for a second, but then re-think my situation. Solitary confinement...that's not THAT bad, right? At least I won't have the other inmates laughing and taunting me all the time, and it's only 3 days, right? Power of positive thinking, that always works.

Soooo, wrong. So very very wrong. I continued my slow, tiring hobble as Officer Wallace leads me to a section in the far corner of the prison, then through a thick solid metal door, which leads to a set of concrete stairs descending into darkness. I hesitate at the top step, whining softly into my gag before another harsh tug forces me to step down gingerly, carefully stepping down on hobbled ankles as I descend the 30 steps or so, bottoming out in a narrow hallway, dim lightbulbs the only source of light, the sound of water dripping into puddles on the floor echoing through the hallway. I look around, chains jingling as I shiver, the air in this dark, well-insulated, deeply-buried space a frigid 50 degrees or so. Officer Wallace smiles at me, "Welcome to solitary inmate. Be lucky it's only 3 days, I could have said a week."

I shiver in the cold air, the thin cheap jumpsuit fabric doing nothing to protect me from the cold. I rub my bare feet together in an attempt to keep them warm, grunting as yet another strict tug forces me to follow, hobbling through the narrow dim hallway, chains jingling, my bare feet making splashing noises as i step into puddles of freezing-cold water dripping from the pipes above. I'm led to the very last cell in the hallway, the door creaking open on rusty hinges. I look inside, and wail into my gag as I see my new accommodations, a tiny, 5-foot by 5-foot cell, not even big enough to let me lie down fully in. A dim, yellow light bulb flickers in a corner, set high up close to the ceiling. No trace of a bunk, pillow or even a blanket, the freezing cold, wet concrete floor the only sleeping surface. A disgusting, foul-smelling toilet is in a corner, whether it even works is up for debate.

Officer Wallace tugs me into the tiny cell as I make my wide-eyed inspection, unclipping the leash from the collar. She reaches up again, giving me a demeaning pat on my cheek as she says, "Don't worry . Someone will feed you once a day, and a trustee will help you go to the bathroom at that time. And someone will let you out in three days, unless you piss someone else off, cuz then it can be another week." She grins, walking out of the cell, pushing the door closed, the lock slamming down loudly, securing me in my cuffs, chains and gag, locked in the tiny, freezing cold punishment cell. I hobble around the small cell for a minute or two, scrunching my nose as I take in the disgusting scent of the toilet as I near it. I slowly shuffle to a corner of the cell, dropping onto my butt, curling up into a tight ball in a futile attempt to keep warm in my freezing cell.

Welp...that's it for right now too Diary. If you're wondering how I'm able to write in you, I just got upgraded from Level 1 a week ago!! All the other girls get some time out of their cuffs to do stuff, Level 1s just get to dream about not being cuffed.

Anyways, catch you later!!

Jailbird Casey