The elevator came to a jerky stop after a short, but fairly swift descent. The guards led Melissa out and into a small room, which featured an enclosure on the left surrounded by reinforced glass, and within it – a manned guard desk. The room ended on the opposite side with a large, incredibly heavy looking steel door, which looked more like an entrance to a bank vault with only a small, square, metal glass plate at eye level allowing to peek inside. Melissa’s guards briefly flashed their badges to the man at the desk. It was a silly formality since these two guards were mainly responsible for transferring prisoners into and out of the ICBG lockdown area. Protocol, however, was taken very seriously at the facility and even seemingly redundant activities were carried out to the fullest extent. The guard sitting behind a thick glass protective shield nodded his head and pressed a button on the desk. A series of heavy but crisp metallic sounds occurred in short succession accompanied by what sounded like little motors revving and doing their duty. The door opened automatically with surprising silence revealing that it was about a foot thick and attached to the wall by the means of mighty hinges.
The guards pushed their lovely prisoner through the gateway and walked into a much larger room in which Melissa’s eyes were stricken by a strange contrast. The left side of the room, from her point of view, looked rugged and industrial with another steel door leading closer into a certainly dreary fate while at the other end cement floor gave way to a lush blue carpet reaching up to a wall finished with shiny granite tiles and white parget in between each slab. The guards mercifully led Melissa towards the friendly wall with double wooden doors adorned by floral carvings and door handles in the shapes of lizards. After scaling the inviting entrance, the threesome walked down a bright-lit corridor with numerous side corridors emerging occasionally on both sides and doorways appearing even more frequently. Some of the doors were open and Melissa took a few timid, but curious glances trying to make sense of her surroundings. She saw what looked like an ordinary day in an ordinary though luxurious corporate office. Employees, mostly young and attractive men and women, were sitting at their desks and tapping away on their keyboards or conversing on their phones. A couple of times someone passed through the corridor without as much as taking a glance at our trio, apparently pursuing some unrelated business matters. Finally the group, moving rather slowly due to Melissa’s still getting acquainted with the shocking reality of having her ankles bound by leg irons, reached a door at the end of the corridor. The sign on the door read: “Director – ICBG unit 12”.
One of the guards knocked on the door and a few seconds later, without an obvious sign that entry was permitted, opened the door and pulled Melissa behind him. The other guard retreated and disappeared from view. The director’s room was another gloriously furnished piece of interior decoration. The room was brightly lit, with cleverly concealed sources of light and very peculiar screens on each wall, doing an excellent job of mimicking windows by projecting a coherent image of an elegant urban neighborhood. Without explicit knowledge of being underground, one might have been easily fooled. Melissa was led towards a large mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk, reclining in an ergonomic chair sat a man whose regular facial features, short dark hair, and broad shoulders gave him an appearance of casual yet undeniable authority.
“Welcome, Melissa.” – spoke the man in gentle, but firm manner, eyeing the chained prisoner as an expert car collector would look at a rare automobile, which he long sought to purchase yet can’t reveal the extent of his desire for fear of being price gouged. “As you might have guessed, I am the director of this particular ICBG unit and I also happen to be the superintendent for a couple of other nearby locations. My name is Adam Desquires. You are now in the administrative section of our facility, which you will rarely get to visit during your stay here and the main purpose is to get you acquainted with some of the basic details that you will have to learn to know intimately. It will not make your life easy because ICBG is, after all, a very strict prison, but following the rules will make your transition easier and allow you to settle into a steady routine.”
The director stopped to take a deeper breath and picked up a mug from his desk. There was a slight trace of vapor rising from the cup the smell of which betrayed a fine herbal essence. The aroma almost made Melissa’s legs buckle under her because she realized that she was desperately thirsty and dry-throated from being muzzled for the past couple of hours. What made things worse was that immediately upon entering the room she felt a deep sense of shame of standing in front of this handsome man in humiliating chains, which she could not take off. Her cheeks grew pale interchangeably with beet-red displays of embarrassment. “This is horrible” –she thought – “I wish I could just disappear or jump two years into the future so I wouldn’t have to through with all this.”
The director, finely attuned and accustomed to the trying first moments of fresh prisoners, noticed her predicament and motioned at the guard: “Take off her muzzle please!” The guard stepped up and with few measured maneuvers unbuckled all of the straps and pulled the muzzle off of Melissa’s face. The rubber insertable slid out of her mouth dragging a line of thickened saliva until it finally broke off. The guard cleaned up her mouth and chin with a tissue plucked from a box on the desk. Melissa was grateful to be able to close her mouth for a change and her immediate instinct was to utter: “Thank you very much.”
The man looked at her calmly with a subdued smile and said:
“Here’s where we can start your introduction to the rules of this place. You will be taken through a very quick transitional period during which your constitutional human rights will be systematically taken away. One of them is freedom of speech. You are not allowed to speak to any of the staff unless granted explicit permission. You are never to speak to other prisoners outside of specifically allotted times. If you need to speak to one of your overseers you may approach that person and stand at attention nearby, though no closer than two yards. Keep your posture erect, but your head down. You may or may not be acknowledged and allowed to speak – it is something that you will have to accept. The content of your speech, naturally, should be kept to the barest necessities. The only real exception around this tight speech restriction is reserved for situations of dire emergencies such as a health issue, fire, or any other significant danger. In such case you should obviously act to inform of the situation as soon as possible and to the best of your ability.”
Melissa was still absorbing the harsh meaning behind the man’s words when he continued in a somewhat warmer tone:
“I have no doubt that many aspects of your imprisonment will seem very extreme, intrusive or over the top. They are however, specifically designed to reform persons such as yourself; girls of great beauty whose easy glide through life has turned them from potentially very worthy human beings into manipulators and deceivers. You can be assured that the trying experiences you will face here at ICBG will be for yours as well as society’s long term benefit. Do you have any questions for me? I can answer one or two if they are quick.”
Melissa gathered her presence of mind and said timidly:
“I have so many questions, but now that you’ve told me all that, I’d rather not ask anything.”
“That is a great attitude, Melissa” – replied the man – “I’ve looked through your files and you are obviously a young lady of great potential, which is one of the reasons why I took the time to introduce myself to you. That will be all for our little meeting here. Officer Burridge will now escort you to a nearby room for a very quick orientation session and after that you will be taken to the lockdown area. Good luck Melissa. I’ll make sure to pay you an occasional visit to check how you’re doing.”
The guard, officer Burridge apparently, approached Melissa and much to her chagrin signaled her to open her mouth and accept the thick rubber shaft of the muzzle. He quickly buckled the straps tightly around her head and then led her out of the room. They only passed a couple of doors walking the corridor in the opposite direction before the officer turned to the right and opened the door labeled “Orientation and Assimilation Liaison”. Melissa was led inside the room where several rows of chairs were facing towards the wall to the right. There was a small pulpit in front of the chairs and a projector attached below the ceiling was casting its rectangular light onto a whiteboard screen behind the pulpit. Just as Melissa was about to settle down into one of the empty chairs, another man poked his head into the room:
“There’s been a slight change of plans” – said the man to the guard. “We don’t have anyone available for orientation at the moment so go ahead and take her directly to lockdown.”
“Ok then, you heard the man. Let’s go.”
Melissa and the guard made their way out of the administrative section and proceeded this time to the heavy steel door. The guard punched in a code on a small console next to the door and a yellow light started blinking above the door. The guard opened the door showing some physical exertion in the process, pushed Melissa inside, followed her in and shut the door behind them with a loud bang.
End of Chapter 2
Chapter 3 – Lockdown
The first impression of the lockdown area was predictably imposing. Bare concrete walls, floors and ceilings, and lights behind metal crates placed high along the walls illuminated a medium sized room. There was a desk near the entrance and a beautiful ebony woman, looking maybe thirty-ish in age rose from her chair and walked around to meet Melissa and her guard. The guard pulled out papers from his pocket and gave them to the black lady. She took the paper and started typing on the keyboard of a desktop computer.
“Prisoner P5237” – said the woman – “ok, everything’s fine.”
She glanced at and motioned towards Melissa:
“Come over here, you just need to sign this and you can be on your way.”
Melissa shuffled towards the desk and awkwardly took a pen presented to her by the ebony beauty. She had to position herself immediately next to the desk because the waist chain did not allow to move her handcuffed hands more than a few inches away from her body. Melissa quickly signed the document at the designated place all the while fighting back the tears of shame building up in her eyes and swallowing with difficulty feeling like she had a big lump in her throat.
“Proceed to medical” – ordered the woman.
The guard once again took Melissa’s arm and led her towards the door behind the desk. The next room indeed had a distinct feel of a medical facility. There were tiles on the floor and halfway up the walls. There were several curtain divisors and some elaborate equipment scattered around the brightly-lit room. One detail, however, betrayed that it was not a civilian walk-in clinic; a steel cage or cell was mounted in the corner, left of the entrance. The guard led Melissa to the cage, opened its door and gently pushed the girl inside. He picked a plastic box from a stack near the cell door and followed Melissa inside.
“Here’s what’s going to happen” – said the guard. “I will take-off your chains and lock you in here. You will take off your clothes including your underwear and shoes and place them in this box. Then just sit on the bench and wait for the doctor to arrive. Unfortunately you didn’t go through the usual orientation so you may accidentally get yourself in trouble with some of the staff, but the main rule is to just stay calm, don’t make any sudden movements, don’t speak without permission and always do what you’re told. Understand?” Melissa managed a meekly “Yes.”
The guard began to undo Melissa’s restraints starting with the muzzle and then proceeding to free her from her leg irons, handcuffs and the waist chain. He took all of the restraints and locked the cell door. He left with all the chains except for the handcuffs, which he hung on a wall-mounted hook near the holding cell.
Melissa was alone for the first time in quite some time and at first felt disoriented and apathetic. Already these past few hours did something to her as she half-expected someone to tell her what to do or where to go. Then she realized she was ordered to strip. There was little choice in the matter and Melissa assured herself that she had to take off her clothes during doctor visits before. Still she felt that it would be different this time. The society at large had very little information about the conditions at ICBG. There was a fairly strong rumor though indicating that prisoners were routinely kept naked for their entire sentences. Melissa found that unfathomable and no one so far confirmed nor denied that rumor since she was sentenced and brought to the prison. It was one of the questions she wished she had asked the director, but she found herself tongue-tied and the opportunity was gone. Reluctantly she began to undress. She took off the top, then slipped off her tight fitting skirt and stepped out of it as it fell around her feet. She stopped now, looked around, took a deep breath and reach behind to undo her bra strap. Soon her wonderful large breasts were displayed to daylight in a sight that no straight male could pass by without a sudden jump in blood pressure. Then she slid her panties down her legs revealing a clean shaven mons with delicate folds of skin forming a regular slit that so many men tried to imagine in their fantasies yet only two of her former boyfriends had seen and admired in reality. Finally, she stepped out of her high heeled shoes and placed her dainty feet on the cold, tiled floor of the cell. After placing clothes in the provided box, Melissa tried to sit down on a metal bench within the cell, but at first contact her buttocks recoiled from the cold hard surface. She decided to remain standing for the time being and anxiously awaited the promised doctor.
Indeed, only a couple of minutes have passed before the doctor trundled in carrying a pad with some papers on it, which he was browsing as he walked. He was a young and friendly looking man with an intellectual’s face. Melissa instinctively covered her breasts with one arm and her pubic region with the other. The doctor walked up to the cage door and took handcuffs from the hook.
“Melissa, is it?” – asked the doctor and without waiting for a reply continued – “Let’s get you checked out. Stand over here with your back facing the door and put your hands behind you near the opening.”
The doctor was referring to a small rectangular inlet in the cell door and Melissa futilely tried to prevent exposing her nakedness as long as possible by walking up to the door still with her arms covering strategic points of her body. She turned around at the door and only then put her arms behind her back. The doctor placed the handcuffs on Melissa’s wrists and tightened them gently, but firmly. He produced a set of keys from his white coat’s pocket and opened the door. The doctor turned Melissa around and led her out of the cell and into the middle of the room. He stood in front of her. Melissa once again was close to breaking down and crying because of the overbearing shame. She could hardly bear the fact that she had to stand naked in front of this fully clothed, strange man. The handcuffs locked behind her back only added to this insult.
“I am going to perform a few simple checks and tests to create a baseline for your medical history. You will be brought back here every couple of months to monitor how you’re doing health-wise. Now let’s see.”
The doctor started going through the motions of checking her pulse, looking down her throat, testing her reflexes, motion range and stiffness of her limb joints and so on. The most uncomfortable moment came, predictably, when the doctor started probing Melissa’s genital region with his gloved hands. He had her seated on a medical chair and put her feet in stirrups where he affixed them with leather straps. He proceeded to open her pussy with a speculum and peered inside first just looking around, then probing with his fingers. Finally, the procedure was done and he released Melissa from the chair.
“Everything’s fine. I’ll call the guard and you can be on your way”
The doctor went over to the door and called out. Soon, the familiar guard appeared and once again took Melissa by the arm. He led her back into the ebony beauty’s desk where the woman handed him a paper printout.
“Here’s her cell assignment.” – said the woman.
“Thank you ma’am” – answered the guard and took Melissa towards another door.
They walked into a corridor that did in fact have rows of cell doors on each side, but they did not stop at any of them and proceeded towards another elevator instead.
“These cells are rarely used” – explained the guard – “they are just overflow cells in case there’s no room on lower levels. This is level “A” and you’ve been assigned to level C. It’s not the worst that could happen. With your beauty I surely thought they would put you on level D. That’s tough life indeed.”
They took the elevator two levels down and walked out to find another corridor lined with much narrowly spaced cell doors. They stopped in front of a cell labeled C37.
“Well young lady, this is your stop.”
The guard opened the cell’s sliding metal door and Melissa was ushered inside a room that looked like the inside of a grey empty box – it was similarly featureless. Melissa was startled at a loud sound of metal hitting against metal behind her. It turned out that besides the solid door, there was an inner door consisting of metal bars and the guard just slid it shut.
“Stand by the door with your back towards me” – ordered the guard. Melissa complied and backed up to the bars. The guard took a single handcuff attached to a chain at his belt and locked around the chain of Melissa’s handcuffs. He took them off the girl’s wrists, however when Melissa started to move away he said firmly:
“Stop. Turn around and come back to the door. Put your hands in front of you.”
Melissa did as she was told and soon her hands were chained together again, this time in front of her body.
“You mean I am supposed to wear handcuffs inside the cell?” – asked Melissa incredulously.
The guard did not respond. Instead he opened the door and motioned for her to step out. Melissa walked forward. The guard took her chin in his hand and moved it up a little bit. Then he took a measured swing and gave Melissa a modestly hard slap on the face. The girl was too astonished that she forgot to start crying as she stood in wide eyed bewilderment.
“The director told you that you’re not supposed to talk without permission. The punishment for talking out of order is usually a few hours of wearing a muzzle or sometimes worse. Since you’re new, I’ll give it a pass, but don’t count on it happening again.”
With that, the guard pushed Melissa back into the cell and locked both the steel bars as well as the solid door behind her. Melissa’s confinement has truly begun.
Leave a Reply