Then there was the other side of SECFAC. The secret side that if known would explain that slightly dark sugary coating side of it. That was the side of SECFAC that Mandy was brought into. The convicted prostitute had been transported to the Sussex countryside under cover of night. Nothing to weird about that; with the timing of the trial coming to an end, the deliberations, the mitigations and the arguments of the prosecution that the young girl should be taken off the streets for a very long time, the day slowly melded into the early evening and then to the processing under the Crown Court complex. By the time the blacked out SUV containing Mandy, handcuffed to a female warder slowly rolled to a halt outside the secure SECFAC it was fully night time. The vehicle had rolled past the huge wrought iron main gate and followed the high walled perimeter all the way, down the front, then the sides of the expansive grounds, and then to the rear. The place looked deserted except for the occasional twinkling of lights in the main manor house building. Once the SUV had got around to the back of the building and in through a smaller electronic gate, there were no lights except the security lights that came on one by one as the van made its way to the rather un-grande entrance that Mandy would be taken in through. It was as though she were being secreted into SECFAC. Suspiciously like those in control were taking her in there but that no-one else should know, or find out. That should have been a cause for concern for Mandy. Maybe it would have been if she could have thought straight. She had known, during processing at the Court, that she would serve only three months of the six month sentence. But Mandy was an eighteen year old girl. Twelve weeks was like a lifetime. That, and there was that seething, seething, bubbling anger and hatred she was feeling for Judge Julia. Her mind was in a whirl. A melting mind. If Mandy had been asked at a later date to recall her journey to the centre, she wouldn't have been able to, such was the muddle of her mind. She wouldn't even have been able to recall the female warder she had been cuffed to, or how she poured her eyes over Mandy, and sat very very close making sure their hips graze and press against each other's. Or the cuffed hands, her own, and the warder's resting on Mandy's thighs, and the warder's finger slightly stroking the upper thighs of the girl. Really basically, Mandy would not have been able to recall being hit on by some dyke bitch. In Mandy's mind she was already thinking about her release. About her revenge. Oh if only she had access to that cunt Judge Julia she would give her the beating of her life. And that would be just for a start. Mandy should have been breaking apart from the inside, but already she was thinking about the future. Twelve weeks into the future in fact. Of course, at that point, at that precise point in time she could not possibly have known what was going to occur between her being taken into the SECFAC building, and via elevator down into the sub-basement levels, an then being released some three months later. She would learn, soon learn that she would need all of her determination, and grit and steel just to get through the next twelve weeks.
Yes, inside her mind Mandy was screaming. Oh god was she screaming. But it just would not transfer from her mind, from her brain and through her normal ability to speak or communicate, and into the outside world from between deliciously full lips. That scream remained muffled and debilitated behind an inflated rubber gag. Any gag applied to that pretty, even stunning mouth would be cruel, but this gag, the way it was designed, the way it was applied, was done so not merely for the physical ability of it to prevent totally the normal means of communication, but what it must surely have done to the mind as well god alone would know. The gag alone slid into the mouth and into the back of the throat like a rubber snake. Not by any means rigid, or stiff, but with just enough firmness to guide it to where it needed to be. In this case that was, it had to be slid down the centre groove of Mandy's tongue, using her saliva as lubricant and where that groove then toppled over into the back of the throat it slid down there as well. Only experts could apply such a gag. Only experts in the field of what for fucks sakes? Mandy was so jaded, so desensitised to the sex scene that she had stood, minutes after being unloaded from the SUV as a female uniformed officer had slid not one, but two fingers inside her intimate sexuality. Mandy hadn't flinched, she had looked directly at the much older woman as she has slid the fingers inside the turned them and twisted them in her moistness. As young as she was, Mandy had been expecting this kind of attempts at shock and awe. The woman, in return had pierced Mandy's eyes with her own, coldly, without any feeling. She had seemed to enjoy and lap up Mandy's stance almost of defiance. She was being defiant and yet at the same time she wasn't. Mandy had been used to doing obscene things in return for money. She had yet to be paid by another woman for services rendered and yet she had never discounted doing just that if the opportunity offered itself. At the time of induction into SECFAC her mind was in a whirl. Confusion, addiction, revenge. Another woman sliding one or two fingers inside of her just did not bother her and she just stared out the Officer, as a way of indicating that very thing. She wanted to let her know that she was not intimidated, or horrified by being invaded in this way. She was so used to being in control and controlling others for her own ends that she truly believed what she was trying to relay to the Officer.
“They're gonna have fun breaking you sweet thing.”
The Officer had spoken as she finger fucked Mandy slowly, but firmly up to her third knuckles. There was no pretence, or attempt to pleasure Mandy in any way. It was a deliberately indifferent sexual assault. The first sign that Mandy had lost all control at least for the next twelve weeks. That she didn't have any say in how she was being treated. Or the sexual services that were being taken from her. Mandy heard the words, took them in even and yet she simply pressed her pelvis forwards, into the ministrations of the slightly greying, yet well stacked Officer kind of trying to play her at her own game even with something of a slight grin across her full lips.
“Fuck you talking about Bitch? Who's gonna break me? What does that even mean you old hag... breaking me?”
For probably the last time for at least twelve weeks, Mandy, more than hardened by life in general, sucked at her teeth in that negroid street way she sometimes did. Right about the same time the woman withdrew her fingers from the hairless smooth slit and held up the slippery, juice coated fingers to her nose, taking a deep, deep breath as though she were testing the quality of some form of drug or another. She smiled at the young girl's aggression then flicked the very tip of her tongue over her fingers, tasting Mandy for the first time. Her face said it all. Here was another one for the process. Another one to break down. Mandy was one of the chosen ones; one of the ones not taken into the main SECFAC unit, but the other one. The underground one. The secret one. No-one witnessed the special ones going in because their futures were always far from certain. They may get out, and they may not. They may be kept in and they may not. They may well be disappeared and they may not.
The problem with Mandy was that because she had lived the way she had lived, selling sexual services, and seeing and being part of the grittier seedy side of life, she really did think that she knew it all and that there was nothing else to learn. She was really, really not even aware of the truly darker side of sexuality, or of the ability of the cruelty that could be inflicted by women on other women. She had laughed, in past at how some people, people who had lived a sheltered life thought that cruelty was when a man slid his cock down a girl's throat and made her gag. If that was cruelty then she could handle that and with interest. But Mandy had no idea. She really had no idea. The woman Officer looked at her watch, then did a full flat tongue lick of her fingers taking and savouring the taste of Mandy again before saying quite casually,
“Oh, in less than twenty four hours you're gonna have a different outlook on life sweet thing. Let's just say you're going to be grateful even being allowed to breath honey.”
The woman didn't say the words with venom, or even with a raising of her voice. And it was that casualness, that lack of emotion even given the enormity of what she was saying that made Mandy st
and back, her slit dripping from the finger ministrations, and think what she was being told. She tried to laugh it off. The comments even being lost slightly in the whole of the induction process. Mandy felt a chill down the core of her spine as she was relieved of her own clothes and given a basic uniform. That is just a tunic. No underwear. No hose. No high heels. She hated the place already. And no makeup. She truly hated the place – she never went without makeup! And yet there was an insidious feeling which could have been down to the windowless, air conditioned vacuum that had been created in that sub basement level. It was a soulless place cut off from the outside world. Nothing getting out and nothing getting in.
Mandy's eyes had snapped open as the first hiss of compressed air had entered the gag resting neatly on the length of her tongue and partly slid down the inside of her throat. That snapping open of the eyes had been hampered or debilitated somewhat though due to the film of clear latex that covered them. Like a clear latex film that distorted the eye balls as they opened and bulged. The eyeballs pressed against the inside of those latex lenses giving a eery, chilling feel to Mandy's otherwise huge, gorgeous eyes. Those eyes kind of stared out from inside a latex prison pleading, and begging to be released. But that didn't, nor wouldn't happen any time soon. Those latex lenses were inbuilt into the skin tight latex full hood she was wearing. She hadn't batted an eyelid at the hood either. She had done the fetish thing and had catered for the perverts of all perverts in her every day life, and she had enjoyed it. She thought! She had enjoyed it because she had handled it and because she had remained in control throughout. Everything was on her terms. Even when she was bought and paid for for a period of time it was on her terms. She had actually come to enjoy, and crave latex in its many forms which might have been just as well given how things were to pan out. Her hair, platinum blonde and perfectly straight, erupted from the crown of the hood and was held in a strict, high and tight pony tail. Mandy had done a little bit of a double take at the bizarre gag. Long, almost slippery to look at and with a huge penis end. The end that would slide down her throat. The penis head realistic in shape and size at the deflated end of the spectrum and with a small, centre hole where the pee hole would be in a normal living breathing penis. This hole, the open end of a tube that went right down the centre core of the gag and was in fact the breathing tube. There had to be a breathing tube in order to facilitate breathing. In order to sustain life. Mandy's life.
“Mmmmmmmnnnnnnnnggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
It wasn't really a decipherable sound that came from deep inside Mandy. That hiss of the compressed air and the bulging of her eyes, creepy. But in an instant, split second the realisation that her breathing was being shut off. The gag expanding, not only in her mouth but down her throat as well. The gag, a limp, though firm rubber tube with penis end in deflated form but then a fitted, almost made-to-measure mould as it was fed with the compressed air. Pressing into all of the crevices inside her mouth, behind her teeth, into her cheeks, pressing her tongue down to the bottom of her mouth. Distorting and stretching her lips to the maximum as her eyes bulged more and more. Those lips full and discoloured forming a stark contrast with the shiny black hood she was wearing and the slit of a mouth they were forced to protrude through. The walls of her throat being pressed against and her breathing being cut off. Panic! Pure unadulterated panic that she could do nothing about because of the bondage. Oh yes the bondage....! But the panic, and then a kind of reservation in her eyes, in those compressed eyes that she might, or could die here. But then adapting to the situation, something, like a resolve deep inside her kicking in and taking over. Realising she could breath through the centre tube and very slowly, what movement was possible in her chest area, slowly and regulating to that breathing and its capacity. That was another thing; she HAD to adapt to that breathing tube and what it allowed because it was not the full capacity of her normal breathing. What she would learn also was the fact that she would HAVE to keep her breathing regulated, not only in order to get the air she needed but also, if the system she was attached to sensed any rise in demand, in the form of agitation or panic, or if she tried to get any more air than she was 'entitled' to, then it would close down in increasing increments making it harder and harder for her to suck breath into her lungs. In order for her to keep breathing she HAD to control herself. Even though she had no control, she had to control herself. A cruelty in itself. The hiss of the compressed air seemingly endless and the noises from deep getting more distant and more distant the more the device was inflated and made part of Mandy's anatomy. What noises could be heard at the end of the inflation process were mere wet, gurgling whimpers that came from deep deep inside Mandy. If one was to take a close look, a really close look, and there would be those who would take that extra close look, apart from the obvious distortions of Mandy's lips, mouth and face, her neck and throat, also sheathed in skin tight black latex, was slightly thicker, as though her windpipe and throat were swollen from within. The absolute sign that her breathing tube had been compressed against by the inflated gag now deep in her throat.
The chamber, because it couldn't be called a room, or even a cell, was situated in the lowest level of the sub-levels. Sunk into the floor and accessed by a trap door and ladder. The chamber lined with thick atmosphere compressing steel and lead which served to keep anything out, and anything in. It was not a pleasant place. A place designed and built for the very purpose of taking an individual out of circulation and to debilitate the mind in general. A place which had despair dripping from the walls. Anyone descending into that place would not have a very good feeling crawling over them. Not a good feeling at all. It could have been that, despite the thick, lined cube that was the chamber, that faint, almost distant sound of dripping, was the very despair itself. Measuring fifteen feet by fifteen feet with not only the walls made of thick lead and steel mix but also the floor and ceiling. The trapdoor only operated via a winch system, it being so heavy. This was the sort of place that was used to break people. Break them completely, utterly and irreversibly.
Something that loosely resembled Mandy was in the centre of the chamber and suspended off the floor. Her down pointed toes were just inches from the thick steel and lead floor, strangely her toe nail gloss, a deep almost blood red was perfectly in tact and each toe sparkled and shimmered in the bright white light that flooded the chamber. It was as though those toes were stretching trying to reach the floor. Trying to make contact with a firm surface. But it was impossible. Her legs were spread wide. As wide as they would spread without the danger of the hips dislocating. Any bondage person would recognise this particular bondage as being of Japanese origin. Leaving nothing to chance and is designed as a complete and utter immobilisation tool so that other procedures, processes.... tortures could be carried out unhindered and with all areas, extremities and privacies easily accessible. Mandy looked to be suspended in thin air, but rather than that she was suspended in an intricate, micro-balanced rig which held her rigid. She was naked except for the hood, and the strange appearance of the mouth filled with gag. The shiny rubber hood tight to her features, so tight that she was completely recognisable through the rubber and then the neck of that hood clinging to her throat and neck like an organically attached second skin. The latexed throat and windpipe swollen from the inflated intrusion within. The whole head and neck 'feature' a stark contrast to the rest of her pale skin making it look like her head was an attachment, much like a doll. Then there was the distorted rubbered face. Mouth wide in an “O” and the end stopper of the gag, with the breather hole in the centre. Her lips, the same colour as her nails, a deep blood red. Stretched, smooth and adapted round the circumference of the gag. Already bulging cheeks just about inflating and deflating inside their rubber skin. The rubber staying stretched. Then there was that hissing of Mandy's breath, from the narrowest of tubes. The sucking in of air and then the hissing out again in a tortuously enforced, restricted manner. But the deathly stillness of the stunning
figure of Mandy; kept still because of that unforgiving, total bondage. Her pale skin that had taken on something of a deathly pasty white since her arrival at SECFAC. More so since her inception into the chamber. It had been two hours since that woman had slid the fingers up inside her and twisted them and then taunted her as she had sniffed them and tasted her from them. Two hours, although time, strangely, spookily had begun to mean nothing any more, even in that short amount of time it had ceased to be. Down in that chamber it meant even less. And as that meaningless thing, time progressed so did Mandy's resolve dissolve.
“Mmmmmmm nnnngngnnngnngngngngnngngngnngngnnngngngngnnnnnn nnnnnnnnnnnnngggghhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
It was the sound she WOULD have made if she COULD have made it. It was crystal clear in her mind. The sound was in deafening, hi definition audio, piercing every nerve ending in her entire body. Her arms had been brought behind her and bound at the elbows and wrists. It hadn't been a quick operation. Rather some Nazi Dyke Bitch (Mandy's exact thoughts initially as to the beast of a woman who was doing this to her) worked slowly, methodically, expertly. Using bands of industrial strength latex fed through a hand held tightening machine, like a packaging machine, and fed around above Mandy's elbows. The machine then being operated and the tightening process beginning. There were sounds coming from deep within Mandy as her elbows were brought together behind her but they couldn't really be pinned down to sounds of distress. They were just 'sounds'. One could hazard a guess that they were indeed sounds of distress, quite frankly though they could have been sounds of anything. Very slowly her elbows coming together until they touched; something that would have been excruciating and yet that pitch of noise, the noise itself, all muffled, and wet and distant just did not alter. The latex being heat sealed off then, the bonding complete and only removable via cutter. Writs similarly bound and tightened. Mandy then fitted with what looked like a made-to-measure corset but was in fact a steel belt that was the central 'secret' of her suspension. From either side, micro wires, strong high tensile steel micro wires were attached and pulled to the side and linked to a system of pulleys seemingly buried in the walls of the chamber. Those wires then left relatively loose as her legs were parted, latex bands around each ankle and short steel wires to the floor. At this point all bondage except for the elbows left loose(ish) From the wrist bands another chain, hooked into a pulley behind her. The Nazi Dyke Bitch relishing the sight and sounds of the distressed eighteen year old. She would have got those sounds for sure. She would have known what Mandy was suffering as her elbows were brought together. She smiled to herself and clenched her thighs as she thought of the pain and discomfort and fear Mandy would have, must have been feeling inside her rubber hood. How lucky she had been getting this position, in this establishment. The only requirements, knowing how other women tick. And an enjoyment of the infliction of sexual pain and despair. Taking her time to finger the remote and then doing just then. Sliding her thumb over one of the slightly raised buttons and listening for the distant high pitched sound of electrical motors whirring into life. Then the snapping up of the chains and the bonds. Getting Mandy all tight and immobilised. A slightly different tone from that distant sound inside Mandy as she felt her feet pulled further apart and as she realised, finally realised that the gag was not the full story. Nor the cruelly bound arms. And then tension at her waist as slowly, micro-slowly she was raised off her feet. As she was raised so her feet were parted and spread just that little bit more and so her toes pointed and seemed to try to stretch down. The middle aged Sadist almost dribbling as she looked at the girl in her charge, the one that once this process was over would be broken in ways probably unimaginable to those from the outside world. It was her speciality. Breaking young girls. That sound again as the wrists were brought up high behind her, forcing herself even in the suspended state to kind of lean forward in the bondage. In doing that, ample yet still developing mass of her breasts overhanging a little and swinging. For some strange reason her larger than average nipples 'pinging' to life, erecting and filling into engorged teats.
The Perils of Judge Julia Page 3