From the back of the van, Joe stared at the city through the two, small back windows. He saw the van zip by where he was living a few days ago, and the apartment he once shared with Danielle. There was definitely a part of him that was happy to understand that she was still alive, but the pain of having that information, and feeling like he’d never see her again hurt worse than anything.
“I can’t believe they sent you here,” the guard in the passenger seat said through the caged opening to the front seat. “In my two years working here, I’ve only been here once, and it was to hand over another guard who beat her superior to death – I’d only heard of rumors where someone with a cock was let inside.”
Everyone had heard the same stories about the torture prison at some dark site, which had been set up to house mostly female prisoners who were not able to be detained in the federal system. It was another of those cases where the government took a good concept and went too far. As a part of the great shift, all crimes that were deemed to be committed by the superior gender against a member of the inferior one were made into a “petty misdemeanor” and punished by a literal slap on the wrist. Initially, it was viewed as a form of deserved retribution for women who had been abused by their spouses with weekly, public wrist slapping sessions held for women who brutally murdered their tormentors. This was meant to serve as a warning to the males forced to attend in showing them how easily life would go on if their significant other decided to end theirs.
To an extent, the enacting of this law was very effective. Crimes committed by males fell to nearly zero, with an occasional sexual assault, which was later nearly eradicated through the introduction of public executions for such an offense, being the outlier. The rise in female on female crime was unprecedented. The fact that many of these crimes pointed to the same wrist slap as retribution, led to rise of habitual offenders.
The mmXXiv Society, which was originally formed as group to convert males, not accustomed to being into a subservient role, into domestic slaves, needed to also discover something to do with those who just couldn’t be broken; and set up torture prisons on the outside of each major city. They had mostly used converted storage units to create these as it was found that more than 93% of these units were owned by males, and with the new laws that made them illegal. The society started by purchasing and reselling the contents, and then used that revenue to purchase the properties, creating a multi-billion-dollar holding business. They converted most of the properties into state-run, male housing projects where single labors had their wages garnished in order to cover their living expenses. The remainder were kept in tact, just as they were when acquired. For all intents and purposes, these appeared to be the same storage units they had at all times been; but rumors at all times swirled that these were the society’s ‘black sites’ – areas they created to carry out any activities they wished with no known oversight.
When the federal government contacted the society about using some of their so-called dark sites to house their recent influx of violent, female criminals, an agreement was reached and facilities were designated for use outside the city limits of each metropolitan area. In an effort to keep fears in the neighborhoods to a minimum, these sites were kept completely secret with fake “rehabilitation centers” set up in remote areas where these prisoners were said to have been sent.
As they got about 30 minutes outside of the city, he realized they were near the town he grew up, and as he noticed the hotel next to the storage unit they were pulling into, he knew it was the one where he previously had a a unit of his own. The driver rolled down her window, entered a code and the gate opened. It was completely silent, just as you would expect after midnight in a sleepy suburban town. The car was parked along the side and the two guards exited and walked around to the back.
One of the guards gave the now familiar command to get on his knees and turn away from them. When he complied, they both approached him; first reaching around the front to his mouth and filling it with a black ball gag. She next took out thick black leather mitts and put them on each of his hands, padlocking them at the wrists and then clipping them together behind his lower back.
“Okay, stand up cocksucker,” the guard who was previously driving the van snapped at him. “Let’s get you fully on display for your arrival.”
Once he stood up, she quickly reached for the same key she’d just used to lock the mitts, and used it to unlock the padlocks holding him into his strict chastity shorts. As they unfastened the belts and slid them off, his cock almost immediately rose to attention. Even with the extreme direness of the situation he was facing, he was powerless not to be aroused by the circumstances.
“You are quite the freak 6-1-3. Usually, if we get to this point, prisoners find themselves shriveled up, trying to hide, but you seem to be quite excited to be here,” she reached down with her black leather gloves hand, and stroked his throbbing cock as she spoke. ”If I weren’t convinced you’d explode inside me, I’d let my pussy swallow that cock right now.”
She traced her finger around the leaking head of his cock covering it in his own precum, then tracing it over his lips which were forced open with the gag. She then went through the same routine again, only this time putting it up to her own lips and licking it clean with her tongue, mockingly commenting on his sweet taste and how it would be widely appreciated ‘inside.’
“Okay, let’s go,” she completely went back to a much more serious disposition grabbing a hood from the other guard’s hands and pulling it over his head – the two of them followed by putting on black leather ski masks with eye and mouth openings, which completely hid their identities. “Let’s get him in there and call it a night.”
Each of them locked an arm through his elbows, and walked him out of the van, up to the automatic glass doors and into an elevator inside. He heard one of the guards speaking on a phone, and then felt the elevator go down; it just kept going. It felt like they continued moving downward for at least two minutes, and he had a feeling in his head similar to when an elevator rises quickly through a skyscraper. Suddenly it stopped. There seemed to be some discussion about removing his hood, but they decided to leave it in place. He felt a sharp slap on the shaft of his cock, which was still rock hard and pointing straight ahead seemingly leading the way.
Continued in comments (below)
NSFW: yes
As they moved ahead, there were a series of heavy metal doors that opened and then closed behind them. Each joined by a hallway with a cold, bare floor – that part he was sure of as he was kept barefoot to match his naked body. On what had to be what was the sixth time a door closed behind him, things no longer felt empty, he could even hear some sounds through the hood. One of his escorts came close and spoke in his ear about it being time to ‘put on a show’ while giving his cock a stiff, downward slap and then pumping it a few times.
They were in the middle of a large dormitory of about 100 of the most violent women in the area who had been convicted of a serious, violent crime and been deemed not even fit for rehabilitation. As his cock pointed the way to where they were headed, he felt hands all over; his dick, his balls, his chest – at one point, he even felt a finger violate his asshole. The women were acting like there was a fresh piece of meat paraded through, and they were starving lionesses. Finally there was another door opened and closed and it felt empty once again; it happened once more before his hood was violently ripped off his head and he could finally see his surroundings. He was in a room with one door behind him, and three solid steel ones in front of him.
“Okay, let’s play a game 6-1-3. Choose your fate, pick a door,” she mocked him, knowing that all three were completely empty solitary confinement cells. “One has a former professional dominatrix inside, one has a former porn star and the last one is empty. Time to choose how you spend your night here.”
He really struggled before choosing number two only for her to open and show him an empty cell, he had no idea they were all empty. Before pushing him inside and I clipping his mitts from each other, she pulled the hood back over his head, locking it in place. She pushed him inside and locked the door. His world was now nothing but darkness. He felt around and found a cot with a pillow and a thin blanket. He used a technique he was learned in order to quickly fall asleep. He was exhausted and wanted to get some rest – a big part of him knee that his ordeal was just beginning.
To be continued…