I was missing a cheap four dollar screwdriver. But it was considered a serious offense and I could be whipped for it. I knew he'd give me the choice between his belt, or reporting it to admin where they would sentence me to time in SHU solitary. Women are social creatures by nature - and solitary was a far crueler sentence than corporal punishment.
And when I was over - it wasn't over. He knelt down, softly patted my poor bottom, and gently rubbed in some sort of cream over the tender welts.Many of the women had been cloistered away in prison for years, and after almost three months of enforced celibacy, I was feeling very warm under the collar. If you had spit on me, I might have sizzled. I found myself involuntarily thrusting my poor backside out towards his hand. Prison was a weird place, an all-female society with a handful of strange men. Sure, he was a brute, a pig. But it had been way too long. I didn't care. I found myself welcoming his soft touch on my overly sensitive bottom. That bastard. It was certainly no fun being whipped. But the warm afterglow was amazing. I had to wonder if I wouldn't just go and loose another one of those lousy screwdrivers again.
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Now that's what I call a prettily whipped bottom, boys, grinned Stevens, as he lightly moved his hand over her bottom to feel the warm ripple of her stripes. By now, Miss Dean was beyond all modesty, and I thought she had ever so slightly thrust her backside out toward the comforting feel of his hand. I could only think of Virgil, describing the female Roman slave captives who had to be whipped in a similar manner to Miss Dean, before they would willingly go to their master's bed.
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a www.posercpart.com (adults only please!) fantasy illustrated story