Overlord Ch. 05

Winston's wrists were shackled to the wall above his head. He was naked, save for a pair of ill-fitting prison briefs, and the door of his tiny waiting cell was behind him. He wondered how long they would keep him in this repurposed broom cabinet before actually getting around to the sentencing, and, once he was sentenced, how the accommodations would change. If it all. From what Winston had seen when Disciplinarian Beatty escorted him in, the catacombs beneath the Command Center were full to capacity with prisoners. "Too bad the van's all full," Beatty had told him as she stuffed him into the vehicle, "I think your butt could use a few more stripes." She slapped his bottom painfully. "Don't worry though, I'll visit you in jail." Well, he was in jail now. He wondered how long it would be until Beatty made good on her promise.

He let out a slow, anxious breath, shifting his arms as much as he could in a vain attempt to make his wrists more comfortable. It was cold down here. Not freezing, but chilly enough to raise goosebumps across his mostly-naked flesh. It was sunny outside. How deep underground must they have taken him, for it to be this cold?

A low, husky moan came from the other side of the wall. It couldn't be...no, too low pitched to be Julia. But still, another human being. Winston pulled at his shackled wrists, trying to find a crack or something that he could look through. It ended up being much easier than he expected. Just below head level, and a foot to his right, an exposed water pipe punched through the wall, and there was a centimetre of open space around it that went all the way through. Ruefully thanking Overlord for giving him such young, flexible arms, he twisted his body to the side and put an eye up to the peephole. It was dark on the other side, but he could see a shape in the middle of the room.

"Hello?" he whispered loudly, "Can you hear me?"

He saw a small movement in the darkness.

"Who is that? Who's there?" A female voice loudly whispered back. She sounded familiar. Winston closed his eyes and counted to five. When he opened them, he could see a bit further into the darkness. The room was larger than the closet he was locked in, much more of a proper cell. In the middle of it was a sturdy table or bench, and bent over it was the biggest, roundest, plumpest rear end that Winston had ever seen. Each of those swollen cheeks could have contained Winston's head nearly twice over, and the dark cleft between them was as deep as his hand. For all their size though, the cheeks only drooped a little bit; just enough to make them jiggle energetically as their owner shivered. It was a rear end that Winston, to his guilt, recognized instantly.

"Maria!"

The massive buttocks shifted again, and a bit of Maria's hair appeared for a moment at the side of the table. Winston realized she was bound in place too tightly to turn around; her legs were fastened to the side of the table with tight bands that constricted her thighs and made them seem even thicker and juicier where they puffed out around the straps. "Who's that?" She repeated. Her voice sounded strained, as if she was in pain.

"Ah, it's Winston Fisher. I'm looking through a crack from the next room. How long have you been down here?"

The bottom trembled again, each cheek bouncing separately before wobbling to a halt.

"I'dunno," she half-whispered a little more loudly, "they had me in a waiting room for hours. Just threw me in here a while ago. Owwww!"

She rocked from side to side against her restraints, and her ass kept rippling. As his eyes continued to adjust, he saw that she was totally naked, and goose-pimples were covering the visible surface. The way her legs were bound apart put her womanhood on full display - or would, if her lower bottom cheeks weren't covering most of it. Winston involuntarily sucked in a breath. He was finding it hard to stay focused.

"Ah...how did they catch you? Where?"

"I's at Farren Heights," she moaned, "sold some grass to an undercover pig. That O'Brien bitch had him buying from me for weeks. He called me to the park and they was waiting. Owww, these ropes! I need to...ouuuuch!"

Winston could now see in detail. The walls of Maria's cell were tiled. The "ropes" that bound her thighs were loops of synthetic fibre attached to the sides of the table. Finally, Maria's ass was absolutely covered in handprints. Winston's eyes widened. Red, pink, and tan mottled together in a kaleidoscope of color and pain. The tops and edges of those feminine humps were like an elementary school collage, with dozens of palm-prints finger painted around and atop one another. The middle parts of her bottom, the peaks that jutted high above her waist and hid her torso from Winston's view, those were completely red, and with uneven swelling from the mistreatment they had endured. The thickest, fattest parts that met her thighs were darker.

"Maria, you..." He realized there wasn't much he could really say.

"I what, Win?"

"You..." he thought quickly "I'm sorry they got you."

"Ow. You too."

Her huge butt wobbled again, and Winston realized she was struggling to reach back and rub herself. There were at least two sizes of handprint scattered around her ass, and for all he knew there were signs of a third spanker lost in the red miasma in the middle.

Is that what they've done to Julia as well? Winston suddenly found himself pulling harder at his shackles. He had to get out, had to find her...

The door to Maria's cell opened, and he heard her gasp. Winston put his eye back to the crevice.

"Citizen Maria Saldana," said the voice of Disciplinarian Charrington from somewhere to the right of Winston's peephole, "based on our records, your stay here has been quite some time in coming."

A tight male body in a blue uniform walked in front of Maria's head. Winston couldn't see as high as Charrington's face, but he could practically hear the smirk on it. Winston quieted his breathing. He didn't know what the Disciplinarian would do if he found Winston was watching, but he suspected that both he and Maria would be worse off for it.

"I hope you've been made comfortable thus far?"

"Chucha madre, asshole!"

Charrington clucked his tongue. "I suppose I didn't expect any better from one who, oh let me see." He raised the wrist with the computer on it out of Winston's view. "Twelve confirmed counts of contraband distribution over a one month period, thirty-eight counts of possession of contraband with intent to distribute, two counts of evading arrest, two counts of obstruction of justice, one count of public indecency, and one count of jaywalking. Hundreds more suspected."

"I got the public indecency charge when officer Perry made me run home without my pants!"

"There are proper channels for making these assertions, Ms Saldana. You will be given access to them in due time." Charrington's heels clicked against the tile floor as he walked out of Winston's view again. When he next spoke, his voice was closer to the wall. "Regardless, that charge is irrelevant to our current discussion. I'm here concerning your black market history."

There was a pause that seemed much longer than it probably was. Maria twitched a little on her table. Winston started to fear that Charrington had noticed the peephole, but then he heard the Disciplinarian open some kind of package.

"These were under your name in the evidence department. Chocolate, alcohol, cannabis, peppermint...were you planning to poison the entire city?"

Maria struggled against her bonds. Her bottom jiggled and shook with the vibrations. "You know that shit ain't poison!"

"Those decisions are made by Overlord, and are not for either of us to question! I shudder to imagine how many hospital visits you and your dealer friends might have caused!"

Suddenly, Charrington stepped up beside Maria's shamefully presented bottom and gave the left cheek a mighty slap. A white handprint appeared against the red skin as the buttock bounced like a spring. A second later, another, even harder slap punished its twin. Maria cried out, legs straining against the synthetic loops. Charrington just leaned forward, putting his torso partly in Winston's view, and gave her ass two more slaps. As the girl wiggled and whimpered, Charrington withdrew his hands and crossed in front of the peephole so he was to the right of Maria's ass.

"And yet, that hardly seems to be the least of it."

He bent down to rummage in his belt pouch. Winston clenched his teeth, eyes glued to Maria's heaving caboose. He knew he should stop watching now. He had already seen enough punishments to know what they looked like. His mind went back to that first afternoon that he walked to the store with Julia, and how he had thought the same thing when he'd witnessed Maria's public discipline then. But still, he watched.

"Soft Slider water-based lube," Charrington said, presumably reading off a label. "I understand you're an auto mechanic, but this hardly appears to be an industrial lubricant. In fact, there's only one possible use for this substance that I can think of."

His blue-suited body stepped up next to the table, and he rested one hand on Maria's naked buns.

"Violating the civic decency laws is serious enough. But intent to distribute?"

His fingers squeezed her right buttock, right in the middle, where it was reddest.

"Very, very irresponsible."

His hand moved up and down Maria's butt cheek. Clutching. Squeezing. He moved it over to tickle her left sit spot, chuckling under his breath as she gasped and wriggled. He patted it gently, and the flesh rippled. Winston closed his eyes, but he didn't have the force of will to keep them shut. He was hard, as hard as he'd been with Julia earlier that day, his prison briefs constricting his swollen member painfully against him. He couldn't help it.

"Perhaps," Charrington continued, still letting his hands explore Maria's sit-upon, "you haven't experienced first-hand the dangers your products can pose. So, I've decided to give you a little demonstration. Perhaps it will prove corrective."

Charrington bent out of sight for a moment. When he stood again, he was holding the open bottle of lubricant in his hands. He squeezed a dollop of the fluid into his palm and then, after putting the bottle back down, returned his attention to Maria's rear. Winston watched him knead and rub the ample flesh, smearing the cold liquid all over her butt. Maria trembled, probably from the chill, as he rubbed it on the crowns of her cheeks, covered the handprints around the edges, smeared an extra layer on the thick, meaty centres, squeezed and spread it onto the heavy, hanging undersides, and, finally, used his fingers to rub it inside the deep crevice between her cheeks. Her bottom was glistening, even in the dim lighting. The red and maroon patches were brighter and louder. Her ass was literally glowing now, as if its size and position didn't already make it the center of the room. Her toes curled and uncurled from the chill. Winston could hear her breathing loudly. It was all Winston could do not to gasp out loud himself; he was dying to reach into his underwear and free his painfully straining cock, but his hands were bound as securely as Maria's.

Charrington wiped his hands dry on his uniform. "A pity you don't seem able to learn any other way," he said. Then, he reached out of Winston's sight and pulled out one of the clear, rectangular paddles that all Disciplinarians carried.

He can't do that, Winston thought, horrified. Not after what she's already had. Not on a wet ass! As he thought that, Charrington raised the paddle above Maria's bottom and brought it down onto both cheeks.

CRACK!!

Maria screamed. Winston couldn't believe how loud the paddle was against wet skin. Maria's entire body was fighting against its bonds, he could tell. Her legs were thrashing. Her hair was flipping back and forth. Her huge, glistening ass, with the bright white rectangle burned across its center, was jiggling like crazy. Of course, nothing she did would matter.

CRACK!!

The next loud, wet smack. Another howl from Maria. Winston knew he was panting. He couldn't help himself. Maria's ass was so objectified, so vulnerable. Paddling it when she was positioned and restrained like this was like an insult, an obscenity...but somehow that just made it more exciting.

The paddle fell again. And again. And again. Maria's screams turned into sobs. Her butt wasn't red anymore. It was dark maroon, leaning toward purple at the middle. Charrington didn't care that her middle and lower cheeks had already suffered so much spanking; he concentrated his blows there, as if to prove that he could. The sparkling layer of lube exaggerated the reds and purples, making them a rainbow, a bright neon sign of lewdness and pain.

CRACK!

CRACK!

Just as it was getting too painful to watch, Charrington stopped. As Maria cried and Winston panted, he leaned the paddle against the table and retrieved something else. It was too small for Winston to tell what it was, in the limited light, but it looked round and plastic.

"This device is of a make I don't recognize," Charrington said. His voice sounded strained, and low pitched. "But it's...function...seems apparent enough. We'll find out who sold it to you eventually. But for now..."

He pushed a button, and Winston heard a mechanical buzzing sound over Maria's sobs.

"...you'll have to suffer what your customer would have."

With one hand, he reached under her right buttock and - with more gentleness than Winston would have expected, pushed it up out of the way. Winston couldn't see Maria's face, so he couldn't tell her reaction. From his vantage point, her shaking and crying masked all else. Now that he had a perfect view of it, Winston thought...no, it must be a trick of the light...he thought her vagina was glistening, even more wetly than the lubricant smeared on her ass. Had some of the lube trickled down her crack and onto her womanhood, or was Maria actually...no, it had to be Winston's imagination.

Charrington touched a finger to Maria's vulva, and this time her body gave an unmistakably stronger shake. Still using one hand to hold her bum cheeks out of the way, Charrington took the small, buzzing object and inserted it easily into her female orifice. The buzzing sound went quiet as her body seemed to suck the little egg-vibrator into itself, leaving a wet gleam on Charrington's fingers. He removed his hand, and only the very base of the device was sticking out.

"You see, now?" Charrington said, his voice even huskier, "This is what bad girls like you have been bringing into our City. And that's just the lowest setting."

Maria's sobs were replaced by other sounds. A strangled, formless whine, both distress and frustration. Her trembling was more intense. Winston's mouth was hanging open. But then, why should he be surprised? As long as no one came to check on the prisoner, there'd be no suspicion. The Disciplinarians' audio-visual recorders were notoriously unreliable.

He rubbed and petted Maria's trembling ass a bit more, and then retrieved the paddle. Maria seemed even more vulnerable, somehow, with the vibrator sticking so wantonly out of her.

CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!!

He went right back to the speed he had been paddling at before. Every time the paddle hit, Winston could see her oversized bottom flatten out and splash away from the plastic. Each time he swung again, her cheeks were still jiggling and wobbling from the last blow. Her wails and bellows were something else, but amidst the howls pain there were also groans of frustration. The lowest setting. It's stimulating her, but it can't make her cum.

After at least a dozen more licks, Charrington unceremoniously dropped the paddle. As Maria mewled and sobbed, the Disciplinarian picked up the bottle of Soft Slider and did something with it that Winston couldn't see. Winston was torn between arousal and horror. He didn't want to see what was coming next, but he also did. A decent, civilized voice in the back of his head screamed at him to think about how he'd feel if this was Julia being abused, if perhaps something similar was being done to her right at this moment.

He pulled at his chains again, so hard he was sure his wrists were bleeding. But he couldn't escape, and he kept watching.

Charrington had gotten his blue, skin-tight pants down, revealing a pair of statue-like thighs and a high, rocky ass that even a heterosexual male couldn't help but eye for a moment. No longer bothering with words, Charrington slid his hand under Maria's swollen, purple butt and did something to the device in her vagina. A muffled buzzing sounded in Winston's ears as the vibrator was put on what was probably its highest setting, and Maria's whimpering got higher. Then, Charrington walked up behind Maria, and Winston saw him spread her blistered cheeks apart as he pushed himself into her back door.

Winston didn't even know what expression he was wearing right now. He had never seen the Disciplinarians be so brazen. Charrington's naked lower body pulled back and thrust forward, his arms reaching forward to grab Maria by her hair or torso or breasts, he couldn't see which. He heard both of them breathing heavily, in rhythm, Maria's grunts at being penetrated replacing her sobs. Suddenly, Maria's legs stiffened against their bonds and her toes curled harder than they had from the cold, and her grunts turned to screams. Charrington kept going, heedless of her reaction, and the vibrator kept buzzing as he fucked her up the ass. Winston had forgotten himself entirely, captivated by the scene beyond the peephole.

"Well howdy there, studmuffin."

Winston jumped. He hadn't heard the door open. He looked over his shoulder to see Laura O'Brien leaning languidly against the doorframe, smiling at him. Her new uniform was a bright, fiery red, with luminous green Sergeant stripes glowing across her breasts. Was it just him, or did her new bodysuit somehow exaggerate those grapefruit-sized spheres even more, holding them up higher than her old Corporal suit? Her long, blonde hair was tied behind her in a ponytail, and her lipstick was as red as her uniform. Looks like Private Beatty is going to have to wait her turn.

"I thought you'd be happier to see me," she chided, grinning smugly as she stepped into the tiny cell, "it's been way too long."

Winston quickly gathered his wits. He looked O'Brien in her wide, blue eyes, refusing to be cowed.

"Where's Julia?" he demanded.

"I don't have everyone's cellblock memorized, hon. I guarantee she's in good hands, though."

She placed one of her own hands on Winston's naked shoulder blade and ran it down the ripples and musculature of his body. It tickled, and Winston shivered. Her fingers traced their way lightly, teasingly down his back, stopping at the waistband of his briefs. She felt his body tremble, and her smile widened. She broke eye contact to gaze where her fingers had gone, taking in his dark, naked back and big, underwear-clad bottom before looking him back in the eyes, as if daring him to be outraged. He was, but he would never show it. She gave him a quick, taunting wink. Challenge accepted, she was saying.

"I can keep standing here," Winston said, not taking his eyes off hers, "or you can throw me somewhere else. You're not accomplishing anything either way."

She waggled a finger at him, moving her body closer so that he felt her body heat against his skin. "There's no hurry," she said, moving her red lips close to the back of his head, "I read your file. We'll have plenty of time to teach you your lessons, Winston."

She looked down at his body again, and this time put a hand on his ass. She squeezed, stinging his cheeks where Julia had switched them, digging her long, painted nails into his sit spot. Winston looked down for a moment, but quickly brought his eyes back to hers. They both knew he couldn't fight back.