The Knight and the Acolyte Book 8 Chapter 8 Impaled by the Minotaur
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Try To Be Or Not To Be - Chapter Two free porn video
I sat there with my head in my hands wondering what I was going to do. I
had visions of my family attempting some daring rescue, blocking the van
and somehow having got illegal guns, which they would use, to blast open
the doors and set me free. Then we could go on the run. But I knew that
as my parents had no criminal connections they would not have any access
to guns. Even if they did, I was being transported in total secrecy, and
even if they knew where I was taken, my father at least thought I was
guilty and would probably think that if anything, I was getting off too
lightly.
I studied the door and the walls and the small windows. No way of
breaking out of there without tools, and I didn't have any. I could
shout at the top of my lungs for someone to tell the outside world what
was going on, but then I might be returned to prison for the next four
decades. I was certain that if I could get to a lawyer there was no way
the legal system would allow this to happen to me. Even if the UK courts
allowed it, there was no way that it would get past Europe. The problem
was how to get hold of one. I already strongly suspected that this "new
faculty" was not one of Her Majesty's legally recognized prisons and I
would not be able to have any visitors or phone out.
After pacing the van for a little bit I decided that since unless I
escaped, they would sooner or later remove my two best friends. I sat
down and masturbated on what would be my last privacy for a very long
time indeed. Then I thought of the busy world outside and longed to be
part of it. Although nobody could look in through the darkened windows I
could look out, and I saw little things that almost made me cry.
Courting couples walking hand in hand, families with their children,
shopkeepers at their tills, the world going about it's business happily
without me. All too soon we left the town and after several hours we
drove into the grounds of Meadowlands Asylum.
The doors were pulled open and I was led by two of the white-coated
staff to my cell. The walls were covered with plush pink padding and
there was a bed, a chest of draws and a chair. There was also a small
pile of books and magazines and I picked them up with nothing better to
do. All of them turned out to be girl's magazines or romance books.
"They're serious," I said aloud. "They really do want to turn me into a
girl, this is just the start of it. They can't...I won't let them." Then
thoughts of possible decades stuck in prison came to mind, as well as
what might happen to me in this strange place, beyond help from the
lawyers. I might be "suicided". People kill themselves in prison every
year out of despair so it would be easy to fake one and hang me with a
sheet.
I made up my mind to do what I was told on the surface. Surely I could
stand a single year in this place, and when I was set free I could run
to a lawyer and explain what had happened to me. If I was believed and
they didn't just laugh me out of court, and if the courts took my side,
and surely they would as the judge sentenced me to youth custody, not
forced feminisation, I might get compensation or at least get the right
to live my life as I wanted to.
The next day I was taken from my cell and found three others, all males.
Two were the people who had got me into this mess in the first place and
I wanted so much to attack them on sight, but there were far too many
guards about. My vengeance would have to wait, but if there was one
thing I had no shortage of, it was time. The other I had never seen
before. On a dais was a man in a doctor's white coat with a pair of
epaulettes, and a middle aged, somewhat plump woman and two girls about
five years older then me.
Mr Epaulettes, as I privately thought of him, spoke. "Mr name is Doctor
Meadows, the Superintendent of the asylum that you find yourselves in.
All of you are juvenile killers who if you were adults would have been
rotting in prison. I want you to be given another chance." He warned us
of severe penalties if we acted up and a possible return to prison, and
promised that if we behaved we would be set free within a year. He
introduced us to his wife and daughters who would, he said "turn us into
beautiful and law-abiding young women."
The first few days were not that bad. The first lessons were about the
most basic things, such as the putting on of bras, which we found funny
and very fiddly at first.
We were taught the subtle differences that would enable us to pass as
girls. I was expecting the others to refuse to obey but only one did,
and the guards closed in on him. I was expecting them to beat him and
throw him in a cell but instead they placed a collar upon him and the
Superintendent took out what looked like a TV remote from his pocket and
pressed a button. He screamed and rolled around on the floor in agony as
the collar administered electric shocks to his neck. The rest of us
shuddered in sympathy at what he was going through. The Superintendent
turned to us and said, "That is what the rest of you will face if you
disobey, or worse. Nobody on the outside knows you are here, no human
rights lawyers, no relatives, nobody. This place is a secret little
bubble. Remember that."
The first few days were not that bad. We could still wear our own
clothes at that stage and the food was much better then the slop in
youth custody. Indeed it was almost as good as the food I used to eat in
freedom. There was plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables compared to
youth custody where there was an apple a month if I was lucky, just
enough to stop me getting scurvy. There was quite a variety of food and
after seven years of what I had to eat, it tasted heavenly. After a few
days my pectorals and nipples started to feel funny and when I cupped
them in my hands, they were growing larger. I told the Superintendent's
wife this, as did my fellow inmates and she told us to wear a bra, which
we did. It felt much better and our nipples ceased to rub against our
clothing.
None of us were allowed to cut our hair of course, and after a couple of
weeks I woke to find that my clothes had gone and I would have to dress
myself in the girl's clothing within my cell. A pink shirt, dark blue
trousers (at least I was not made to wear a dress yet) a silver necklace
with an A upon it, a pair of coral bangles for one of my wrists and a
small feminine watch for the other. It felt really good to be able to
tell the time again, as when I had been in youth custody inmates were
not allowed watches in case they used them to help time an escape
attempt.
The Superintendent's daughters attached small clip on silver earrings to
my ears and Hello Kitty decals to my fingernails, and applied a soft
pink lipstick to my lips. I had to force myself not to wipe it away, as
they warned me that they would cuff my hands behind my back or even put
me in a straitjacket if I did. Whatever was in our food had stopped any
hair growing on our faces and what there had been before had been shaved
away. Then I was allowed to look in the mirror and what looked back at
me was an attractive looking girl with long brown hair. They handed me a
small white handbag and took a photo of me. "For our records" I was
told. "By the way, your new name will be Amber. Amber Foyle. Remember
it, as it will be your new name when you are released from here."
Whilst prison is prison no matter how cushy it is, and I badly wanted to
escape, things were remarkably free and easy compared to where I had
been locked up before. Whilst no doubt the guards were ready to use
force, they were not the kind that joined the prison service for the fun
of maltreating prisoners. In the next three months they taught us what
we would need to do to pass as young women. Some of it was simple such
as how to apply makeup, how to sit in a dress without flashing
everything, and how to fend off any unwanted attention. We were warned
of possible danger from perverts and rapists, and that we had lost a lot
of our muscular strength due to the hormones they were making us take.
We were also given, which was just as important, cover stories for any
new friends we might make on the outside, and reminded of our new names
often enough not to forget them. We were warned strongly against
divulging our old identities to anybody as that could easily lead to
vigilante attacks from the relatives of the people who we had murdered,
or just assaults or worse from those who hated transsexuals. I wanted to
declare loudly that I was not a transsexual and that I was going to go
back to my old life as soon as I was freed, but I kept quiet as there
was no way that I wanted an electro-shock collar around my neck. As time
went on our voices began to sound more and more like the girls that they
wanted us to be.
When we were not being taught how to live our lives as girls, they
generally left us to ourselves as long as we did not cause trouble or
try to escape. We were told simply not to plot against the staff and not
to use our old names and warned that our rooms were wired for sound.
Apart from that there was remarkable freedom. We could watch TV (we had
our own TV sets in our cells) read books (although many of our books
were Mils and Boon romances and that sort of thing, by no means all of
them were) play table tennis, rest in bed, and talk to each other and to
our guards. It got boring at times but not as boring as being stuck 23
hours a day in a cell with a thug for company has had been the case for
many of the days I had spent in youth custody.
I chose not to talk to the guards as a matter of principle unless I had
to. Several years in prison does that to a person. And I had nothing to
do with the two who had got me wrongly convicted in the first place.
Which only left me with one person to talk to, Emma Hackett. When she
had been a boy, she had murdered two of her pupils in her class aged
eleven using a knife after a playground fight turned nasty. Knowing that
the place we were sitting in was wired for sound I was expecting the
guards to intervene but if they did hear anything, they let it pass.
Maybe they wanted us to talk about our crimes whilst we still could.
They had done as well at transforming him physically as they had me. He
now had long braided red hair, wore a silken red dress and was adorned
with golden bangles, rings and a necklace of gold, and he was expertly
made up like we were. My Little Pony decals adorned his fingernails and
I knew how embarrassed about it he must have been. I bent forward and
whispered in his ear, "I'm innocent, I never murdered Katie Garrett like
they said I did, and as soon as they let me out of here I am going to
try and get my own life back."
That evening the Superintendent came to speak to us. "What I am about to
say may well shock you. I have entered you four upon dating sites on the
Internet. You are to find online boyfriends which you will correspond
with and win the love of. Your computers will be connected to a master
computer so that I will know every word you say. If you attempt to tell
anybody the truth or refuse to co-operate you will be punished, so do
not think you can use the Internet to get help to escape. After a couple
of months you will be allowed out on your first date. You will be
watched so do not even think of escaping."
The four of us looked at each other, horrified at the thought of what
awaited us next.
Lizbeth
- 12.04.2022
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