Womens' Compliance Center

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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Hi, readers. Thank you for checking out this work of fiction. This is my very first story. So please feel free to give me any feedback -- positive or negative. As as a male, I would love to read your thoughts. Thank you in advance.

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The courtroom was filled to half capacity as the 22 years old defendant stood before the judge. Her crime was drunk driving. Luckily she didn't crash and injure anyone, or herself. Dressed in a skirt and a business suit, Michelle Johnson looked very pretty. Beside her stood her defense attorney, Jill Hudson, a young attorney blazing a trail for herself, as she just stared her own business a few years ago, after graduating from law school. Ms. Hudson wore a pink pant suit, and looked the part of a successful attorney. The judge presiding over affairs for the day was Judge Holtz, a rather reserved woman, but very serious to her craft and insistence of making sure defendants follow the letter of the law. There was no wiggle room with her. Ms. Hudson opened her remarks by saying her client has never broken the law before and she should get off with a small fine or community work. Judge Holtz, reading from her paperwork.

Judge Holtz started, "Ms. Johnson, I see that you failed to file your income taxes one year while in college, what do you have to say to that charge."?

"Your honor," Johnson said, "yes, I did indeed fail to file my income taxes because as a student I was barely making enough money as a waitress while in school."

The judge thought for a minute and said, "okay, for your drunk driving charge I sentence you to one year in prison, and for failing to file your taxes, I sentence you to one year, sentences to run consecutively, for a total of two years."

Ms. Hudson and her client were aghast.

"Your honor, two years for those minor violations?"

"Well, the law if the law, for everyone."

As she was about to get up from the bench, she stopped, and sat down.

"However, there is a more lenient answer to this. There is a new women's federal center in this country that caters to women with relative minor infractions. It's a much better environment to be in as opposed to those regular prisons. The sentence there would probably about just one year, or less. What do you say. Ms Johnson"?

Before her attorney could question the particulars of this women's center, Michelle Johnson sad, "yes, your honor, I'll take that one and be a free woman in a year."

"Very well, that is your sentence. Court is adjourned"

The judge rose, hammered her gavel on her desk and went back to her chambers. She had a warm sensation in her loins throughout the whole procedure.

Ms Hudson hugged her client, apologized she didn't do better for her. But as she was walking away, Hudson had a queasy feeling about that "center." After all she didn't even know where it was located. She had overheard another attorney referring to it as the "Bermuda Triangle of Prisons." But too late. Two female officers came forward put shackles on her ankle and handcuffs on her wrist and was and taken out of court. An unmarked white van awaited for her outside.

The next day, Michelle Johnson was outside the gates of her new home. The transport van she was in was white and unmarked. It was a prisoner transporter. That meant secured doors and no windows. She was in total darkness. The building was on federal grounds in a very secluded place, miles from the nearest house. Just after the bus exited the highway, they came upon checkpoint. Anyone without the proper government credentials were not allowed to pass. They were some type of military agents handling the checkpoint. This bus was checked and the driver waived on. After the checkpoint, there was a long road that meandered for a 10 miles. Finally the van arrived at an area of tall pine trees. The pined formed a huge circle with a radius of 600 yards. Inside that circle there were no trees or vegetation of any kind. In the center of the clearing stood a twelve feet high electrical fence, complete with razor wire at the top. And inside that fence stood a very large, one story, nondescript building.

To the unknown it may seem like some industrial building. It was painted a nice midnight blue color. When the driver got to the first gate, they stopped and showed the female guards their government IDs. Next the driver drove the van to the to a door which was located at the center on the side of the building. They stopped the van and went to the back of the van, unliked it, and took out Ms Johnson. After having been in darkness for the past hour, she was blinded by the sudden light. Johnson was marched into the building, down a three flight of stairs, to the dungeon. There were actually three subterranean floors, all for the "residents." The guards led her into a small room on that level. The guards unlocked her shackles and handcuffs. They both gently caressed Ms Johnson's cheek and looked her in the eye. The guards had barely left the room and in walked a young woman. About 30 years old, or so, she extender her hand and introduced herself as Warden Cane. She looked at her clipboard, and all of Johnson's history was in it.

She started, "I am also the lead interrogation officer here, you will find me to be very fair. "Okay, please strip all of your clothes and put them in that hamper."

"Strip, are you serious.?" Johnson asked.

"Yes, very serious," came her curt reply, "and that means your panties and bra, shoe, too."

Ms. Cane directed Johnson to stand with her "back against the wall, face the desk. Johnson was mortified but complied. Cane had her to reach the ceiling with her two hands, and that she did. Then she pressed a button on the wall behind her desk, and a single steel chain slowly recoiled from the ceiling.

"Whenever you're in our interrogation room, unless told to do otherwise, this is how you should present yourself. Understood.?"

"Yes, I understood, Heather."

"From now on you are to address every officer in this place as, Ma'am."

"Yes, I understand ... Heath ... err, Ma'am," came the reply.

"So I see you were a gymnast in college, correct.?"

"Yes, ma'am, that is correct."

"I bet you looked hot in a leotard," said Holtz. Johnson thought that to be a weird remark.

Attached to the end of the chain were two leather wrist cuffs. She sent over and secured her two wrists to the leather cuffs.

Next she had Johnson spread her legs about four feet apart, which she found embarrassing. There were a set of steel manacles connected to a steel chain, which that in turn was locked to the floor. Ms Canne connected each end of the manacles to her ankles, and she was secure in place. Then she went back to her dest, pressed a different button, and a crank in the ceiling began to lift the chain, and Johnson's wrists towards the ceiling. When Johnson was fully stretched, but heels still on the ground, she released the button. The warden immediately appreciated Johnson's pretty body. Nice round butt, built thighs, lovely shoulders and arms.

Jill's eyes opened is disbelief, but said nothing. Cane did take notice of that though. After all she honed her interrogation skills with the CIA. She also knew that she had her prisoner at a huge disadvantage by having her standing completely nude, with legs splayed, and hands tied overhead. Every cell in the building had both hidden cameras and microphones, and all was recorded for Cane to see, and hear later.

She approached her and said, "may I touch your body here?, you look lovely." More of an order that a question.

"Well, sure, okay," she replied, obviously feeling uncomfortable. (As she taught, do I have a choice).

"That would be a, "Yes Ma'am," Cane said.

"Sure .. yes bu... yes Ma'am," came the late reply.

Cane ran her hands and fingers, starting with her shoulders, over her arms, to her abdominals, back, then to her well rounded butt, and finally to her well toned thighs and calves.

Cane was happy with what she felt and saw, and said, "thank you, very pretty girl."

Johnson, for all her earlier embarrassment at being in the nude in front of people, actually felt a little turn-on by being gently caressed all over.

Another officer had arrived at this time, she was there to assist escorting their prisoner to her new cell. The party brought her down a hallway and descended two more flight of concrete stairs, until they were in the very bottom floor. The lower floor is used for mostly difficult women or women who have committed very serious crimes. The second level is for women who have been there for quite some time and have learned some discipline. The top floor is for women they deemed to be of the least risk and submissive. The corridor that circled the whole building had sturdy oak cell on both sides, 12 feet apart. That was a lot of cells. Now they came to a door in the hallway. It was solid oak with a window near the top measuring 12 inches by 12. That window was break-proof and one-way, made from the she material in the window in the interrogation. Guards could look in at their prisoners, but the prisoners couldn't see out.

Ms. Johnson stepped into her cell that would be her home for much longer than one year, but she didn't know it yet. But the corrections officers did. The cell itself was essentially a square box measuring 12 feet each way. There was a full size bed with large wooded head posts at each corner. The mattress was covered with a plastic type cover. No pillows or sheets allowed. In the corner was a lavatory and a hand wash sink. In the other corner, was a shower, sans the shower curtain. From peering in the window on the cell door, one can see the prisoner from every area, except the lavatory. And of course, as they're underground, no sunlight ever to see. This cell, as with all the cells were 100 % soundproofed. The lights in every cell was dimly lit 24/7, so the residents never knew if it were night or day, and in fact, find it impossible to measure the time there were imprisoned.

Warden Cane came walking down the seemingly endless corridor until she came up Johnson's cell. She was accompanied by an officer, per company policy, when anyone opens any cell door. The officer unlocked the door, Cane walks in, and the officer stays outside and locked the door. She is to remain outside cell door until the warden wishes to leave. Ms. Johnson was sitting on her bed and remained there. The naked Johnson, trying to cover her breasts, was in stark contract to her new boss, dressed in a jeans miniskirt and red tank top. Cane put her hand gently on her bare knee, and Johnson accepted with a nervous smile.

"How are you doing so far?"

"I want to go home, she said, "I have only violated two very minor laws."

"Yes, I did see your file and it does look like you got a raw deal. Why didn't you just take the offer if two years in a traditional prison?"

"Now I'm thinking that that's what I should have done." "How long do you really think I'll be here until I'm released?"

"Well, the sentence is two years. However, there are usually ways around stuff like that. Nothing is in concrete."

"You're kidding me, right." Cane put her hand gently on the nude girl's thigh, Johnson did welcome that touch, and looked her in the eye.

"But you're the warden of this place. Please do something for me."

"Well, if we find you obedient and willing to please me, I'm sure we can work something out," said the warden.

Ms. Cane stood up and asked Johnson to do the same, it was an order, not a request. Cane faced Johnson put a hand on each of her shoulders, gently stroked from shoulders, through triceps muscles, to elbow, and back to shoulders. She repeated that three time.

"We have very strict rules here, Jill. For instance, you may get credit for good behavior, to reduce your sentence, or for bad behavior, you may get your sentence increased. For not wearing the exercise shoes you'll be provided for, could increase your sentence by six months."

With that, Cane told her to make herself at home in her new home.

"There are a tons of other rules for you to learn, but I think that's enough for now. Your head must be spinning. After all just two hours ago you were a free woman, and now, well, we'll have to make the most of it."

And with that she hugged her nude prisoner, walked out and turned the key on the sound-proof oak door.

Inside her cell, panic was beginning to settle in. Here she was in this tiny cell, for God knows how long more, with nothing but a bed, hand washer, and shower. With that, she lay down in the bed, and wondered how it all happened and if she should have taken the original offer of the more traditional women prison. She soon fell asleep.

Trouble was brewing for Judge Holtz. An investigative reporter who was going through Holtz's records of all her sentences. The investigator come across too many instances where lesbians got much harsher sentences—that their female counterparts. She showed all her findings to her editor, and he felt it best call the FBI to see if they would agree. After all the research was done, it turned out that Holtz consistently gave much harsher sentences. In fact, for the same offense, Holtz would most often let the straight woman off with a warning, or at most, a tiny fine. But with lesbians hauled up in from her her, her average sentence was a staggering two years imprisonment, or a reduced "less than a year" at the Ladies Compliance Center. That would very serious charges against her, and if found guilty, a very stiff prison sentence would surely follow. And that was what brought the FBI agent LeBlanc to investigate further.

She had already met with Heather Cane in her office. She was shocked by what she was hearing, but had no reason to doubt what this professional had to say. So they set a plan: Cane would invite Holtz to come down when it suits her, and show her around the building.

"After all, she joked, "you have sent so many women here, and you still don't know what the inside of a cell looks like."

She bit on that. Holtz said she could be there tomorrow morning at whatever time works for her.

"Does 8:00 a.m. work for you, Your Honor?"

"Absolutely, yes," she said. After a few more pleasantries, Cane hung up her phone. And she thought to herself, "enjoy the last night of your freedom, honey, because it looks like you won't be leaving here for a long time."

The following morning at 8:00 a.m., Cane welcome Holtz to her prison, and had a warn hug. As warden of WPC, Came had a detached house 50 yards away from the prison, but still inside the security fence. As many time she did before, she could either walk out her door and walk across the yard to the prison. Mostly, however, she would access the underground tunnels that ran from her house to the 1st level of the dungeon.

Cane's house consisted of a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Quite small, but Cane was more than delighted with it. Below the house, however, was Cane's secret pride and joy, a very extensive dungeon. Cane had it built as soon as she got the job. The dungeon covered the very same area as her house. There was an old style staircase built of rock and cement. It also had a solid oak entrance door. The dungeon was equipped with many more times that the best pro Domme could hope for: winches from the ceiling, steel and wooden tables, two large beds, steel cages with padlocks, that could keep anyone from escaping. And of course, she had all the canes, whips, chains, rope, floggers, feathers, anyone could ask for.

Many a night those two beautiful ladies enjoyed themselves to the small hours of the morning. All in the dungeon. Many a tear was shed, sweat expended, and swear word used. But there were also a lot of kind kisses and caresses. They were lovers for over 10 years. They had a secret Domme/sub relationship. Holtz was the Domme; and Cane was her sub. Initially Cane did like to sub, but over some time she grew restless with that role, not with Holtz, and often fantasied about taking over Holtz and dominating her. But as technically, Holtz was her boss, that would have hard to do as it could effect her career. After all, she was kinda tired of the one who was always punished and would feel pain in her butt and breasts for days after. Maybe her time had come.

Warden Cane thought it was time to show Judge Holtz around her prison.

"Please come with me, your honor, I can't wait to show you around."

Holtz put her arms around Cane and kissed her on the lips. Cane reciprocated, with a gentle massage of her shoulders and breasts.

"Tell you what, Ma'am, why don't we make an agreement to meet up here and play for two hours every week, not matter what is going on." "

Absolutely," Said Holtz, "a better idea I couldn't have thought."

With that Cane told Holtz of the secret door that went from where they were now to the dungeon's first level. Holtz had no idea it was there. So they went out the door, Cane locked the heavy, steel door, and proceeded to the mail building. That door was always locked, but on this day, as Cane told her staff about her visitor, there was an officer already at the door can she had it unlocked.

"Well, this is Level 1," Cane started. "This is where we have women who usually are here quite a long time, and are obedient to the staff."

They started walking the dungeon in a clockwise position, and she pointed out that there was a separate cell every 14 feet apart. She also told Holtz that each cell measured 12 feet square. Holtz found it had to comprehend that there was a cell door on both side of the corridor. Holtz what to one cell door and peeked in through its one-way mirror.

"That's a lady who's been there in this facility for 15 years. Very compliant now, much better than she was when she first came here."

Cane also explained the dress rules for its prisoners: "Level 1 prisoners may wear issued training shoes and a black leather thong bikini. And that's it. And the thong is very skimpy."

Cane peered into a cell, to show Holtz how the women look in them. Inside the cell was a beautiful Latina. Holtz was strongly drawn to the sight, and could have stayed at the door forever.

"Later, prisoners in Level 2 may wear exercise shoes plus leather bikini bottom, but no the top." "When they're there, they'll always have their breasts exposed. Finally, Cane continued, "Level 3 prisoners, are allowed to wear exercise shoes, only. No bikini! So they will be totally nude 24 hours a day as long as they're here."

Next, they made their way to Level 2 via a stone, old-style staircase. The Second Level was nearly identical to the 1 Level, but Cane pointed out that these cells on this level measure only 10 feet square. The two stared their clockwise walk again, and Holtz peered into a cell every now and then. Finally, they walked to the final staircase to Level 3.

"This is where we house usually the newer residents and also the women here for the severest crimes. "After all, there's here to be punished."

"Totally agree with you, if you can't do the time, don't do the crime," she laughed. On the very corner of the corridor they come across a cell marked "Cell 2."

Cane continued, "look at that lady there, she's in for a very serious crime, drug trafficking. A crime like that and we'll make sure she's here until she's completely compliant and obedient . We can continue to write her up for disciplinary reasons, if we have to."

"And you can do that here," asked Holtz.

"Yes, the federal government has the authority to do that. Remember this is essentially a secret prison: So prisoners have no rights to an attorney, family visitors, or even phone calls. Their families don't even know where they are, and neither do the prisoners themselves."