Pentonbridge Pig

Chapter 22. New Day

Emily was still breathing heavily when they reached the small yard that she had come to associate with the exit from D-wing. The speckled cowshit that dotted her belly and breasts had once again softened due to the copious amounts of sweat she produced during the strenuous run. The stiff-plastic chastity belt she wore had held up remarkably well during the running she had been forced to do. It was uncomfortable to wear, as always, but it had not hampered her range of movement in the slightest. She stood obediently, aware of the continued scrutiny of her fellow prisoner.

She had noticed, many times during the run back to the prison, 412 staring at her. Emily had enough to occupy her just with keeping  pace with the cart, but 412 was much fitter and each time she dared a glance, she noticed the older prisoner staring at her. She had hoped it was just the strangeness of the chastity belt, but she was well aware that it was her chest that were the object of interest. Her bare breasts bounced wildly as she ran. Emily had never wished for a bra more then she had on that run back to the prison. Was it just her breasts, and their enticing movement or was it partly the fact that they were spattered in the excrement from a cow.

Guard Swanson stepped in front of the panting girl and looked her up and down, the disgust clear on her face. A sharp tug on their leashes got the inmates moving towards the prison, though Emily was quick to notice the slight change of direction. She had been taken to this spot before, she knew what was to come. In a way she was glad, to be hosed down before re-entering the prison would prevent her from appearing in front of more people in her current filthy state. No way she wanted Jennings to get a glimpse of her like this. The mere thought sent an icy spike of fear up her spine.

Emily's leash was detached from the common handle and attached to the same ring in the wall as the previous day, the chain pulled tight, forcing the still gasping prisoner to stand on her toes facing the wall. Her face was forced perilously close to the painted concrete bricks, breasts mashed into their cold surface. Her hands were free, but restrained like this made her feel terribly vulnerable. She couldn’t move away from the wall or protect herself in any way. It was all she could do to stay on her toes and prevent her collar from pulling painfully at her neck. This was not what she had expected and the confused girl looked plaintively at the guard.

"Pig you dumb fuck, don't tell me you are so stupid you thought you were getting inside like that," said Swanson incredulously. "Cunt like you is lucky you’re allowed indoors at all. I don't have time to clean you off, if you want to play with shit then that's your problem."

Emily watched Guard Swanson lead 412 into the prison, leaving her alone, leashed to the wall. She didn't know what to do, though there was little option for her, irrespective of her wishes. Her face was mere inches away from the smooth, painted wall of the prison, restricting not only her movements but also her field of vision. She could barely turn her head and was left staring at the boring white wall, her gaze frequently losing focus.

The naked girl wasn't sure what was going to happen or what she was supposed to do but her short time at Pentonbridge had given her some insight into the correct behaviour. Her hands had remained behind her back, the tight chain at her collar keeping her posture in the perfect attention position. There was no way she could get in trouble for that and no way she could prance as she was unable to lift her knees without hitting the wall.

Emily had no idea how much time had passed before she heard the door beside her open. She had waited patiently, though to do otherwise had not been an option for the restrained girl. At the sound of the first word spoken, Emily's spirits dropped. Guard Swanson had by no means been her favourite person in the world but she was preferable to the alternative.

"Pig, you foul slut, just what have you been up to," snarled Sergeant Mailer. "You were given extra duties to impress upon you the need for a bitch to focus on her work. What do I find instead?"

Emily paled as her leash was loosened from the wall and the sergeant turned her around with a shove of her hard black baton. Mailer stepped back, her hands imperiously on her hips, her dissatisfaction making the young girl quiver in fear.

"What is this all over those floppy sacks?"

"It is cowshit Sergeant Mailer Ma'am," Emily replied quietly, the colour returning to her cheeks.

"Pig you dirty bitch. Five strokes for indecency. You curse in my presence again and it will be ten strokes. Now pig I asked you a question, answer it properly and not like some gutter whore."

"It is cow faeces Sergeant Mailer Ma'am."

"Pig, I know you aren't smart enough to get yourself in trouble on purpose, besides such behaviour will not exempt you from any duties you have been assigned. So one can only deduce that you really are fucking stupid enough to involve yourself with faeces again, despite knowing it will lead to punishment. If you continue to attempt to indulge your perversions, it will do nothing but cause you to spend increasing amounts of time in room 303. Now pig, even with all your attempts have you been successful getting any shit in your mouth?"

"No Sergeant Mailer Ma'am," Emily whispered, knowing she would not be given a chance to explain.

"Speak up pig, you're not whispering in the ear of a client now."

"No Sergeant Mailer Ma'am," the restrained girl said loudly, careful to keep anything that could be construed as a disobedient tone out of her voice.

"That should let someone even as mentally deficient as you know that no matter how hard you try, you will not be successful. Such behaviour is not permitted in decent society. I can't even imagine why you would attempt it here. Well pig that's for Doctor Robbins. Right now, though, you are my charge. You better fucking hurry up if you are going to make it to the wagon before it leaves. On your hands and knees pig."

Emily dropped to all fours the moment her leash was released from the wall. The grass felt soft and luxuriant under her hands and knees. It suddenly seemed to her that her life had been ruled by hard surfaces since she had arrived at Pentonbridge. Even the pallet in her cell was not what could be called soft.

“Boots off, pig,” screamed Sergeant Mailer.

Emily scrambled to get the heavy boots off her feet. Why was she screaming like some mad woman? What had she done to deserve such treatment? No one could possibly believe that she had made a cow crap on her. She knew it was all pretence, simply to degrade her further, but the vehemence of the emotion in Mailer’s bellow could not be denied. Maybe she had her period? Christ, Emily thought, these bitches were sadistic enough at the best of times, what would happen when it actually was that time of the month. Her boots were off and pushed to one side.

A moment later a small black bowl was placed under her face, filled with the ubiquitous gruel. "Eat pig." Emily lowered her face into the bowl and began to eat with gusto. She was famished and her stomach had been rumbling ever since she had awoken. The tasteless gruel felt as if she was eating shredded cardboard but at least it was something to fill her belly.

As she ate, she could not help her body flushing with the heat of her humiliation. Being made to eat from a bowl, in  a yard, like some dumb animal caused the first inkling of a tear to form. Having Sergeant Mailer stand beside her quietly, holding her leash, made the situation even more acutely degrading. She was being treated like an animal, like someone's pet and it made her feel terribly small and vulnerable.

Emily ate in silence, consuming the thick slop as fast as she could. Her hands were not restrained, so why could she not simply have eaten with a spoon as she was sure all the other inmates had done for their breakfast. She quickly dismissed the thought. It was not for her to question why, that would only get her into trouble. If she was actually stupid enough to voice one of these questions she knew where she would end up.

Why was she having so much trouble with just accepting her treatment and doing as she was told? Always with the questions, she admonished herself. It had quickly been impressed upon her that she had no right to ask questions. In fact she had no rights at all, she was not even allowed to speak without permission. The level of control that others had over her weighed heavily upon her, always, but never more so than in situations like her current predicament.

Emily licked the bowl clean, coating her chin and cheeks with thin smears of the sticky mixture. The moment the bowl was empty it was whisked away, replaced by a similar bowl of water. Emily almost lowered her head to the bowl to drink, quickly catching herself before she had progressed more than a few inches. She had not been given permission to drink and had almost made a serious breach of discipline.

"Drink pig."

Emily noisily slurped the cool water. Right then, it tasted like the most delicious drink she had ever had. There was no way for her to drink with dignity, and any thoughts of modesty the naked girl may have had at that point were illusory at best. Emily continued to drink until the bowl was taken away. She remained kneeling, water and the remnants of the gruel dripping from her face. She was pulled to her feet by her leash and once again tied to the wall, though not as tightly as before. Sergeant Mailer then proceeded to spray her breasts, belly and face with the hose. The forceful jet of water was directed with particular attention to her breasts and face. The cleansing did not last long, just enough to thoroughly wash all evidence of the mornings filth from her body.

"Dry yourself pig, we aren't going inside until you are dry."

Emily immediately began jumping jacks, remembering her lesson of the day before. No way was she going to be stupid enough to touch herself without permission this time. The sergeant decided, soon after, that she was dry enough. She had Emily replace her boots and socks, bellowing at her to hurry. She fumbled with the socks, unable to stop them bunching around her ankles. She fumbled with her laces, wondering why the thin threads just wouldn’t go where she wanted. Somehow they seemed to have a life of their own. She couldn’t think with Sergeant Mailer yelling at her, the noise was bad enough but the terrible things she was saying, ugly vile things, made it hard for the poor young girl to focus on her task. Once her boots were fastened, Mailer tugged violently on her leash and headed into the prison. The pace the sergeant set as she escorted Emily back to D-wing had the young girl gasping.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the commotion from the other inmates entering the wing. She was on time, she would not be late. If she worked hard today, she might be able to get the first day removed from her sentence. It was something that she vowed to work towards with everything she had. Sergeant Mailer marched the semi-clean girl directly into the showers where she was directed to remove her boots and socks, again.

Her stomach churned, the loud grumbling lost amidst the sounds of the other inmates getting ready for the day ahead. The time had come for her to void her bowels for the first time. Emily did not count the incident at her indoctrination, she had no control over that. She looked at the inmates hurrying into the showers but knew that it was now or never. She still had no real choice.

"Permission to speak Sergeant Mailer Ma'am," Emily asked hesitantly.

"What pig?" Mailer snapped.

"May I go to the toilet please Sergeant Mailer Ma'am?"

"Pig you dumb cunt. Are we going to have to print a special manual for you with all pictures? No one wants to listen to some dense dipshit babble incessantly. The approved speech for an inmate is very clear. Ignorance is not a defence for misbehaviour pig, nor is stupidity, even when it is on such a grotesque level as yours. Ask properly."

"May I defecate please Sergeant Mailer Ma'am?"

"Hurry up fuckwit," snarled the sergeant.

Emily coloured at the harsh words but hurried over to the row of toilets. Two were free, the remaining bowls occupied by two naked women. She glanced at them fleetingly, trying her best to drink in the entire sight before looking away. She had not read her manual for the correct procedure for using a toilet and she needed to take her cues from somewhere, mindful, at the same time, not to be conspicuous in her scrutiny. The last thing she needed was to be accused of something disgusting. Each woman sat on the bowl, legs spread to shoulder width, hands resting on knees. Backs straight, of course. Emily sat on the bowl at the farthest end from the doorway, though it provided no extra privacy.

"Up here pig, sneaky bitch. Don't you try and hide down there. I am watching you, as disgusted as it makes me."

Emily stood up and hurried to the bowl closest to the doorway and the assembled guards. She sat down, spread her knees and placed her hands obediently on her knees, hoping and praying she had the position right.

Her bare buttocks had rested against the cold porcelain of the bowl for only a few moments when a resounding BLAPPFF echoed around the spartan room. Emily did not believe she could blush any more furiously than she did at that moment. The pressure the anal ring of her chastity belt put on her sphincter removed any control she may possibly have had. Her first fart was followed by two smaller, though no less noisome, discharges. Emily could hear the mumbles of disgust from the guards by the door and did her best to ignore it, failing miserably. The forlorn girl bit her lip to prevent a fresh flood of tears, humiliated by the functions of her body. She tried to tense her anus, to ease out the contents of her bowels as slowly and as quietly as she could but the tight anal ring prevented such a dainty endeavour. Try as she might the next few minutes saw a series of explosive bursts of foul smelling shit blast into the porcelain bowl beneath her.

Her bowels emptied and the last of her dignity lost in the process, Emily rose and reached for he single roll of toilet paper that hung from the wall beside the bowl. The paper was thin and course. Emily doubted it would be classed as toilet paper in any civilised store or household. It reminded her more of recycled newspaper, the resemblance only enhanced by the dull grey colour.

She quickly broke off two squares and carefully reached around behind her. She was acutely aware of the hawklike gaze of Sergeant Mailer. The slightest wrong move would land her in extreme trouble. Emily wiped as best she could, the stiff plastic ring making the task all the more difficult. After the third wipe she dared a look at the paper before she dropped it into the bowl.

She would need a great deal more effort to successfully clean her ass. The sloppy mixture she had expelled seemed to have coated everything liberally. Four more wipes and she dared to glance into the bowl beneath her. She was worried about filling the bowl with too much paper. This would have been no danger in a normal toilet but the bowls in D-wing seemed to be only half as large as normal.

"Right pig. That's it. Flush the toilet and stand in the corner by the showers," snarled Sergeant Mailer. "You’re a fucking human shitstain pig, and I won't countenance you contaminating any of the other inmates."

Emily flushed and walked dejectedly towards the showers, taking up position in the corner. She stood at attention facing into the room, thinking it best to hide the source of her shame from sight.

"Turn around pig, no one wants to see your butt-ugly face," snapped Mailer.

"Yeah we'd rather see your butt-ugly butt," interjected Guard Parkes, chuckling at her own joke. "Oh that didn't come out quite right."

All the guards laughed, forgetting Emily as she turned to the wall, burying her burning face into the corner. She stayed there, listening to the other inmates shower freely, remembering her first time in the showers: the lithe, naked bodies glistening under the spray, the soft breasts dancing with the motion of vigorous scrubbing.

Stop it, Emily yelled at herself, startled by her thoughts. She was losing it, that was the only explanation. She should have been thinking about the large negro woman who threatened her, or the shock she had received at the hands of Sergeant Mailer's baton, Boris. She was spinning out of control and her thoughts were beginning to make her question who she was.

"Move your fat ass pig," yelled Sergeant Mailer, throwing her brush into the showers. "You had better be quick, in five minutes you need to be in harness."

Emily dived for her brush and began to scrub her body furiously. The stiff bristles of the small brush caused her pain with every stroke. Her body was a mass of welts and bruises that turned what should have been an enjoyable part of the day, into a hellish nightmare. Despite the agony she caused with each scrape, she scrubbed her body clean in record time.

The only cause for concern that she had was her ass. The moment the sharp bristles stabbed into the delicate skin of her stretched sphincter she yelped, almost dropping the brush. She took a deep breath, steeled herself against the coming pain and scoured her anus and the ring of the chastity belt making sure not a trace of her own filth remained. Reading the manual last night, learning about the inspections that she would be subjected to, had a definite sobering effect on the young girl.

Emily ran out of the shower, gathered a rough towel, dried herself and shoved her socks and boots on in barely a minute. Her hair was still dripping and she knew there was water trapped around her chastity belt, but she had no time. She had to take the risk.

"Move it pig."

She fell in step behind Sergeant Mailer as she was led through the corridors. Had she managed to clean her body within the allotted time? At least the lack of abuse from the sergeant meant she had performed competently during her ablutions. Now she just had to wait until she reached their destination to discover if she had done enough. The thought of being late, of having yet another day of soul-crushing work not count towards the reduction of her sentence left her cold.

Emily took no notice of the route they took, too preoccupied as she was with the worries that plagued her. She never would have believed it but she felt her life was moving too fast. Her existence had become a blur, moving with breakneck speed from one degradation to the next. She was unable to escape the humiliation and she knew it had taken its toll.

"Through pig, now you are in Guard Lee's hands. I hope for a better report when I collect you, though I know my hope is in vain. Behave yourself spunkbubble."

Emily shuffled through the opened door and into a maelstrom of activity. She stood in a spacious open garage, the large flatbed wagon stood in front of her and the inmates of D-wing were frenziedly readying themselves for the day ahead. Emily watched for a moment, trying to make sense of the chaos, sighing as she knew that despite having already worked for hours that morning, her day had only just begun.