Chloe's Sentence

[fieldman]

Themes: prison, judicial, corporal punishment, humiliation, bodily inspection, non-consensual. Later in the series is mild w/s. Part 1 of 5 so far.

For Joan, who knows.

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Chloe sat in her cell, awaiting execution of her sentence. Her sentence had been passed in court: three dozen lashes of "the judicial cane" of which a dozen were to be "administered to the offender's genital region".

After the judge had pronounced that awful sentence Chloe had screamed out loud, /no, no!/, her mind swimming and yet blank at the same time with the numbing unfairness of what they were going to do to her.

The dock officer, silent and unsympathetic, had seized her wrists, handcuffed her and taken her out through a door she hadn't even noticed, set flush with the back wall of the glass-sided dock, and down the stairs to the waiting prison van.

When she arrived after an hour's drive, locked in the back of the van with only a heavily tinted window and minimal daylight, Chloe was nervous and fearful, sulking at the back of her compartment in the van.

"Step outside," said a woman in a plain grey uniform who had appeared at the suddenly open door of the van. Swallowing her feelings, Chloe stumbled to her feet and carefully stepped down, her wrists still cuffed in front of her and robbing her of her ability to steady herself fully.

The woman took her arm and marched her inside what was obviously the prison, a squat grey concrete structure that reminded her a bit of her student halls at university. Except, Chloe barely had time to register, these halls were surrounded by barbed wire and CCTV cameras on tall poles.

Inside the reception room Chloe's escort let go of her arm and began discussing paperwork with another uniformed woman behind the desk, giving the hapless prisoner time to take in her surroundings. The prison reception was about the size and layout of a doctor's waiting room. To the left of the outside entrance was the reception desk, looking entirely normal. But there were no rows of seats like a normal waiting room. Instead the room was bare, a dull and grimy grey, except for a black rubber strip running around it at waist height. There were no windows, only strip lights running along the ceiling.

"Chloe Butterfield?" asked the woman jailer behind the reception desk. Chloe nodded as the woman from the van left the building, the powered double doors opening and clanking shut as she passed through. No leaving that way, she thought.

"You've been sentenced at court but the correctional centres are very busy at this time of year," said the jailer. "You'll be kept here for a few days until they're ready for you. I'm going to take an inventory of your property and issue you with your uniform."

Panic rising, Chloe blurted out: "How many days? How long?" The jailer ignored her.

"Your bag" - Chloe's useless lawyer had told her to bring an overnight bag in case of the worst - "was brought in earlier and its permitted contents will be taken to your cell. I am going to log your personal effects and clothing now before you're issued with your uniform and given a medical check up. Empty your pockets for me."

Chloe pulled out her pockets. Apart from her phone, anything of value had been in her bag. She pulled her bank card out of her phone wallet as the jailer typed into the computer in front of her before sealing the phone into a clear plastic bag and putting it out of sight under the desk. Her bank card followed likewise. A tissue and an old receipt went into the bin.

"Take your earrings out, please, and any other jewellery," said the jailer.

Chloe waved her cuffed wrists uselessly. "I can't reach with these on."

The jailer arched an eyebrow and picked up her desk phone. "Hello, prisoner intake here... yes, I need a couple to help with... sure, thanks." She turned to Chloe. "Someone will be along to help you shortly and speed this up. While we wait for them we can go through your medical questionnaire."

Not knowing what else to do, Chloe nodded as her jailer ruffled through some sheets of paper and began filling them in by hand, murmuring to herself as she did. "Chloe Butterfield, age 22, height? 5' 9", weight... 9st 6lbs. Any allergies or food intolerances? Pre existing medical conditions?"

Chloe shook her head mutely.

"Good... sign here," said the jailer, thrusting the medical form across her counter at Chloe. The girl obediently scrawled in the box as a door next to the desk opened and two more guards came in, wearing the plain grey uniforms and stout black boots of the prison service. One was tall and slightly older than Chloe, with dark hair and a figure just beginning to turn chubby from too much good eating and not enough of the exercise she used to do, while the other was older, maybe in her forties, shorter and hard faced. Both guards' hair was tied up tight in buns.

The receptionist nodded to her colleagues as they entered. "Hi. Usual entry processing, I'm halfway through logging her belongings now."

The older guard nodded back. "Jewellery?"

"Yes," smiled the receptionist. The older guard turned to the younger one.

"You'll take the lead on collecting her personal effects and then I'll show you how we prep them for the medical."

Chloe began to feel very small and insignificant as the guards talked about her, in front of her, as if she wasn't even there. And she didn't like the sound of the medical. But before she had time to start dwelling on her thoughts the younger guard had stepped in front of her and fixed her with a steady gaze from blue eyes.

"Okay, have you emptied your pockets?" she asked.

Chloe nodded. "But I can't reach my earrings."

The younger guard eyed her prisoner's ears. "Okay, I'm going to take those out for you. Stand still please."

She moved beside Chloe, swept the prisoner's hair aside and began moving her ear as she checked how the earring was fastened. Chloe felt a tingle as the guard's breath caught in her ear but she mentally slapped the thought away. This wasn't sexy at all. As the guard removed one earring and placed it on the counter, moving around to the other side of her, Chloe saw the older guard was standing and watching the two of them appraisingly. The receptionist had gone back to typing on her computer behind the counter.

"Two gold earrings," the younger guard said as she bagged them up for the receptionist to log. Turning to Chloe, she asked: "Any other jewellery or piercings?"

That was when it hit her. Chloe had a piercing, a little metal bar, just above her pussy. Would they want to know about that? Did it matter?

The younger guard looked faintly irritated at Chloe's silence. "I said, any other piercings? You can't take any metal objects in with you."

Her face flooding crimson, Chloe whispered: "I have one more."

"Can you speak up please? What was that?"

"I - I have another one," croaked Chloe, her throat suddenly dry.

The younger guard frowned. "You can't take it in with you. Where is it, I'll have to take it off you."

Chloe felt her head grow lighter. She had never shown anyone other than her boyfriend and her tattooist where it was. "It's... under my bikini line. A bar. Piercing."

The younger guard looked to her older colleague, who shook her head: "Nope. She can't have that. You'll have to remove it. Give me a hand to bring in the gurney."

Chloe cringed as both helped themselves to latex gloves from the counter. Gloves? Was this the part she'd seen in all the prison films?
The younger guard pointed to a corner: "Just stand over there for a moment please."

Under the curious eye of the receptionist, Chloe did as she was told. The two guards walked back through the door and very quickly there was the sound of something heavy and metallic being wheeled towards it. Soon the hospital bed was in the middle of the room and Chloe was fixated on the straps she could see dangling below the mattress.

The older guard took her arm. "You're going to sit on the edge of the gurney, we'll help you to get up there fully, and then my colleague will lower your underwear and remove your piercing. Please be calm and relaxed and it'll be done quickly."

Relaxed?! Calm! These 2 - no, 3 - strangers are going to see my privates, Chloe screamed inside her head. Heart suddenly pounding, all she could say was "Okay," even as she was led to the gurney, turned around and sat down on the edge of it.

"Swing your legs round - that's it," said the older guard, coaxing Chloe into lying back on the cold mattress. Her skirt riding up, Chloe automatically shuffled her backside to tug it down, earning herself a scowl from the younger guard. Meanwhile, the older one had picked up two of the dangling straps from beneath the gurney.

"For your and our safety we're going to strap your ankles and waist down," she grunted, passing the straps around Chloe's legs, securing them so her ankles pointed outwards and passing another strap firmly over her belly button. As soon as she was done, the younger one reached forwards and lifted the young woman's skirt right up to her waist, baring her frilly pink panties. Furiously blushing, Chloe prayed they were still clean. They were clean on that morning but she had expected to get home and fling them off into the dirty laundry basket, not have 3 women watch as they were peeled off her sweaty, smelly nether parts.

The younger guard, wasting no time on politeness, slipped her fingertips under the waistband and pulled Chloe's last vestige of protection away from her body. While the 22 year old was no chubster, she had always been self conscious about her belly fat and the way her panties cut into her instead of sitting snugly. Underneath her underwear was her neatly trimmed pubic bush, the slender brown hair delicately covering her mound and outer lips. Within moments it was revealed to the guards as her knickers were pulled down to mid thigh, helped by Chloe almost subconsciously raising her backside from the smooth faux leather of the mattress.

Unable to look at anyone and with a rising lump in her throat, the prisoner screwed her eyes shut tight.

"Is this a screw on ball?" asked the younger guard. Chloe managed a quiet "yes" and then felt the guard's gloved fingers on her most private and sensitive place, parting her lips and pulling the piercing around. It was 2 small metal balls with a screw threaded bar running between them.

"I can't grip this," complained the younger guard as the gloves slipped off the surface of the smooth sphere she was trying to grip and unscrew, nestled between Chloe's pussy lips above her clit. With horror, Chloe began thinking this was because the manipulations so near to her clitoris were making her wet and aroused. No sooner was the thought in her mind than Chloe began to feel that tingle down there. Was it just nervous sweat? Sweat. Stress. Shame. All of these. Not that. No, no please not that forbidden feeling. And not what comes with - urgh no not comes, omg Chloe get a grip, don't panic -

"Did you say something?"

Chloe jumped, eyes suddenly wide open, causing the gurney to creak as her straps took the strain. The older guard was looking questioningly at her, causing a fresh blush to spread over the exposed girl's face.

"N- no, no I didn't," she stammered.

Still frowning, the older guard said: "If this hurts, you can say so."

Chloe nodded mutely, registering that the younger guard had taken off one of her gloves and her warm fingers were now busy pulling and spreading the prisoner's upper labia. Despite herself Chloe looked down and connected the invasive feelings with the woman holding her labia spread open, gripping the piercing and finally unscrewing and withdrawing it carefully from her skin. Despite everything Chloe felt her clitoris responding to the touches and stimulation, swelling behind its hood. Heart pounding, the prisoner felt her blush deepen.

The younger guard finally stood up and dropped the piercing into a metal dish with a loud tap, immediately passing back through the doors where the guards had pushed the gurney from. Chloe imagined she was going to wash her hands, to clean her own intimate wetness from her skin. To remove all traces of the dirty prisoner's vaginal area.

The older guard spoke. "Any other piercings or metalwork?"

"No, miss" said Chloe. Why miss? This wasn't school. Prison guards weren't teachers, why was she addressing them like schoolmasters?

"Alright, good," said the older guard. "When my colleague comes back we will let you down off this again."

Summoning up her courage, Chloe timidly asked: "Please can I pull my knickers up again?"

The older guard smirked. "If you want. We've seen it all before and you'll be getting your medical very soon anyway. Go on, lift your bum up." She pulled Chloe's underwear back over her hips, none too neatly, as the grateful girl lifted her backside from the gurney and let the material slide up and over her cheeks, hiding her private parts again.