Chapter 11
When Beth Calhoun was released from the isolation ward, she was brought at once to the office of the superintendent. Alma Burbage received her cordially, which ought to have been enough to put Beth on her guard. But the unfortunate young beauty had been so crushed and annihilated by the degrading treatment she had already received (having to strip naked and then being led down to get her clothes in that same au naturelle condition and then being locked away from every one else for two days and nights), that she almost pathetically strove to make a friend of the perverse superintendent.
"So far, Calhoun," Alma Burbage coldly used the prisoner's last name as part of her treatment to make each new inmate feel herself at the very bottom of the social scale and thus be acquainted with her inferiority from the very outset, "there are no demerits against you, although Head Matron Durkin thinks you are just a bit too impertinent. I'd watch that if I were you."
"I-I'm sorry, Miss Burbage."
"Well, we expect that this must be hard for you," Alma said with a certain graciousness in her voice as she stared greedily at the lovely dark-brown-haired prisoner standing before her with head bowed and arms at her sides. "Now you are going to have some tests, and they will take most of the morning. By late afternoon, I should find out from Dr. Edwards what your I.Q. is and what your tendencies are for work, and then I shall assign you to a special detail. You were an office girl in an insurance company I gather from your dossier. We have a library here, but we also have essential work like laundry and kitchen and latrines. However, you may be sure I'll make the proper disposition of you after you have taken the tests. Now you may leave and go to the office at your left where Dr. Edwards is waiting for you."
"Thank you-thank you very much, M-Miss Burbage," Beth Calhoun faltered.
She rose and left the superintendent's office, and Alma Burbage stared after her, watching the undulations of Beth Calhoun's voluptuous ass. She could hardly wait to see those bloomers come down and that nice soft white skin redden under a good sound spanking. But if all went well, she would prefer to do that in her own private quarters so that Beth would be her own little slave bitch with no one else to interfere. The trouble with spanking a girl publicly, as with Amy and Christine the other day, was that these girls lost their fascination for her. A good hard whipping such as they had had drew out all their potential, and so there would be no surprises for her. But this delicious new inmate, not yet introduced to Lesbian love, would make a prime prize and so Alma Burbage intended to win Beth Calhoun's voluptuous young body to her bed. . .
The tests were not particularly difficult, and Beth finished them quickly and was then taken back to her new cell by Flossie Durkin. For a week, it would be a private cell, and after that if all went well and the girl had no demerits, as Flossie previously explained, she would then be roomed with another prisoner. This would depend to some extent on how many new inmates they received and a number of other circumstances;-none of which Flossie Durkin felt it necessary to explain to the bewildered and unhappy young woman.
But this very evening, Flossie Durkin had already agreed with Alma Burbage, Beth Calhoun would be "tested." And her reaction would determine precisely what would happen to her.
At the end of the afternoon she was again called to the superintendent's office and then told that her tests had been most satisfactory and that she would be given library work. It would start the following Monday. "If your record is good and you have no demerits, it's possible you can have parole inside of nine or ten months. It's all up to you, Calhoun," Alma Burbage concluded. "Now Head Matron Durkin will take you back to your cell and soon it will be time for supper. You've made a fair start, don't spoil it. I want to hear no complaints, I want no scenes, I want you to do your work and keep your mouth shut at all times. Matron Durkin will give you a book of rules to read, and I hope You'll memorize them. It will help you along in your stay here. That's all."
Lights went out promptly at ten o'clock. Some of the prisoners were allowed radios and others had books from the library, if their disciplinary record was good. But no radio might be kept on after ten, no matter how low. As Beth Calhoun lay on her cot, her head pillowed in her hands, staring up at the dark ceiling and realizing with a terrible immensity the many long terrifying nights that would unroll before she would at last step out of this place a free woman again, she heard a cry and then what sounded like a slap followed by an angry voice: "I've had just about enough of your tricks, Best-wick! You're going on report tomorrow, and Head Matron Durkin will have something to say to you, I'll be bound. Now lie over on your stomach and go to sleep. If I come in here again and catch your playing with yourself, you'll get more than a slap from me."
Beth Calhoun blushed. She had of course read about the isolation and the lack of sex in all prisons, and she had probably guessed that girls among themselves played with themselves as she had done before she had lost her maidenhead to Al Barker. Just as in male prisons, men without women had to use one another or else themselves. But till now it had been only a theoretical kind of knowledge, in the back of her mind and with no particular interest for her. Now suddenly, hearing that quite audible tirade from the matron, she blushed for shame when she thought that that poor girl was perhaps missing a husband or a sweetheart and was playing with herself in an attempt to recreate his presence here in this dreary prison.
The footsteps came closer, and suddenly they stopped outside Beth Calhoun's cell. The next thing Beth knew, a flashlight was being shone into her face. "You're Calhoun, aren't you?" the matron hissed. Her name was Dulcy Gromer, and she was short and fat and had a sour body odor. She was one of the newer assistants hired only about six months ago, and her own innate cruelty had made her a prime favorite with Alma Burbage. Dulcy Gromer had long hated pretty girls, and men also, because in her earlier life had kept her from being sought after by men. She had seen how they went for pretty girls instead, and her own sister had been attractive and had married a very handsome man that Dulcy secretly yearned for. So here at Keson she had her chance to avenge the shabby deal which fate had given her, taking it out on luckless attractive girls whose only crime was being here and being helpless to avert what was done to them.
There was a jangling of keys as Dulcy Gromer unlocked Beth Calhoun's cell door and moved in. "Stand up when the matron comes into your cell, Calhoun!" she snapped. "Arms at your sides, head up, in attention!"
Beth obeyed, blushing with shame and lowering her eyes as the fat unprepossessing matron scrutinized her. "Well, you're not bad-looking. Sort of young. What are you in for?"
"Accessory to th-theft," Beth Calhoun gulped, her blushes even more violent than ever, wishing she could sink through the very floor.
"Speak up when I talk to you! Now then, a little thief, eh? You won't steal anything here. Any complaints?"
"Oh no!"
"Call me matron, you little slut!" Dulcy Gromer's right palm flashed out and collided sharply with Beth Calhoun's right cheek. The young woman uttered a startled cry, put her hand to her cheek and stared tearfully at her tormentress, "and don't give me that baby doll look of yours, it won't work, Calhoun! You know what will work?"
"N-no, M-Matron," Beth Calhoun quavered.
"Doing what you're told. Keeping your mouth shut, making friends with the matrons. like me now. You and I could get along just fine, dearie. If you're a good girl. I can save you a lot of demerits, get you more food, help you with your job. So Miss Burbage will write you down as a good fish, and that'll help you with the parole board, see what I mean?"
"Yes-Matron."
"I thought you would. Say, you're real pretty. Ever have a girlfriend."
"Oh no, M-Matron!"
"Don't look so shocked. Now that you're here for what is it-three years--? Anyhow, you're going to be wanting somebody to love you up, with a shape like that and those nice red lips of yours. I can tell you're sexy just by looking at you here. Only there won't be any guys, so you might just as well take what's around. If you keep your mouth shut and act nice, it can be real sweet for you here, see what I mean?"
"I-I don't want to do anything I shouldn't and I don't-I never have-"
"You've never been with a woman, is that it? Great! Half the broads in this place would give a week's food to find that out and to snuggle right up to you now, Beth baby. Take off your dress and your slip while you're at it. Then stand up, and I want to see you at attention"
Beth Calhoun shamefacedly obeyed and stood in only the cheap bra and bloomers, stockings and shoes. Matron Gromer studied her, eyes narrowed, her lips curled in a cruel little grin. "Now take off your bra, honey."
"But-I already had a physical."
"Are you talking back? You want some demerits, huh?"
"Oh no-no please no!"
"All right, do what I told you to then. Well, that's better. Mmmmm, you got gorgeous tits, honey. You really do. Lemme feel them, and don't your dare move or use your hands to push mine away, or you and I are going to have a little paddle session tonight."
As the bra dropped to the floor, Matron Gromer sucked in her breath and put her hands out and began to squeeze and caress those heaving young titties. Poor Beth Calhoun looked down at the floor, closed her eyes tightly, as if to obliterate the sight of the matron's flushed, ugly face. But the feel of those pudgy fingers on her titties made her whimper with disgust and shame.
"Now let's have those bloomers off, baby," was the next command.
"Oh please-"
"What's this? Are you gonna make trouble now?"
"Oh no-I'll-I'll do it, M-Matron!" poor Beth Calhoun yanked down the bloomers and was naked except for her stockings and garters and shoes. The cruel matron stared greedily at that thick dark-brown cunt fleece. Her hands went back to fondle Beth's titties, and then moved down the girl's belly, on to her furry bush. But when she felt a forefinger invade the citadel of her cunthole, Beth Calhoun uttered a shriek and recoiled, clapping her hand over her pussy and gasping, "You-you haven't got any right-oh please don't-please, no!"
"Well, ain't we the little princess though?" Matron Gromer sneered. "Okay, put your duds back on and go right to sleep. So you don't want to play fingers with me, huh? Honey, it won't be long before you'll be begging to love me up in my room. Maybe I will and maybe I won't. And in the meantime I'm gonna tell Flossie and the super that you're nothing but an uppity little bitch. Now you go to sleep."
Dazed, shamed, agonized with fear over this veiled menace, Beth Calhoun obeyed and then flung herself back on the cot and burst into tears as Matron Gromer left the cell and locked it. She heard the matron's cynical laugh as the latter resumed her rounds. And she prayed that somehow a miracle would happen to take her out of this hellhole.