Rehabilitation Part 13
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Rehabilitation - Part 2 free porn video
Josh Meadows, 18, shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, light skin
28 years in prison
Tattoo of
Miss Rebecca Stevens, 33 - blonde hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin
James Carter, 52 - previous corrections officer
Marcus Hooper, 23 - black inmate
Berry flavoured tea
Tuesday 4th March, 2020; 09:59
"Good morning, Josh," Miss Stevens chirped as I stepped into her office
once more.
"Morning." I shrugged in reply, my eyes still a bit bleary - but open
wide enough to catch the impending look of disappointment on Miss
Stevens' face. I caught myself and, stuttering a bit awkwardly,
continued: "I mean - good morning, Miss Stevens." This managed to quickly
turn her frown into a smile, and whilst I was glad we weren't going to
start the second session with her pissed at me, I was pissed at myself
for allowing my behaviour to be controlled so easily. Miss Stevens rose
from her seat as I walked further into the room, and I was once again
reminded of her superior height. She was wearing a light grey pencil
skirt today, matched with a soft pink shirt that, contrary to yesterday,
was completely buttoned up - no peeking down her cleavage today, I
huffed.
"I trust you slept well?" Miss Stevens smiled, her heels clicking
rhythmically on the wooden floor as she stepped across to the sofa.
"Whilst I'll accept no excuses if you've not done your homework, Josh, I
don't want you staying up into the early hours working either,
understand? Everyone needs their beauty sleep," she grinned, sitting down
on the sofa with her knees together, which she tapped in a commanding
manner. I had been dreading this, though it hadn't been the looming
threat of Miss Stevens' iron hand on my bare bottom that had kept me
awake last night - I had taken advantage of the solitary confinement cell
to thoroughly enjoy wanking off to the memory of her tight arse.
"Yes thanks," I lied, gulping as I pulled my bright orange prison
trousers down, along with the threadbare prison-issue boxers, until they
came to rest around my ankles.
"I didn't sleep well, not that you asked," Miss Stevens pouted as I bent
over her knees, my bare bottom still feeling red-raw from yesterday's
assault. I winced at the thought that I'd already put a foot wrong
somehow.
"I was going to-" I began to interrupt, but I was swiftly silenced by the
whip-crack of Miss Stevens' hand against my left butt cheek. Yesterday it
had taken until the 8th spank to break my restraint in holding back
tears, but today I knew I wouldn't hold out as long.
"...and again you lie to me," Miss Stevens sighed. "I didn't sleep well,
Josh-" SMACK. "-because I was concerned about you." SMACK. "I was
concerned that you didn't seem to take in all my messages from
yesterday." SMACK. "I told you I didn't like being disrespected, yet you
decide to lie to me about getting good rest." SMACK. "I spoke with the
guards, Josh - I know you were up late tugging on your little cock."
SMACK. I couldn't get a word in edgeways through the pain and the tears.
"I told you I didn't like being objectified, but I saw exactly where your
eyes went when you walked in this morning - and I wonder what you were
jerking off to last night?" SMACK. SMACK. "At least you managed to catch
yourself this morning when you greeted me-" SMACK. "-but there's another
cardinal lesson from yesterday you've forgotten." SMACK.
I felt Miss Stevens' warm breath on my ear as she leant forwards, but the
heat of her breath was nothing to the searing agony from my butt. "You've
forgotten to count each spank, haven't you, Josh?" Miss Stevens tutted
sadly. SMACK. I whimpered, cursing my own stupidity and cursing the
stupid bitch tormenting me.
"You utter c-" I began, but her hand fell again with the force of a
sledgehammer. My breath was ragged, my heart pounding, my arse so
exquisitely painful it almost felt numb. "One..." I cried, feeling weak
and pathetic. SMACK.
Tuesday 4th March, 2020; 10:34
I'd thought yesterday's spanking had hurt. How naive I'd been.
After receiving a total of twenty spanks to my left cheek, Miss Stevens
had thought it unfair on my right cheek to only receive ten and proceeded
to punish it in equal measures. I, naturally, had thought this a fucking
stupid idea from the mad bitch, and vocalising this thought had earnt me
another five per cheek. I managed to hold my tongue after that.
Squirming awkwardly in the chair opposite Miss Stevens, sitting
imperiously behind her desk, I fought back tears as each movement
threatened to ignite my arse in agony once more. I'd caught sight of my
cheeks in the mirror and whilst they were indeed redder than a tomato, I
had been relieved to find out they weren't bleeding - they felt like they
should be.
"Now," Miss Stevens smiled coolly as she slid a cup of her special-blend
tea across the desk to me. The scent of berries and roses filled my
nostrils as the steam spiralled up towards my face. "Let's hope that's
the last time I need to spank you, Josh - though I sincerely doubt it,
don't you?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You know, I was thinking a
bit more about your response to the favourite colour question yesterday,
and I realised - your hair is a bit reddish, isn't it? It's not entirely
blonde - some may call it strawberry blonde. It's a beautiful colour -
many women would be jealous. The stereotype is that redheads tend to be
more fiery, isn't it?" Miss Stevens smiled whilst I did nothing but
blush. "But believe you me, Josh - I will find ways to curb that temper
of yours - and as a blonde, I ensure you I'll have fun whilst doing it."
"Yes, Miss Stevens," I mumbled in meek response.
"Good boy," Miss Stevens nodded. "Time for us to discuss your homework,
Josh," she continued, pulling out a notepad and fountain pen, poised to
dissect my next words. "I asked you for 5 words each that relate to the
colours 'white' and 'black'. Emotions, thoughts, connotations - whatever
you desire. Shall we start with white?"
"Um, well..." I began hesitantly. I hadn't done my homework, but feared
admitting so due to the threat of further spankings. I wasn't so worried
about getting kicked off Miss Stevens' rehabilitation programme - 28
years of prison was beginning to seem preferable to a year of this.
Besides, it was 5 words about 2 colours - how hard was it going to be to
make up as I went along?
"Yes, Josh?" Miss Stevens asked expectantly, leaning forwards. "Drink
your tea, please - it'll help you relax and open up your mind." I reached
across and grabbed the mug, sipping down a piping hot mouthful of berry
bathwater.
"Well, white... makes me thing of 'pure', you know?" I volunteered.
"Pure? Okay," Miss Stevens replied, writing the word down on her notepad.
"Already I spy the creeping danger of racism in that line of thinking,
Josh. Pure - as in perfect, flawless... uncontaminated. I can see why
you'd want the word to be associated with your skin colour. But let me
challenge that idea - purity is related to honesty, and as we've covered
you are not honest. Purity is related to innocence, and you are not
innocent. Purity can be associated with being virginal, and - well..."
Miss Stevens chuckled softly, and I blushed fiercer. She was definitely
having fun - and at my expense.
"My point, Josh, is much the same as from yesterday. You liked it when I
said red was associated with courage and strength, because you liked
thinking that meant you were courageous and strong - but you're not. You
like thinking white means pure because that makes you think you're pure -
but you're not. You need to break through these visions of yourself that
you have, and start looking at who you actually are, okay?"
"Right, so... white isn't associated with the word pure, then?" I asked,
my mind addled.
"That's not the point of the exercise, Josh," Miss Stevens smiled
sympathetically - though from my point of view it seemed patronising.
"What we're doing is learning how you think, and trying to use that
knowledge to help you learn what you should think instead. Your next
word, please."
Over the next few minutes I came up with milk, cleanliness, snow, and
wedding dresses. Doubtless it told Miss Stevens something - it still
sounded like nonsense to me. If you'd told me prison would involve
conversations about how milk was related to fertility, life, motherhood,
etc, I would have called you crazy - but here I was, listening to Miss
Stevens prattle on. The only thing I was learning was that, whatever I
said, it somehow tracked back to what sounded like Miss Stevens calling
me an insecure mummy's boy.
"Okay, that's 'white' covered then," Miss Stevens smiled softly, drawing
a line underneath her meticulous scribbles in her notepad. "Good boy,
Josh. Now for - perhaps - the trickier part. Black. Let me pour you
another cup of tea, then we'll press on." As Miss Stevens stood up and
turned around, her tight pencil skirt clinging to her curves, my eyes
found themselves drawn magnetically to the sight of her shapely arse. At
first glance, however, my own arse flared up in excruciating pain -
signalling the memory of what happened last time I stared - and I averted
my gaze swiftly, choosing instead to stare at my teacup, adorned with a
delicate floral pattern. What was I doing with my life?
One freshly poured cup of tea later and Miss Stevens was back in her
chair, notepad and pen in hand.
"Black, Josh - what does the word 'black' make you think of?" she asked
probingly.
"I guess... black is dark, and darkness suggests evil; corruption." I
shrugged. Anyone would have said the same thing, but I just knew Miss
Stevens was going to tie this into some grand racist narrative she was
working towards.
"I'm not surprised you said that, Josh," Miss Stevens sighed. Yeah, I
wasn't either, but it hardly takes a psychologist to work out that common
association, does it? I snapped back inside my mind. "Certainly if you
watch any mainstream media black is definitely a colour associated with
evil and mystery. Do you know why there's that association, though?"
"...beats me," I shrugged.
"It's because black is also associated with power, elegance; strength. It
wouldn't do well for the bad guy in the film to prance around wearing
bright orange, would it? There's a reason the highest belt you can
achieve in martial arts is the black belt." Miss Stevens grinned. "Black
is strong, foreboding, intimidating - it speaks to a part of our minds
that incites awe, yet fear. It's a delightfully titillating sensation,
isn't it Josh?"
"A delightfully what?" I snorted, trying to control my surprised
laughter.
"Titillating, Josh - it's a perfectly normal word to use. Maybe if you'd
spent more time reading instead of commiting crimes you'd now that," Miss
Stevens cut across sharply. "Your next word, then..."
Once more I stumbled through the next few minutes, pulling words out of
my tender arse to associate with the word 'black'. I chose night, coal,
mourning and suits. Again - complete gibberish to me, deep hidden
meanings to Miss Stevens. At least my engagement seemed to keep her
satisified, even if I didn't particularly believe what she was saying.
"Great work today, Josh," Miss Stevens beamed at the end of it all. She
closed her notepad and put her penlid back on, and I breathed a sigh of
relief as I finished off the last of my tea, glad my freedom from this
room was coming soon. "I started off today disappointed and worried that
you were a hopeless case, but you've managed to save yourself a bit
throughout our session. As it stands you're not due any spanking at the
start of tomorrow's session - make sure it stays that way, okay Josh?"
she asked intimidatingly. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Miss Stevens," I replied nervously. "Is there, um... any homework
for tomorrow?" I asked, hoping the answer would either be 'no' or a
request as easy to blag as today's work had been.
"Not homework as such," Miss Stevens replied, leaning back in her chair,
"but I think we both know you're not all that smart, Josh, so I want to
clarify something so you don't slip up. You understand that I only spank
you when you give me reason to spank you, don't you?" I nodded. "Those
reasons are...?" Miss Stevens asked expectantly.
"Well, you don't like it when I'm rude to you, or swear, or stare at
you... and if I lie to you," I said.
"Correct, Josh. I'm glad you remember. Though there was another reason I
was so upset with you today - can you remember that one?"
"I, um..." I began, but I trailed off, hastily thinking back through the
session and drawing a blank.
"I was very displeased, Josh," Miss Stevens carried on, "by you
masturbating last night. I think it's an awful habit for you to have, and
I don't want you doing it again, okay?"
"What, at all?!" I gasped in disbelief. Masturbation had been one of my
favourite habits outside prison, and in prison it had become even more of
a focus of my spare time.
"Listen to me very closely, Josh," said Miss Stevens icily, fixing me
with a threatening glare,"apart from when you go to the toilet or wash
yourself I don't want your hands going anywhere near that troublesome
penis of yours. If you do, I shall have to escalate your restrictions to
ensure you receive the message. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Miss Stevens," I replied sheepishly, whilst grinning inside. I'd
listened very carefully - she'd basically told me that whilst I was on
the toilet or in the shower I could touch myself as much as I wanted -
stupid cow. Try and stop me masturbating, eh?
"Indeed," she muttered, her gaze not leaving mine, as if she could read
my every thought. "Same time tomorrow, Josh. Enjoy the rest of your day."
I intended to...
Jeannie
- 26.10.2021
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