The Jailhouse Blues Ch. 02

"Ma'am," replied prison officer Billie Jo.

Prison officers Cassandra and Cora crouched at my legs and quickly untied the cable-ties at my ankles. Having done so, they stepped up onto the circular-shaped standing-platform of the Wheel of Chastisement and, crouching behind me and taking firm hold of my thighs they supported my still helplessly sagging body while prison officers Billie Jo and Louise untied my wrist restraints. The Governor made their task easier by activating the retractable chain, lowering the overhead tubular metal bar to which my wrists were cable-tied.

By way of her assisting in this operation, the too-lovely-for-words prison officer Victoria stood on the standing-platform in front of me and circled her arms around my back in a weight-supporting bear hug. Thus embraced, she stared at my up-close, tear-streaked, pain-wracked face - pain, of which she was in no small measure responsible - smiling contentedly at my abject wretchedness. And, for the second time today, through the thin material of her prison officer's uniform pale-blue blouse I felt her nipples hardening in sadistic arousal.

Between them the five prison officers managed to manoeuvre my "wobbly" body down from the Wheel of Chastisement. And, still supporting my pain-engulfed, still sagging and ready-to-collapse body, they duly presented me to the patiently waiting prison officer Bella Donna.

Thus held up before her, I looked into prison officer Bella Donna's implacable ice-blue eyes.

There was no pity, in the eyes of my conqueror. No compassion, in the eyes of my nemesis. No mercy to be seen, in the windows of my mistress's soul.

No. All I could see was malice. Malevolence. Wickedness. Cruelty... And, despite the unspeakable, agonised anguish she had already put me through, I could see the promise of yet further painful vengeance, in the long-term.

"On your knees, prisoner Lightwood!" ordered Governor Meredith Monroe. "Show due propriety! You will respectfully lower your eyes, upon officer Bella Donna's feet!"

This was no time for foolish bravado. The time for that - if there ever was a time - was long past.

I did as I was told. I was in a world of pain, and I didn't need any more.

I didn't want any more splendidly-delivered, gold-medal-standard barefoot kicks to my already tortured testicles.

I didn't want any more no-holding-back strokes of the cane to my already badly bruised and weal-covered buttocks, administered with "energy" and "enthusiasm" and "drive", by the cane-happy female prison officers of Greystone Prison.

I knew I was beat.

Prison officer Bella Donna - Poison Ivy! - had been right. Those ice-blue eyes of hers saw so much; she could read me like an open book.

I had been "stubborn". I had been "obdurate". I had shown "token resistance", to try and "save a bit of face".

But now it was time to throw in the towel. I'd made my "pseudo macho bravado" point... for all the good it had done me.

So I did as Governor Meredith Monroe had told me: I knelt before prison officer Bella Donna.

I was crushed. Humiliated. Hurting.

To say I was feeling sorry for myself doesn't come close to cutting it; doesn't come close to describing my feelings of utter dejection and despair. How have things come to this? I wondered miserably as I stared respectfully down at prison officer Bella Donna's feet.

But then, all fired up in temper prison officer Billie Jo grabbed handfuls of my hair and pulled my head down to the floor at prison officer Bella Donna's feet. "Get down - and stay down!" she commanded angrily through gritted teeth. Slipping her right foot from her thin-rubber soled flip flop, prison officer Billie Jo then placed the sole of her bare, olive-complexioned foot on the back of my neck and head and pressed down forcibly, ensuring I did exactly that.

Exerting more than sufficient pressure to keep my head pinned between the sole of her right foot and the gymnasium's unyielding hardwood floor, prison officer Billie Jo gave me a small foretaste of the sort of subjugation that I could expect from her over the coming years... and the coming decades.

"Stay down!" she snarled with terrible, frightening hostility. "With your head on the floor, under my foot!"

And I didn't resist.

I didn't dare resist, as I felt the bottom of prison officer Billie Jo's bare heel forcefully pushing down on the back of my neck, and the ball of her foot firmly pressing down on the crown of my head. And I could even feel her individual toes; could distinctly feel the undersides of her toes and her five toe pads gripping the top of my head - gripping, with surprising strength. "So help me, prisoner Lightwood, I could..."

Even at the best of times, it didn't take much to get the irascible prison officer Billie Jo mad. And it was now blatantly obvious that she was struggling to bide her time with me. That she was struggling to hold herself in check... That she just simply could not wait, to make me pay for trying to expose her corrupt and nefarious "retaining" and "moulding" scheme to the Governor.

I had absolutely no doubt, that had the Governor not been present in the gymnasium to keep the lid on her violent excesses, prison officer Billie Jo would have started to make me pay right there, right then.

And I was equally certain, that none of the assembled prison officers would have done a thing to stop her, as she proceeded to wipe the floor with me. No. On the contrary: I had absolutely no doubt that they would all have applauded and cheered. Whooped and whistled. Laughed, giggled, tittered and chuckled. High-fived. Leered, sneered and jeered. And admiringly congratulated prison officer Billie Jo on giving me such a good and well-deserved whupping.

It seemed to take her a great effort of will, but prison officer Billie Jo somehow finally managed to find a way to remove the sole of her subjugating bare foot from the back of my neck and head.

Prison officer Billie Jo then crouched down beside me and grabbed a handful of my hair; entwining it around her fingers for a good, tight-fistful grip. She then roughly yanked my head back, until I was looking up at prison officer Bella Donna's face.

Like a queen, beholding the lowliest of brought-to-book, treacherous serfs, prison officer Bella Donna looked down on me.

I didn't want to look at her. I didn't want to look at the face of the woman who had just so cruelly and comprehensively brought me to heel. But I couldn't look away.

Her very attractive face would be very beautiful, I thought, if it wasn't so stern. If it wasn't so implacable. So unforgiving. So vengeful. So wrathful.

And if her ice-blue eyes weren't so intimidating. So dominating. So daunting... So chilling.

"You've got some talking to do..." prison officer Billie Jo told me, her voice rasping into my ear with open belligerence, "... to officer Bella Donna."

As if suddenly realising that she was holding onto a week-dead rat, prison officer Billie Jo then disgustedly threw my head from her hand, and stood up.

Still looking venomously down at me, prison officer Billie Jo finally slipped her right foot back into its pale-blue, thin-rubber soled flip flop, working its toe post into a snug fit between her big and second toes. She gave me one final, malice-filled glare, and then rejoined her assembled prison officer colleagues.

Governor Meredith Monroe then said, "Officer Bella Donna. Please proceed: prisoner Lightwood is all yours."

If only the Governor had realised what she was saying! How prophetic, were her words!

"Ma'am," said prison officer Bella Donna.

"Now, prisoner Lightwood... here is your choice."

At prison officer Bella Donna's opening words, murmurs of interest and anticipation arose from the assembled prison officers.

"You will now kiss my feet. You will kiss my feet, as you beg my forgiveness. You will kiss my feet, as you make your abject and sincere apologies to me for your many improprieties: Disrespecting me. Disobeying me. Defying me. Failing to stand, in my presence. Repeatedly speaking out of turn. Saying 'No' to me... In short: for failing to recognise my authority over you, as a prison officer - and so, by implication, disrespecting, disobeying, defying, and saying 'No' to every other Greystone Prison officer, too."

Sentiments of wholehearted agreement, and more anticipatory murmurs from the assembled prison officers.

"You will kiss my feet, prisoner Lightwood, in the understanding, acknowledgement, and acceptance of your status. And you will kiss my feet, as you make your promises to me: That from this day onward, you will be profoundly respectful. Unhesitatingly compliant. Unfailingly obedient."

"I think you've put it very well, officer Bella Donna," said Governor Meredith Monroe. "In terms that even such a slow learner as prisoner Lightwood can understand."

"Ma'am," replied prison officer Bella Donna.

To me, prison officer Bella Donna said, "So... there you have it, prisoner Lightwood. That is the first, of the two paths you can choose: You can now, in the presence of the Governor and my prison officer colleagues, kneel before me, and kiss my feet. Kneel before me, and kiss my feet, as you apologise to me for your many improprieties. And kiss my feet, as you then vow to me your future profound respect, unhesitating compliance, and unfailing obedience.

"And then, upon your having duly fulfilled all of these essential requirements, I will return you to your cell. Where, upon my order, you will unhesitatingly assume the position for Foot Service. Whereupon, you will then obediently provide me with the attentions you'd earlier refused me.

"Or...

"Exactly one month from today, we can do this all over again - another Ball-Bust. You'll go for another ride on the Wheel of Chastisement.

"But next time, prisoner Lightwood, your therapeutic treatment dosage will be doubled... You'll undergo not five, but ten, one-minute Rounds. You'll receive not five, but ten, barefoot kicks, administered by myself, to your fully exposed testicles. And you'll receive not just another sixty, but one hundred and twenty, cane strokes to your bare bottom, administered by prison officer caning-party.

"So... it's your choice, prisoner Lightwood... Well? What's it to be?"

Given the unspeakable anguish that prison officer Bella Donna had already put me through - and that she would be only too happy to put me through again; and a double-dose, at that - there was only one viable option open to me.

I had already made my mind up, though, as early as Round 3.

I had already thrown in the towel. I was beat. All that remained, was to admit the fact to prison officer Bella Donna.

The Ball-Bust, I was absolutely determined, must be a one-off, never-to-be-repeated experience.

I would avoid it, at all costs. Do anything, to avoid it. Anything.

Never, ever again, did I want to be put through such hell.

Such hell, as prison officer Bella Donna's barefoot kick 'Number 5' "grand finale". Her coup de grace, "little something extra" double flick-kick affliction.

On my knees, I looked up to prison officer Bella Donna's face... The face, of my conqueror. My nemesis. And now, my mistress.

Now, my mind was expunged of irrational thought. My head was all nice and clear. I had my thinking-cap on. At last, I had seen the errors of my ways. I'd been a "slow learner", but now I was seeing reason. Now, I was thinking straight - thinking coherently and logically.

The "therapeutic treatment" had worked.

I lowered my gaze, looking downwards again... looking respectfully downwards, at prison officer Bella Donna's feet.

And I started apologising, to prison officer Bella Donna.

And vowing.

And kissing.

* * *

Dear reader,

I shall now relate to you the remainder of that day's events.

The trials and tribulations of my first day, as an inmate of HM Greystone Prison, were far from over...

"Well, a most satisfying outcome indeed," said that lady of quality, refinement and class, Governor Meredith Monroe, upon my being roughly hauled to my feet by prison officer Billie Jo and the other prison officers who had escorted me down to the gymnasium.

"I think it is plain to see, officers, that the Wheel of Chastisement has served its purpose, and has once again proved to be a sure cure for prisoners' defiance. From the looks of prisoner Lightwood, I think we can be confident that he is now thinking straight - thinking coherently and logically."

Prison officer Bella Donna replied, "Sometimes, ma'am, caning alone is insufficient to bring prisoners to heel. You can cane the living daylights out of some of them; make one hell of a mess of their bare bottoms, and yet they will still resist, and refuse to assume the position for Foot Service. Even when you then administer some good, hard faceslaps, and verbally abuse them, too - which, on some prisoners, right, in-their-face verbal abuse can work surprisingly well - some prisoners will still continue to resist. Usually, their obduracy turns out to be merely a pseudo macho bravado, token resistance. A face-saving exercise. And a Ball-Bust usually sorts these initially stubborn prisoners out. Or at least, it does in ninety-nine per cent of cases."

"Yes... the One-in-a-hundreds. The exceptions who prove the rule, as it were. Hmph! I think we can safely say though, officer Bella Donna, that prisoner Lightwood is certainly not of that category of prisoner - I don't think I've ever seen a prisoner cry so much, at the taste of his medicine."

"Indeed, ma'am. In prisoner Lightwood's case, I was never in doubt that the Ball-Bust therapeutic treatment was wholly unnecessary - a huge overdose, as it were. I'd been confident that just a good caning, and a few of officer Billie Jo's good, hard faceslaps, supplemented with a bit of her own inimitable brand of verbal browbeating, would have been more than sufficient to bring him to heel. But prisoner Lightwood said 'No' to me. And, well, ma'am, I wasn't having it. I wanted to bring him to heel the hard way - the hard way for him, that is. But in his own best interests, of course. So that the lesson would be well learned - and so therefore well remembered. That way, he'd be much better off in the long-run. Let's call it tough love: he desperately needed to learn about propriety, where females are concerned, and I so much wanted to be the one to teach him. In fact, ma'am, I suppose I could go so far as to say I've decided to take him under my wing, as it were."

"Your dedication is highly commendable, officer Bella Donna. The prisoners here are fortunate indeed, and ought to be very grateful that there are officers such as yourself who take their best interests so much to heart."

"Thank you, ma'am. But actually it is officer Billie Jo, who should take the credit. Recognising prisoner Chapman as a slow learner who needed a bit of extra help in staying on the straight and narrow, she decided to take a personal interest in helping him along with his rehabilitation. And so she took him under her own wing. I draw my inspiration from her example."

"Officer Bella Donna, I simply can't put into words just how proud it makes me feel, in knowing that such fine and dedicated - such altruistic! - officers as yourself and officer Billie Jo are on my staff."

"Thank you, ma'am. For my part, I always very much enjoy administering prisoners' correctional discipline. I find it highly gratifying, enlightening them as to their many improprieties, where females are concerned. It's what makes the job so wonderfully worthwhile. So incredibly rewarding. So absolutely fulfilling. I simply could not consider any other type of career."

"It is perfectly obvious to me, officer Bella Donna, just how much you enjoy your important work here. Just how proud you are, of your close involvement with this august institution. Just how gratifying it is, to you, when you achieve your desired results. That you derive tremendous job-satisfaction from your laudable achievements, is plain to see. And it heartens me no end to see it."

"Ma'am, as you yourself know perfectly well, there's nothing quite like seeing a prisoner's moment of mental transition. That moment of transformation, when you know for a certain fact that you have just expunged irrational thought from his mind. That moment, when you know indisputably that you have succeeded in clearing his head, and got him to finally see reason. That thrillingly satisfying moment of achievement, ma'am, such as just now, with prisoner Lightwood, when you see the scales fall from his eyes, and you know you have succeeded brilliantly in what you set out to do: getting him to think straight - think coherently and logically. That moment, when you know beyond doubt that you have removed the word 'No' from his vocabulary, in so far as it pertains to prison officers - and, in doing so, thereby opening up the pathway to ensuring his future respect and obedience to all females."

"Indeed, officer Bella Donna. Quite right. It is indeed what makes the job so very interesting and satisfying, isn't it? So incredibly gratifying. And my congratulations again, on your own splendid performance! A truly consummate demonstration of ball-kicking. It was a joy to watch - an absolute pleasure! I especially enjoyed kick number five! There was a little something extra, wasn't there? A sort of double flick-kick? Talk about a coup de grace! It really sorted prisoner Lightwood out, your little grand finale!"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I bet the poor old One-in-a-hundreds see plenty of you, don't they, officer Bella Donna?"

"Practise makes perfect, ma'am. And after all, it would be foolish in the extreme not to exploit them to the full. I know they really can't help themselves; that their unbreakable resistance to assuming the position and providing Foot Service for us is actually more to do with a phobic-like aversion than just willful obduracy. But all the same, it would be a terrible waste of resources, not to utilise to the maximum their limited usefulness to us."

"Oh, indeed! Do you know, officer Bella Donna, I'm beginning to see management material in you! But prisoner Lightwood certainly won't be saying 'No' to you any more, will he? In fact, kneeling at your feet, he has just avowed his future profound respect, unhesitating compliance, and unfailing obedience to you - and in a manner of such obvious sincerity that I have no doubt of his fully intending to abide by his promises. And no wonder! He knows exactly what to expect now, doesn't he, if he ever forgets his vows, and doesn't keep his promises to you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sure he won't forget, though. He won't slip into complacency. Because I won't let him. I'll be giving him plenty of little reminders, to make sure he doesn't. There will always be room for improvement."

The Governor then looked at her wristwatch and exclaimed, "Goodness, officer Bella Donna! How time flies, when one is enjoying one's self! It's well after six o'clock. Well, I'm going to the bar for a gin and tonic before I head off home - in fact, I think I'll have a couple, to celebrate the resounding success of prisoner Lightwood's therapeutic treatment. I'll ring my husband to come and pick me up in an hour. Any of you officers who should have clocked off work at six, who don't have to drive, and who would now like to join me in the bar - the first drink is on me. You can look on it as a bit of extra, staying-late bonus added on to your overtime pay. Bring your clock-cards to me tomorrow, and I'll sign them for eight o'clock."

"Ma'am!" said about twenty prison officers simultaneously.

The prison officers then began talking about ringing their husband or boyfriend on their mobile phones to let them know they'd be home late, and that they would be leaving their cars here overnight.