Authors: Tabitha Rayne
“Wait,” she said, remembering her injury. She touched the cut, feeling the dried blood crusting into her hair and forehead. “Do I look all right?” She knew the question was absurd but was touched when Jane offered her comfort.
“You always look beautiful, Miss Deborah.” Jane gently tucked a matted lock of hair behind Deborah’s ear and smiled.
“Okay, then let’s go in.” A lump in her throat made Deborah’s voice crack and she took a deep breath before walking under Jane’s outstretched arm and into the lab.
“Surprise!”
Deborah stopped in her tracks as the governor nudged forward a sullen-looking woman with lank, straggly hair and thick, pouting lips.
“May I present your new assistant, Katja.” The huge, self-satisfied smile waned from the governor’s mouth as Deborah kept silent.
The atmosphere was thick with disappointment and rage. The woman she’d been presented with left Deborah cold.
“I don’t need an assistant,” Deborah hissed through her teeth, trying very hard to hold back her tears. Why was she feeling like this? She was a rational person; how could this have surprised and upset her in such a profound way? That bang to the head must have been harder than she first thought.
“Jane.” The governor spoke, breaking the icy silence. “Please show the new prisoner to her cell. We will call her back later.”
“I doubt that,” said Deborah, staring stonily out of the window.
When the door had closed, the governor strode right up to Deborah, pressing herself close with a steely look in her eye.
“Don’t think you can be smart with me just because you’ve come in my lap, prisoner 222.”
Deborah could smell the woman’s sweet breath but remained stiff in front of her. “I don’t know what you want me to do here. This lab is a joke. The samples aren’t real. Nothing is sterile.”
“I know.” The governor relaxed and retreated back into her heels. “I just wanted you to believe you could do it. We could do it.”
“I did believe it. Now I feel stupid.”
“You are most certainly not stupid,” the governor said in a soothing voice and reached out to touch the wound on Deborah’s forehead.
“Don’t.” Deborah pushed the woman’s hand away. “What do you expect me to do with that girl you sent?”
The governor looked unsure of herself, but only for a second. “Listen, I need someone to rehabilitate prisoners quickly and send them back out to work. We don’t have enough of a workforce to be keeping people in prisons. If you can make her sorry…”
“Are you asking me to do what I think you’re asking?”
“You seem to have a knack for domination.” The governor gave Deborah a seductive smile and looked her over from head to toe and back again, hovering on her breasts, which gave her nakedness away under her tunic. “I think you know all about the power you wield.”
Deborah was still confused. She was a prisoner herself.
“What are you talking about?” She straightened to her full height, trying to give the impression that she was not a trembling, quaking mess on the inside. “I am your prisoner. I have no power here. And besides, what you are asking of me—corporal punishment is illegal!”
“Exactly.” The governor smiled enigmatically and slowly played with a key which hung from a chain around her neck. Deborah had never noticed it before. “I want this facility to be the best of its kind. I want prisoners fully rehabilitated and back out into the world before any others. And I believe the only way to do that is to teach them a lesson the old-fashioned way.”
It began to dawn on Deborah why she was the chosen one.
“So if I’m the bitch smacking inmates around, you’ll get your results without dirtying any of your guards’ reputations.”
“I told you that you weren’t stupid.” The governor smiled a wide, excited smile.
“I’m no sadist,” Deborah hissed. “I will not hit or beat another person.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Only women who’ve been vetted and advised of their options will come to you. They’ll be falling over themselves to get in on the act. What would you prefer—to be locked up indefinitely in a corrupt system, or get a couple of weeks with a few expert lashings, then home free to the rest of your life? And besides, they might even enjoy it.”
“I don’t think I’m the one with the choices here,” said Deborah wryly. It seemed clear that she was not being giving the option for early release.
“I can feel what’s simmering under the surface here, prisoner 222,” whispered the governor, leaning in and pulling Deborah close with one hand clasped in the back of her hair. “I can feel your need.” With the other hand, she reached down between Deborah’s thighs and slowly rubbed the fabric of her tunic against her swelling lips. “There will be rewards. Many rewards. Help me make my prison the best.”
Deborah’s eyes fluttered closed as the governor gripped her hair more tightly and pulled her head back, exposing her neck. She loved the way it felt to have her throat so vulnerable. She imagined the gentle, rhythmic swell of her pulse just below the surface. How pretty. How delicate. A sudden rush of strength coursed through her; she flicked out of the hold and snatched the governor’s grip from her, reversing the power. Now the other woman’s neck was deliciously exposed.
“And it will be only those who want it?”
The governor nodded with her head stretched back. Deborah followed the line of the chain down past the governor’s collarbone and into her cleavage. Her breasts rose fully and retreated with every breath, arousal emanating from every pore. Deborah reached between them and held the key in her fingertips.
“Take it,” said the governor. “It’s yours.”
Deborah was not so naïve to think it might be the key to the front door but was intrigued enough to yank it sharply, breaking the chain and leaving an angry red line around the governor’s neck.
“Where’s it for?”
The woman tossed her head sideways to indicate one of the locked cupboards Deborah had tried to open the other day in her quest for equipment. Her heart sank. Now she was getting beakers and burners? The thought of spending any more time on fruitless, hopeless research made Deborah ill.
“Go on,” urged the woman, and Deborah let go of her hair, pulling a few strands out unnecessarily. She stumbled with the release and rubbed the back of her scalp. “Go on.”
Deborah eyed the woman suspiciously before slowly making her way to the cupboard door. The key slipped in beautifully and she braced herself for the shelves of dusty old beakers and holders to disappoint her.
The door resisted her attempt at opening it so she tried pulling harder.
“Push,” whispered the governor, which ignited a spark of excitement in Deborah. Cupboards didn’t usually open inward…
The door swung open at Deborah’s touch to reveal a darkened bedroom. Not an ordinary bedroom—it was strange, mostly due to the lack of windows but also because of its apparent opulence, hidden away in a scruffy concrete prison block. She couldn’t help but let her jaw fall open at the sight of the bed as she found the switch and turned on the overhead lights. They were dim and flickering but it was enough to show the faded grandeur. A four-poster bed piled high with cushions and furs enticed Deborah forward into the heart of the boudoir...wasn’t it every girl’s dream to have a ‘boudoir’? She took a quick glance back to see the governor eying her approvingly then pranced over and bounced onto the bed, bouncing around in the whirlwind of dust that billowed around her. The simple act of flouncing on a huge bed made her joyful and her heart leaped along with her as she coughed and spluttered among the motes.
Deborah’s attention was caught by the governor, who stood smiling in the doorway.
“Do you like it?” she asked, leaning against the door frame with a hand on her hip.
“Of course.” Deborah flopped back into the layers of bedding and stared up at the thick wooden canopy of the opulent four-poster. “But at what price?”
The air was stale but in a familiar, historic way—like sneaking a look in a grandparent’s wardrobe. For a moment or two, Deborah felt cocooned in time. The mattress dipped and she rolled to where the governor was climbing up beside her.
“So, you want me to punish women for being bad in this place?”
The governor pulled Deborah up from her prone position. “No,” she said, hauling her off the bed. “Not in here. This will be your bedroom.”
Deborah squealed inwardly and held the governor’s hand tight as she was led to another door.
“This is where you will punish bad women,” the governor said.
The door opened on to a very dark room.
“Wait here.” The governor darted inside and Deborah heard the scratch and strike of a match. The flickering flame went from candle to candle all around the room until it was glowing in warm light.
Deborah walked into the center of the illumination, barely taking her eyes off the little flames.
“Look,” whispered the governor as she crept up behind Deborah and breathed into her hairline.
Deborah’s skin bristled with excitement as she took in the sight. Another room, just as opulent as the first, with a beautiful chaise longue and walls lined in velvet. There were fur rugs on the floor and brass candelabras on polished wooden tables, as far as she could see through the film of dust which seemed to coat everything.
“What is this place?” she asked, stepping about cautiously and quietly fingering the fabrics. Oh, the sensuality of velvet under her touch! All her senses were on high alert—she was thrown back to the memory of playing hide-and-seek as a child in a distant relative’s house. The bubbling anticipation of being caught, the tremor of excitement from finding and exploring a new place, a place where she ought not to have been…
“Isn’t it magnificent?” The governor was obviously delighted with herself at sharing this secret treasure. “It used to belong to the various councilmen who ran these places.”
“Before they all died off…” Deborah said, vaguely trying to calculate how long it must have been since these rooms had been used. “So why aren’t you using this place?”
“Oh, there are plenty of other fabulous chambers squirreled away in this building. It’s quite the labyrinth of secrets. Besides, we only just found the keys.”
Deborah continued her study of the area casually swiping dust from the burnished furniture.
Beautiful.
Unable to resist, she carefully grasped the little brass handles on a drawer and pulled. It caught on the stiff runners and Deborah had to jiggle it from left to right until it finally released and opened. She managed to trap the giggle of delight in her throat just before it was audible to the governor. Reaching in, Deborah ran her fingertips over the stout handle and drilled out flat of a paddle.
My, my,
she thought, and slid her grip underneath it, lifting it carefully out. It was a real quality piece. Solid mahogany with carefully beveled edges—the spanking end had been worn to a perfect smoothness through what must have been years of usage. She smiled, and turned, keeping the instrument behind her back. A wicked feeling—the kind that was only induced by the governor’s presence, it seemed—washed over her and made her stand a little taller on her heels.
The governor was standing in the middle of the room, staring. Electricity crackled in the motes between them and Deborah licked her lips.
“So
this
is where I am to punish bad women.”
“Yes.” The governor stood still, her breathing the only thing that gave away her fear or excitement or both. It turned Deborah on. To know that this woman wanted to be dominated made her grit her teeth with aching arousal.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” she hissed, and watched, stunned, as the governor’s posture changed to that of meek obedience. “If you are not going to come here, I will come and get you.”
Heat spread from her abdomen to her sex and throbbed there as she imagined her move the second before she did it. She strode up to the governor and grabbed her by the hair at the nape, just as she had in the lab. Her breasts arched up as she yanked back. Deborah couldn’t resist and bent in to flick her tongue over the tightening nipple through her blouse. Wetness from her tonguing spread through the fabric, darkening it and making the lace of the governor’s bra visible beneath. Slowly, Deborah took her other hand from behind her back and lifted the paddle up into the governor’s field of vision.
A low groan emanated from the governor’s throat, and Deborah snapped her grip sharply. “Silence.”
She stood straight and began to pull the governor toward the chaise lounge. It was a thrilling feeling to be in charge here. Even though Deborah knew she was still the prisoner, to have this control here and now was a thing to be relished. The governor’s shins pressed into the chaise longue and Deborah released her.
“Lean over and grip the back of the chair.”
The governor did so obediently and Deborah let herself gaze at the rounded buttocks pressing out through the woman’s skirt. To her delight, she could see the tracing of suspender clips and stocking tops. How long had it been since she’d seen those?
Taking her place behind the woman, Deborah kicked her feet apart, enjoying the sight of her calves flexing and tensing in her high heels. How delicious. Placing her hands on the delightful rump, she rocked the woman from side to side and back and forth until she was satisfied with her position, then stood to the side.
The governor stiffened as Deborah brought the paddle up. She paused. Then heard it cut the air and smack the governor’s ass with a satisfying slap. The governor rocked sharply forward, her grip tightening and her knuckles whitening as she anticipated the next blow. Deborah struck again, harder this time, and was amazed at the effect it was having on her own sex. As the governor yelped in pain, Deborah’s pussy clenched and released in excitement. She imagined the governor’s pussy, all puffy and red with the heat spreading from her burning ass.
Five lighter strokes and the governor was mewling in ecstasy—or was it agony? Whichever one, it had Deborah fully aroused and her clit was pulsing with red-hot, feral desire. She dropped the paddle, stood behind the governor, and slowly began to lift her skirt. Gripping the hem, she allowed her fingernails to dig in just enough to elicit another yelp. The nylon was sheer and she couldn’t wait to reveal the stocking tops and snappers. The hem inched up. A line of striking white flesh was exposed. Deborah’s breath caught as she hitched the skirt up a little more. The governor began to rock and twist slowly from side to side, enticing her to go further.