The Boarding School

A sort of take on the “No Child Left Behind” short story.



“Mum, please do I really to study here?” I asked the same question the umpteenth time as the helicopter moved closer to the island.

“Lucy, we’ve been through this so many times. Enough, you’re going to spend your time here.”

“But,” I protested then turn to dad. “Dad, please, I really don’t deserve this. Please…”

“You do,” My father argued. “Lucy, you’re grades have been atrocious across the past few years, not months. You need to buck up fast if you are to attend a university. This boarding school will help you.”


“That’s enough,” he argued over the whirl of the blades. As if to back up his argument, the pilot radioed that he was landing. Minutes later, the whirling blades came to a halt and the door opened. Immediately, I felt a huge gust of wind and I tried to hold down my long dark brownish hair and dress at the same time, lest I appear dishevelled and flash my self to strangers. We had taken a only few steps forward when a lone female appeared. She was rather tall, around six feet and dress in a tight dark blue skirt, heels, white blouse and blue vest walked towards us.

“Hi, I’m Amanda MacBurns,” she said, shaking our hands. “Welcome to this island and welcome to Verbessern boarding school. You must be Lucy Mehan.” I opened my mouth to reply but my mother quickly replied on my behalf. “Well, I’ll take her in from here. The schooling term is going to start soon.” My parents gave me a quick hug and with a wave, I was left alone. “Well, let’s go young lady,” the woman said, yanking my arm. Dragging my baggage and still trying to stop the wind blow up my dress, I followed her up a steep path and through an electronic gate. In front of mind was a medieval-like caste, with vines crawling up several corners There was even a moat and with one more step, I noticed that I was crossing a draw bridge. “It was look like a castle from the outside, but it’s much  more inside,” MacBurns quipped, moving faster with each step. Just as we moved another step, a shorter, younger girl in a school uniform–dark blue blazer, skirt, white blouse and black tie–came forward.

“Lucy, this is Sian Teddington,” MacBurns said. “She’s is a senior girl and will be your main guide for your first year here. Sian will take over from here and get your uniform sorted and and you into the proper dress code.” Without saying goodbye, MacBurns disappeared into a side door. Before I could formally introduce myself, Sian just annouced, “follow me” and moved off, leaving me to scamper quickly after her. After navigating through another few corridors, we reached a room marked, “uniform room.” I was instructed to enter and retrieve a uniform of my size. I easily found a blazer, tie, blouse and flat heels but just couldn’t find a skirt. “There’s no skirt here,” I called.

“That’s right,” Sian said. “Let’s go.”

“But,” I protested, “I need a skirt, I can’t a a full uniform without a skirt.”

“Let’s go,” she repeated. I protested again but just like MacBurns she yanked my arm. I kept on protested outside but she told me to shut up and literally pushed me towards another room. “Nurse’s office.” The sign read. “I’m not sick,” I protested.

“Get in, I’ll hold your luggage.”


“Just bloody get in. We don’t have all day; the session will be starting soon.” Still bewildered about the lack of a school skirt, I did so and found a middle aged lady in nurses’ uniform with the name tag, “Donna.” “Hi, I’m Nurse Donna. Do leave your uniform paack there and take off your dress and lower underwear please.”

“Wha..What?!” I exclaimed upon hearing the last few words.

“Take off that dress dear and your undies. Lower undies,” she repeated.

“Why?” I folded my arms in defence and moved back a bit.

“Dear, just do as I say,” the nurse said, getting up and advancing towards me.

“No, I don’t get this. First there’s no uniform skirt and now I’m in a nurses’ office for no reason. I’m getting out of…” before I knew it, the nurse was next to me and jabbed a needle into my arm. I immediately felt dizzy and collapsed into her arms. You would have expected me to speak or struggle but it seemed like not of my muscles could move and I couldn’t utter a sound. Neither could I hear a thing but my eyesight was still there. Helpless, I watched as the nurse unzipped the polka dot dress I had on, revealing my black bra and knickers. The latter was soon lowered and I would probably have turned red with embarrassment had I not been stunned. I was then lowered on some examination bed and strapped down across my torso. With my verticl position, I didn’t have a direct view but I could see the nurse holding some sort of device–it was an electrice shaver!!! Unable to hear, I just saw it move and she was shaving way my pubic hair!!! Please, please, I pleaded silently, this can’t be happening!!! Let me out of here!!!

The shaving stopped, or so I could see. Next, I saw her extract a tube and spread a huge blob of greyish cream onto her hands. Those moved away from sight but I surmised it was being rubbed against my exposed crotch. Let me out of this!!! Let me out of this!!! Next some weird whitish item appeared in her hands and I saw my legs and bum raised. Before I knew it, that item was secured over my waist. That wasn’t the last of it as something else was slid over the item. Then, she pricked my arm again with another filled syringe and suddenly my senses flooded back.

“What…” I yelled as she removed the strap, then looked down. “You…you placed me in a NAPPY?!!!”

“Please don’t shout here. Sian,” she called. “She’s all yours.” Sian reappeared and before I could protest further, both her and the nurse roughly placed my dress on. “Hey, hey,” I called after Sian as she dragged my bags towards another corridor. “Tell me what’s going on, why the hell was stunned and put in a nappy?” I repeated myself over and over until we entered what looked like a door. There were four beds inside and basic furniture and my bags were dumped on the only empty one.

“Get dressed in your uniform.”

“I want to know why I’m forced into a nappy!” I exclaimed again but only received a hand over my lips in response. “Listen, newbie, you follow instructions and keep your voice down. Clear? Now, get into that uniform before you spend your first day in detention. I’ll briefly explain.”

Seeing no other choice, I nodded and removed my half zipped dress. “All junior girls here are made to wear nappies, all the time and exposed. You don’t get the priviledge of a skirt unless you perform well in your studies and are on your best behaviour. Even after you ‘skirt’ up, you still have to wear a nappy until you graduate.” She lifted up her skirt to reveal a sort of similar nappy.


“Get dressed. And no coloured bra, white or beige only,” she snapped. Blushing as I exposed my boobs again, she continued, “You wear a nappy and it’s locked to you to prevent you from removing it voluntarily.” I looked down and realised it was a plastic pants that covered the nappy, and there was a padlocked on either side. “Only teachers, nurses and designated officials can remove the lock. You only get it removed if you need to poo or need  change. All dressed? Let’s go.” I followed her again, dressed in the blouse, tie, blazer, exposed nappy and locking pants.

To Be Continued.

As I moved behind the fast moving girl, I distinctively heard a plastic-ky crinkle. I had former heard such a sound when I visited an elderly home as part of a compulsory community work order. The second I walked through those doors, I heard that sound and saw several grey hair or hairless elderly people walking by at a snails pace, some escorted by staff. I was told that some of them had bladder weakness and needed to wear protection. Protection? I asked back then. Incontinence wear with plastic pants. What? I asked again. Nappies.

Now, I was in the same position as those old folks, wearing, well forced to wear a rather tight nappy secured in place by plastic underwear. “Sian!” I called after that senior girl. “Can you explain why I, we have to be…” My sentence was cut short as that taller senior girl spun around and cupped her hand over  my lips. “Listen Mehan, you keep you  voice down in this hallway and every part of this building. It’s not your home. You’ll get your answers soon enough if you bother to move.” With that she pushed me foward but trying to walk briskly was quite impossible with the thickness between my legs.

After navigating through corridors and staircases, we finally reached an enormous hall that was filled to the brim with other girls similarly dressed and nappied. The senior dragged me and the after a few more tugs, she pushed me down onto a chair. I tried to get comfortable immediately but I was further surprised as straps were buckled across my waist and ankles–I was secured into the chair! “Hey! What’s this?!” I cried, but the senior had moved away.

“This is hell,” I heard a voice next to me and found a blonde hair girl with dark blue eyes. “Hi, I’m Catherine, Cathy,” She instinctively tried to lift her hand to shake but it was naturally impossible.

“Lucy,” I answered. “This is suppose to be be a boarding school to help our grades not one to treat us like babies!”

“I know I was surprised as well. But the nurse was rather gentle and kind as she taped it on.”

“Gentle?!” I recounted the drugging and forced nappying.

“Oh, did you go through that? I obeyed the nurse and the senior.”

“But this is torture! This is humiliat…” my words were cut off again as some deafening voice called for silence. I turned to see an extremely tall beared man in long suit and tie step onto the stage. “Hello girls and welcome to your school away from all other schools. You girls are hear because all of you have  terrible academic grades and terrible behaviour. Well, looking at how you all are dressed now, I don’t think you’ll want to continue the latter any further.” The whole room burst into cries of protest.

“Silence!!! You girls are placed in exposed nappies for good reasons. As I was saying, you don’t deserve the treatment of female clothing if you  have been disobedient or rebellious. So at least for the next year, you all will walk, sit, eat, study and sleep with your nappies exposed. Nothing else except the locked undies will cover them. You will urinate in them until they are full or a staff or senior indicates that you should change. We will give you the dignity of defecating in toilets, but only at certain times. They rest of the time, you have to hold or use it. Only if you  show a strong improvement in your academic results and attitude will you be allowed to put on a skirt. Now, follow the seniors and staff and collect your necessary school items. Dismissed!!!” With that, Sian and that Ms MacBurns reappeared. The straps were automatically removed and with their orders, we followed them out, the crinkling sounds ever present.

To be continued

I followed the line of nappied students and it snaked into another room adjacent to the hall. Many students were gossiping amongst themselves as they lined up and I wait for a few seconds for someone to tell us to be quiet but nothing happened. So I turned to Cath and we exchange information about each other. I learnt that she has a long history of poor grades and failing subjects. Cath mixed up with the wrong crowd and had ended in juvenile detention twice. I told her the same history of terrible grades and how I skipped school and often came home late despite punishments after punishment. “This still doesn’t warrant being forced into nappies and plastic pants!” I cried.

“Quiet now, Mehan,” I turned to see a senior teacher pass me a bag and a thick folder. I opened the folder to see an extensive timetable with subjects. “What the hell, Physics?!” I saw my most hated subject appear many times on the table.

“Smack!” my cheek was stung with a huge smack by that staff/teacher. “Never say that again in this school, is that clear?” She bellowed in my ear.


“Yes what?”

“Yes, Miss. Sorry…” Bloody bitch, I thought.

“Stand aside there,” she ordered and I did so, rubbing my face.

“What subjects did you get?” That was Cathy and we compared our timetables. I got Physics, Mathematics, Geography and Art. She was to take Physics, Geography, German and Music. “Well, at least we are in the same classes for two of them,” I commented.

“I detest Music,” she whined softly, “why…”

“What’s this?” I pointed at a time slot marked in red. “Inspection time?”

“Could be when our nappies are checked,” she easily surmised. Checked? Oh my gosh..”Look, ‘poo time’,” Cathy  pointed at another read box, “they really want us to shit in the loo only at selected times.” What the hell, I thought. This is a nightmare…

“Follow me you two,” I head Sian order. “Folder under your left arm, bag on your right. And be quiet.” We both did so, and joined a line of students crinkling all the way through another lot of corridors and stairs. Finally, we entered a really brightly lit room. Sian ordered us to hang our blazers on the pegs and sit on different allocated desks. Catherine thankfully was allocated a desk next to me; I didn’t want to lose contact with her so suddenly. With my bag in a slot, I sat down and yikes! A strap came over my waist again. Before I could turn to talk to Cathy, a burly man came in. With a short introduction as Mr. Barnes, he bellowed for us to open one of the textbooks provided. As we droned through shapes and various forces, I started doodled but immediately was called upon by this Barnes. “Any one who doesn’t concentrate  again in my class will face detention or even punishment!!” he yelled.

Trying to focus on the boring and difficult topic, I suddenly felt a signal from my bladder. I had my last drink around two hours ago before I had sat foot on this island and school of torture. What was it? Oh lemonade or something. Damn it, in any other circumstance, I would have been able to get an excuse to visit the loo. But now I was locked in a thick adult nappy exposed for all to see. What’s worse, I was strapped to be chair and it didn’t seem like this teacher or any other teacher I would meet would let me pee normally. Damn it, I thought, what time does this silly lesson end? I started to cross and uncross my legs, hoping that it would hold my bladder. Instead it pushed the thick nappy harder agianst my crotch. I couldn’t hold it any further and the pee ame out, striking the nappy’s thickness. At sixteen, I had just peed in a nappy.

To Be Continued.

To say I was embarrassed was an understatement. This wasn’t some monthly period where I would stain my underwear. This was being into something that babies and people with no bladder control use not teenage girls. This was really enforced humiliation, bordering torture!!! Why oh why did my parents send me here? Was I really deserving of this form of punishment?

“…Over.” Was the word that broke my reverie and with a snapping sound, the leather strap holding me to the chair was released. Everyone around me started to pack up but I just sat there, still thinking about my urination. “Lucy, come on, I don’t think they like it if you are late for the next class. Lucy..”

I finally got up and Cathy came closer. “Did you…”

“Yeah I did. This is torture,” I whined.

“I know Lucy, but I can’t see any way out of it. Come on, pack up.” I did so and followed her out. As I did so, I didn’t really feel that much of a wetness around my vulva. Perhaps these darn thick nappies or what Americans call diapers absorb the pee well. Absorb the..I shouldn’t have peed in them in the first place!!!I shouldn’t be here!!!

My thoughts were interrupted once again as we were guided to some sort of canteen area. Sian and the other seniors ordered us to sit down and stop talking. As I did so, I realised that all the chairs and benches so far were plastic-coated or wrapped. What for since were already had plastic pants locked around us? “Whoosh!” Something was passed down towards me. I examined it–it was a wrapped up sandwich and some sort of drink. “Eat and drink up,” I heard one of the seniors call. I peeled the sandwich open and took a bit–yuck. It was some ultra-processed substance–I couldn’t tell if it was tuna or a farm animal. I tossed it aside and tried the drink. Yucks, Rhubarb or some sort of sour fruit. “Finish it all!” Sian’s voice demanded and I did my best to, nearly vomiting the detestable snack. Just as I got up and followed the line of girl’s I immediately fell my bladder signal again. This time, I just couldn’t hold it and once more I peed into the damn nappy again.

To Be Continued.

Darn it, I can’t believe I urinated again into something I detest!!! This is the worst nightmare I’ve ever been through!!! “Lucy, come on, they definitely won’t want us to be late!!!” I still stood there thinking of my humiliation so much that Cathy had drag me part of the way to the next class. Again, I didn’t feel the dampness against my pussy but the humiliation of peeing in one overrode that thought. The next class was a physics practical lesson which allowed us to briefly cover our exposed nappies but the lesson was incredibly hard to understand, especially the shifting of weights. I finally heaved a sigh of relief when it was over but it mean that the coats had to be removed.

The next class for me was Mathematics while Cathy went for her German class. I hate equations, calculus, and all that stuff that relates to anything numbers. As I sat trying to even write something credible on the sheets, I again felt my bladder signal and I squeezed and crossed my legs. That definitely didn’t help and as the teacher droned on, I peed, this time a huge amongst hitting against padded stuff around my crotch. “Mehan, what’s the answer for question 7?”

“Uh….” I stared down at my sheet.

“That’s certainly not an answer. Extended tutorial, this afternoon!!!”

Extended what? “But..”

“No arguments!” I mumbled something as I continued to not fill in anything on the sheet and instead peek glances at the nappy. The previous few pees didn’t change the shape of it but now it was slightly bloated. And wait, that yellow strip in the middle of it wasn’t yellow anymore. What the heck did that mean? Thankfully, the class ended but the teacher stuck a note onto my folder, indicating that I needed to attend extra an “extra session”. As I got up, the senior Sian yanked my arm. “This way,” she said and soon enough, I found myself in a toilet with no doors with other girls sitting in other stalls. With a warning to stand still, she reached over and unlocked the plastic pants. Yes, I thought, finally. The used or sort of used nappy was undone and I was told I had a few minutes to “shit”. “This is one of the scheduled stops, try and do it because you wont be allowed to for a long while.”

I sat there semi-naked and tried to but only a trickle of urine, not poo came out but it was such a relief to have the pants and dreaded nappy off. Before I could sit there any further, the senior returned. She didn’t have anything in her hand and I queried that. “Get up, we’re going to the nurse.”


“To get you changed silly.”

“But, I’ve be walking naked?”

“Clean your self up,” I did so and as I got up, she checked the bowl. “You didn’t poo?”

“I…I couldn’t,” I was embarrassed; after all who would have asked that at my age?

“Well, if that’s your case. I told you you won’t get another chance.”

“Why can’t you put me in the same nappy again?” Sian gave we an ‘incredulous’ look and pushed me out. I’ve never walked semi-naked before, well not outside my house, so even as there weren’t anyone else in the corridor, it was really humiliating. Soon enough, I was back in the nurse’s office. “Well hello again,” the nurse Donna greeted. “Lie down on the bed please.”

“Are…are you going to…”

“Strap you down? Not unless you misbehave young lady, now do as I say.” Not wanting a repeat of the previous forced changing, I slowly laid myself down. She had some examination light shown on my exposed crotch and then–zing! “Oooh! Ooaa! What was that?”

“A cleaning wipe. Could you please stay still,” she ordered with a firm voice and used one hand to hold me down as the ultra cold wipe was pressed against my crotch, my anus bum and even my thighs. “Phew,” I exclaimed as she stopped but before I knew it, she aggressively rub some gell against my crotch. “What the F…”

“Mind you language dear or you’ll face detention.”

“What….is that?!!!”

“Can you pipe down please. It’s cream to prevent rashes or infections.”

“You’ve put hundreds or stuff down there. Just get the bloody stupid napp…mmmmpph!!” She stuck a piece of tape across my mouth. I immediately reached out but the same straps came again and held me down. “I did say to watch your language young lady. I’ll be reporting you. Now…” she lifted my bum then slide a new nappy under, taping it tight as before. Still strapped, she roughly pulled up a new locking pants and secured it.

“Sian,” she called the senior in. “This girl has used crude and nearly foul language. Best to keep her mouth shut till she needs to speak.”

To Be Continued.

My favourite Pictures

Medical restraints bra and diaper 2 Tena Slip Super Medical restraints bra and diaper 8 Tena Slip Super getting up Medical restraints bra and diaper 3 Tena Slip Super Medical restraints bra and diaper 9 Tena Slip Super getting up Medical restraints bra and diaper 4 Tena Slip Super Medical restraints bra and diaper 1 Medical restraints bra and diaper 5 Tena Slip Super Medical restraints bra and diaper 7 Tena Slip Super Medical restraints bra and diaper 6 Tena Slip Super

Extreme Lock-up 4:Letters to the Editor

Letters to the Editor:

Treatment of my daughter:

Dear Sir,

I know the tough measures for the detaining  of females include young teenagers but  my fourteen year old was visibly shaken after  she was arrested for vandalism which in my view wasn’t very much–just a small spot on a wall. After being locked and diapered for almost half a day, she is now still quite shaken from the whole experience and refuses to go out, even to school now. I see the need to address crime, but has the police and government considered the pyschological effects?

Mrs  Tammy Benson

Re: Mrs. T. Benson’s article: Overreaction

Police’s official response:

Dear Sir,

I refer to the letter by Mrs. Tammy Benson complaining about her daughter’s reaction to being arrested under the new  rules. While she may be suffering from side effects, there is no need to demand  for the authorities to consider effects. Her girl  would have clearly understood the rules since they have been broadcasted on  the web, media, schools and signs all over the country. As much as one should feel sympathetic, all her daughter should do it seek medical help.

Mr. Cavan Bennett

Dear Sir,

We refer to first Mrs  Tammy Benson’s letter and Mr. Cavan Bennett’s reply. The rules are quite evident that all girls will be restrained and gagged but any medical conditions will be noted. Mrs. Benson’s daughter was proposed to be examined by the police doctor but she herself refused. It is thus her fault if she suffers psychologically from it but we would very much be open to assisting her recovery.

Inspector Mark Harrison


Commissioner Brodie Carson

Chief of Police

Approval of the new laws

Dear Sir,

As a parent of a very rebellious sixteen year old, I applaud the government’s new move  in fully restraining females, gagging them and diapering them  24/7 while arrested. I have  tried so many methods to discipline my child but none worked. Once she was arrested for underage smoking and drinking and subjected  to the new  rules, she has really turned  over a new  leaf. I urge  the government to ignore opposing views  and continue with this.

Thomas Mann

Extreme Lock-up: The Rules

The new rules:


1) All females age 13 and above until about age 60 will be subjected to it. Even foreigners and tourists.

2) This excludes handicapped, mentally ill or those with other medical conditions. Officers will access, case  by case.

3) Injured females will not be excluded by special form of restraints and slightly different treatment.

4) Foreigners or tourists will not be exempt from the rule unless their country sign preferential deals with the government. Signs and pamphlets will be distributed at all ports of entry to warn tourists and others of the new rule.

5) The rules are final; any female who tries to resist the measures will face rougher handling. Protests by any females against this will still arrested.

The details:

1)  Upon any arrest of a female for any crime, she will be handcuffed (always wrists behind her back) and ankles chained with legirons.

2)  A ball gag will be applied to the girl. If she is 13 or 14 years old, a tape gag of two strips of thick duct tape plus a breathable cloth as stuffing with be used instead.

3)  All such females, whether one such suspect or many, will not be transported in a normal police car but instead in a police van. Each girl will be secured inside cages and at least one male police officer per female in the van.

4) At the station, the suspect’s fingerprints will be taken with her hands handcuffed in front but then re-handcuffed behind her. Her gag will be temporarily removed but warned not to make a a sound as mug shots are taken.

5) Next, the subject can either be handcuffed to the waiting bench. She will not be allowed to use the toilet unless it is absolutely necessary. If she has to during this time, she will still be restrained. The toilet cubicle will have no door and the male officer (rarely female) will assist her in cleaning up.  If not, she is escorted to the examination room where up  to four male officers will be present. All bindings and gag will be removed and the girl will be instructed to strip off all clothing, items: jewellery, hairpins, earrings, rings anything  on her body. She will be asked to do this twice, and  if she refuses, the officers will handle the stripping and may turn rough depending how much the girl cooperates.

6) Once fully naked, a full body cavity will be performed by only one senior male officer, never by a female unless in extreme circumstances. He will check all areas skin and cavities: nasal passage, ears, mouth, anus,  vulva/vagina and double check that there’s nothing else on her body. A scanner will be used if necessary to double check.

7) Once checked, she  will be escorted to a side where a doctor will examine the subject to see if she can withstand further restraining and incarceration. If he disapproves, she will be held in this room under observation until she can be fit to be restrained or need further assistance. If he says yes, the girl will be locked, still naked, on to a medical examination table. If  her vulva is too hairy, it will be shaved, even  against her will, albeit gently.  A Tena Slip Maxi Diaper/Nappy will be taped on and secured with locking knickers. She will then be dress in a translucent gown that may or may not hide her breasts, depending the cup size.

8 ) The officers will take over, restraining her and gagging her as before, this time with a panel gag. She will be led to a cell. Each cell for each female will obviously not contain a toilet. It will have a ring on the wall where the girl’s restraints will be cuffed to for at least one hour before she is released to moved, still gagged and restrained in the cell. There will be a small bed with medical restraints on. She will be restrained for 24/7 will a CCTV monitoring her in the cell. Before dinner, she will be allowed to use the toilet to defecate, but with on hand handcuffed to a ring  on the wall. Similarly after dinner, each girl will be allowed to use  the toilet for defecation as well an hour before lights out.

9) During meal time, she will be escorted to a canteen area but still will not released. Officers will feed her and of course  the food will be according to her dietary and religious requirements. Not a word, other and the sound of chewing and swallowing or she will be denied the rest of the meal.

10) At lights out, she will be released from the chains and locked flat down to the bed with the medical restraints. Depending on the results of her medical examination, her  gag will still  be a muzzle gag throughout the night, or changed to a duct tape gag or she will not be gagged sleeping but warned to be silent.

11) Every arrested female incarcerated will be allowed only to shower once a day and that is before  breakfast in the morning. She will be escorted to an open  area where guards will assist her in removing her nappy, clothing and restraints but placing on handcuffs with longer chains. Her ankles will be handcuffed to chains linked to the wall. Given eight minutes, she will be subjected to a shower with average  temperature, which will  turn on and off with barely enough time  to shower. Only liquid soap will be provided.

12) Escorting  to court. The girl will appear still gagged, shackled and in  the prescribed outfit in front of the judge. If her lawyer needs to converse with her, her or she  needs to apply for a permit for  the gag  to be  removed. Only when the girl is called upon to speak to the judge, will order her gag to be removed.

13) Prisoner transportation. Occasionally, the court may be held in a city further away or she may be extradited overseas. For such cases, the female shall remain in the same restraints, with the addition of a hood. This hood is to be tightly but not fully wrapped around her head to block out light and disorientate her but not to suffocate. It shall be used when bring her out of her cell and into the transportation van. Only inside the van should  her hood be removed. On rare occasions such as extremely hostile or uncooperative female, the hood will remain on forever. In transporting the female prisoner, at least two male marshals should be sited in the back, even  if she is locked in a cage. The suggested number should be four. If there’s more than one, this number should be  multiplied accordingly. The guards should not unnecessarily stop but if needed, at least two guards (therefore four  is better) should remain with the female or females at all times while the others rest or gather food. On no occasions (under medical or emergency) should the female be fed even  if  it is a long  journey.

Van Transportation: As mentioned, it should be either a cage van or just a normal one. Prisoner should be strapped in in a seat belt like strap to hold her and if medical exam allows, chains to be linked to be van. The van should not speed so as not to cause excessive physical harm. Routes will be randomly selected and there should always be a back up van and additional unmarked support vehicle.

Water Transportation: On certain circumstances, females may be transported by a special prison ship. Again, they should be locked down, whether chair or benh, though the latter will be more uncomfortable. Aas it is a ship, the vehicle’s velocity may not be

14) On  certain occasions, such as acts or lesser nature, the female may be allowed to be transported  via public transport. This  may also be so to humiliate the girl. She  may either be dressed in prison or civilian outfits but again, a nappy must be worn and no bra or metallic items should be on her to aid escapes.  In such a case, one marshal is an appropriate number to escort her but two or evne more if she is uncooperative. In terms of such prisoner

a) Visitors: Will have to apply for a permit to visit girls incarcerated for more that a few days. If the visitor in female, she will be handcuffed and leg-ironed but not gagged or diapered.

b) If the girl  is found  not guilty or is released, she will be provided with he own clothes back only after being escorted home, handcuffed and diapered. if her clothes were damaged as a result of the officers’ doing, she will be reimbursed.

All these rules are final and all must obey these rules.

Extreme Lock up 2: Be careful what you write

“Miss Charlotte Kelly?” I heard a voice say.

“Yes?” although it came up more like a yes…since I was quite tipsy having a couple glasses of champagne, cocktails and tequilas. I turned in my six inch heels to face a pair of policemen. Uh?

“Your under arrest for writing unsubstantiated rumours that could cause another economic collapse in this country,” came the reply which sounded more  like a mechanical voice than a human. I was about to protest as another grabbed my arms and  yanked them behind my back. i was in a evening dress that reached only several inches below my waist and and the back exposed most of my skin.

“Ow!” I yelled as I felt cold tight steel linking my hands together.

“This will keep you quiet,” another said and my jaw was pried open and a thick leathery-plasticky tube was pushed into my mouth. it was linked  to some  kind of pad and strapped cut against my make up-fillled cheeks. This “thing” was locked behind my nicely permed and bundled  up hair. It took  me a few seconds to realise that it was a panel gag, worn my fetish people. Why this? Then, I remembered the “no rights  for women” police law, which allowed  police to strictly cuff and  gag females of almost all ages and keep them so. Darn it!

“Move,” I was told. I nearly tripped as I was half dragged with  on-lookers starring  at me as I was dragged out of the main hall. Outside, the chilly  night air bit against my bare skin and I was  dragged towards a back police van. I nearly sprained my ankles as I was literally pushed up the steep steps. Inside, I was pushed towards a  mini cell and my cuffed hands  were locked against a set of rings and cuffs on the  metal wall. My ankles were also treated to manacles that were pretty short enough to make me think  they were handcuffs. Finally, a hood was draped over my head and  the cell was locked.

The van jerked immediately, yanking me against the wall and causing me to yelp out through the gag. “Shut up and stay that way or we’ll taser you,” came threat. What the heck? I thought. How could I obey that given the way they secured me to the seat/mini cell. I could only bear the pain of the fetters which obviously was exacerbated by the speed of the fast moving van.

All of a sudden, the  vehicle screeched to a hat. Gosh, how far did we travel? The cell clanged open and the men swiftly released me from the seat restraints. Again, the cold stung me as I was dragged into a dark building where I could barely make out the sign “Police Station”. I was dragged to a desk and for the first time, they adjusted my cuffed hands to the front. “Don’t think  we’re letting it easy girl, we need  to get your fingerprints.” My cuffed hands were pressed against an electronic scanner–wow, they’re hight tech now–and within in seconds my prints were entered into their database. With my hands behind my back again. I was marched to a wall with height marking on it and immediately guessed what was next. “We’re going to remove  you gag but any noise and you’ll be sorry,” snarled the smae  mechanical voice. “Remove” was the wrong word, the leather panel gag was yanked out so hard it almost  cu my lips and mouth. The mug shots took almost the same time  as  the  finger  printing–one facing front and  oen at the  side.

“Ok, Charlie,” how did  they know  my nickname  was Charlie. “We can do this the easy or  hard way. Either you strip for us or we’ll take of you nice  dress for you.”

“No…” was what I could muster. Actually, I meant no this was  all wrong–the sudden arrest and treatment, despite knowing that  this was  the new  legislation  in place. However, two me immediately grabbed me. One held me firmly while the other yanked  the  thin straps of my evening  dress down. Immediately, my breasts and my pink  bikini knickers. I was  wearing  those translucent/invisible bra forms around my boobs instead of a strapless bra and my sweat from all this suddenly “kidnapping” had made both cups loose.

“Ah such sexy knickers and well, what  a method of holding up your 34 Bs,” he said while the officer reached and yanked away the stick on bra. I screamed and turned bright red as my full boobs were exposed but was only given a smack and the same warning to keep quiet.

“I have my rights!” I yelled, ignoring him.

“So do we,” snarled the officer who took off my bra. My knickers were pull down half way and instead of fully removing it, he produced a knife and cut them off.

“Hey, you damaged my clothes! The  rules said that ow…..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” My body was fried. “If you don’t shut up, we’ll shock you and perform a painful body search. Now, last change cooperate or else.”

The search was probably the most excruciating time of all my life. They removed everything  from my body: hairpins, earrings, rings, bracelet, necklace, tummy ring, watch and everything. They tocuhed every cavity: ear, nose, mouth, frisked my breasts, my hair and poked around  my vagina and anus. Finally, they stopped and dragged me over to a table wear something whitish was on it. I was strapped down using medical restraints and knew that I was being locked in an adult diaper–a Tena Slip Maxi to be exact.  I always wondered why they chose such a maximum protection diaper since it would never be fully used–at least use a Tena Slip Plus which doesn’t have  such  big a  capacity.

After being diapered and with locking panties on–unnecessary in my view since girls would be restrained almost 24–They draped a short but translucent gown to cover my exposed boobs. I was then back in the  cuffs and leg irons and panel gag. They prodded me down a dark  corridor and  my cell was revealed to me.  Since it was late at night–I judged the time to be 11-ish or so–I was restrained to be hard prison bed with medical straps again. “Good night, Charlie,” was the last I heard.

Lethargy over came me so despite the most uncomfortable sleep position, I feel immediately asleep.

The clanging of the cell door awoke me from my slumber and suddenly I felt the urge to pee. Then I remembered I was and that I was restrained and  diapered. As the officer approached the bed, I had no choice but to empty the contents of last night’s drinks on to the nappy. “Ah, good morning Charlie, so the diapers do come in handy after all eh?”

I blushed again as the dampness between my legs grew and grew. Without any more comment, he undid the straps holding me down and lifted me up. The rattling of chains was heard and I submitted myself to the cuffs and legirons and belt (Note: I still had the panel gag on through the night and luckily, I didn’t choke on it).

Outside, the usual lot of guards were there and I was escorted down the dark corridor again to a dazzling bright area which was for showering. I definitely yearned for this especially given  the events the night before. However, the guards/policemen instead re-cuffed my hands to the front with handcuffs with a longer chain. The gown was cut away and my diapers were removed. Deciding that making noise wasn’t a good option, I motioned towards my gag for them to remove it.

“You don’t need your mouth to shower. Now  you have 6 minutes. Get on with it and we’ll shut off the the water exactly then.”

I turned to face the shower, noticing only one tube for shower gel–clearly having  a bar of soap was too dangerous. As I moved into the shower “pit”, a blast of cold water hit me and I couldn’t help but yelp through my gag. After half a minute, I fumbled using my cuffed hands to gather some soap and with difficulty, I tried to wash myself, especially my crotch area and anus. The latter of course was extremely difficult given the way my hands were arranged. Before I knew it, the water was off. The guards were back, handing me a towel and again I had the difficult task of drying myself, handcuffed.

They made me wear  the same diaper–well it wasn’t fully soaked–and a new gown. Then the “leader” from the night before appeared and told me that i was going to be brought to court early. My case would not have a lawyer it seemed, as it was a serious crime that was evident. What nonsense, but of course couldn’t object. “Breakfast will come later,” I was told, making my heart sink further.

Apparently, the courthouse was some distance away so again, the van was needed. This time however, another apparatus was placed on me–that of a dark hood. It was clearly unnecessary as I brought out of the building and back  into the “mini-cell” of the van. This time, the ride was smoother but the seat restraints were still cutting into my flesh.

I was soon in a court room with no audience and made to stand, chained, gagged and wearing a diaper to face a prosecutor would read out my charge and a judge. Some court proceeding it was. The verdict was swift: Given my age, I was not given a jail term but was to be humiliated by being chained at the city centre. My labtop, computer and internet connect  would be removed for a year and I would be monitored if I was near any PC.

Hours  later:

I was nearly sun  burnt and my crotch was steaming and sticky with all the urine packed against it when they released me from the pole. I was locked back in the van and  after a bumpy ride, I was at my flat. My neighbours didn’t seem to notice the clanking of the chains I was led into my apartment. Standing up, the single policeman uncuffed me and my hands, senseless from the restraining, almost literally dropped to the floor. The rest of the  chains were unlocked and so was my gag. Finally, I was stripped of the dreaded diaper and gown. Nude, he  handed me a bill–expenses for the diaper and  a further fine  for my crime.

Prison Hospital

Of Detentions and Hospitals:

By Claire Harrison

Usually sick leave for me means resting at home without bothering about any articles. This time round however, I had to submit this article, even when on sick leave.

It all started with a burning pain in my abdomen which came at irregular periods. My boss was naturally concerned and gave me a week’s leave and I rushed to see my GP. He declared it an appendix problem and was about to refer me to surgery when he noticed my usual hospital was full. “Oh, there’s this new place which I’m not sure about. Solihal’s Medical Centre. But it’s for the inmates of Duke Prison. Or I can transfer you to the next city’s hospital.” Without any thought, I chose the former, not wanting to bear with this pain any longer.

Solihal Medical Centre’s appearance at first sight was much like the exterior of a prison, barb wire fences and sentries patrolling. The guard even questioned my presence until he saw me clutching my side. Inside were uniformed officers clearly wardens rather than medical staff and it took me a while to find the reception, if you could call it a reception. It looked more like a security check point, with shielded glass and all. The male officer grunted at me as if I was a visitor and somehow I dropped my reporter’s pass when passing him my appointment card. “Press huh? Well you could find it a nice story.”

The wait was not long but the spasms continued to torture my side. Finally, two male nurses escorted me into what was labelled “preparation room”. Inside, I was greeted by an elderly male nurse who despite my protests helped me out of my skirt and blouse and into a paper gown. Suddenly, he yanked my arms behind me and snapped on handcuffs. Shocked, I was told that this was the regulation for the prison hospital.

If cuffs were needed, then so were medical restraints which greeted me as I entered the operating room. “Even when you are under anaesthetic, this is required,” explain Dr. Barnes, the chief doctor. That was all I heard as the mask slipped me into unconsciousness.

I awoke, slightly groggy and tried to move but still found myself restrained. I was on thin cotton mattress and found an IV tube strapped to my right arm. My bra was clearly missing and wires were taped above my breasts and to the sides of my head. Heart rate monitors and other devices made up my surrounds. My queries were soon answered as Dr. Barnes and a female nurse appeared. “Since I guess you are reporting, we added the monitors for you to get the feel of this hospital,” he began. I was to rest for five days to let the operation settle. Furthermore, I wasn’t to move much and in any case I couldn’t, not with the restraints in place. “Another standard for all patients is that of diapers,” he continued. “We can of course use canisters but that may increase the chance of escape by prisoners. The nurse will fix you up soon. Also, to prevent the planning of escapes, you’ll be gagged but enough to allow you to breathe.”

I asked him about safety, given this amount of physical restrictions. Nothing too dangerous, he replied, pointing out an emergency button and an over heard CCTV camera. “In fact, your additional monitors are linked to the central database which alerts us of any difficulties. Now, I’ll leave you with Nurse John.”

With that, I felt my knickers yanked away and the roughness of razors scratching my crotch. Nurse John was in fact a trained police sergeant as well as a nurse, with years of field work before transferring here. In addition to the ultra thick diaper, he added locking plastic underwear although this was only used for unruly inmates. “You’ll have to do most of your business here, because of your condition and second it is normal for us to come to let you use the toilet so often.” Finally, the gag was applied, a ball of cotton in my mouth followed by a strip of medical tape. Funnily enough, the wad hydrated my mouth and the tape was firm but not too sticky.

The rest of the day was spent lying down although TV with special programmes was allowed for a few hours. Sound was only permitted via retractable headphones. Evening came but I was to be without food for one day, creating hunger pans. Nurse John came by in the evening to check on my diaper and change the wad in my mouth, but other than that, I could not take a look at my surroundings. “We’ll see how wet you get tomorrow, he replied, before drawing the curtain and leaving me in darkness.

The next day, or what I considered day,  a male nurse appeared, explaining it was bath time. I was transfer on a cold metal gurney and still strapped she led me to a spacious area, much like the changing room in swimming pools, except that there were was the pungent smell of sterilising liquid. I was detached from the gurney but still kept in restraints, with my hands secured to chains dangling from the ceiling. My gown was cut off and I was roughly bathed by the staff.

It appeared that security was so tight that even patients/inmates had their teeth brushed by the staff. Back on the bed, I received the sting of alcohol swaps on my anus and crotch before the soft padding of a new diaper was attached. Nurse John allowed me to glance as my head permitted and I saw similarly figures at both sides of me, strapped down but silent. “The one on your left is convicted of second degree murder while the other eluded the police for years. They are not only strapped down but drugged so you should be thankful.” Those words were however little comforting words as he left me.

Around noon, a trolley was rolled in and finally I was given food, albeit, mushy porridge. Just like bathing, I wasn’t released from the restraints and queried the nurse about such measures. “Initially, we had a high amount of escape and attempted escapes because prisoners weren’t held down and some faked conditions. It may be extreme, but since two years ago, there haven’t been escapes since. We accept prisoners even from high security prisons.”

My face express doubts and he volunteered to show me around, with permission from the doctor. Half an hour later, I was restrained to a wheelchair with the IV tube still leading into my arm. As we exited the room, I caught more glimpses of my “roommates” who were sound asleep. “We’ve drugged them as we think they may get rowdy. Anyway, they need the rest to recover”.

I was wheeled back to the administration area where I witnessed the presence of armed guards and other rooms shielded with thick glass and automatic locking doors. CCTV cameras lined the ceiling everywhere so much that you would have thought this place was a nuclear silo or stored precious items. They showed me the operating theatre again, where there were a naked male and female, strapped down and gagged with leather gags. “This is an extreme case since both are known escape artists. Since their conditions aren’t that serious, we’ve restrained them as such. No one would dare escape naked.”

More “restrictions” were revealed as I was moved to another set of rooms. I wrote “moved” as I was blindfolded before reaching them for even tighter security reasons. Instead of just beds there were large cages with the patients/inmates wrapped in multiple straps, blindfolded and gagged. “These are those from the high security prison. The cages are electrified and depending on their condition they are drugged for nearly most of the day and allowed as little movement as possible.” Ouch, I thought, those poor souls are having it a million times worse that I had.

Exiting from a different direction, I noticed a line of people dressed in dark clothing, chained and hooded. “They are the prisoners who are cleared of problems. Again, all inmates are subjected to strict restraints until they are back in their original cells. It’s drastic but works.” To prove the point, I was shown the statistics of the prison before I was returned to my bed. Strapped down again, they surprised me with a blindfold. “Just to give you the feeling of what some patients are going through.”

So for the remaining days I remained gagged, restrained and blindfolded, with all my excretion done on a diaper. Finally, the doctor cleared me to return home. Just as my straps were removed, Nurse John was motioned aside and the Doctor reappeared. “How would you like to experience how prisoners are transported back to prison?” I paused and stilled gagged with tape, I nodded. As I tried to find my bearing after lying down for so long, my wrists were locked behind me with plastic cuffs and the doctor personally lead me to a side room.

With the snip of scissors, my gown was removed and being bra-less, I turned a beet root red, standing there semi naked. He held me firmly as he dressed me in a tight prisoner’s gown. “It’s tight to give you the “restrictive feeling,” he remarked. Handcuffs and leg irons were applied and my gag was replaced with a leather gag. A hood completed everything and I was guided out, my chains were attached to what I assumed was another inmate.

The rest was basically a ten minute march to the prison next door where I was given a strip search. The reason was to check for anything that prisoners may have stolen—one of the other crazy measures I thought. Thus ended my stay in a prison hospital.


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