LINDA'S LABOR DAY LESSON by Joe Doe LINDA LEARNS WHY THEY CALL IT "LABOR DAY" WHEN SHE ENCOUNTERS A PRISON GUARD IN THE LOCKER ROOM OF HER LOCAL HEALTH CLUB. "Hello, Senator. Remember me?" Linda Franklin looked up from her grim exercise routine on the rowing machine to see a lean, hard woman with greasy, slicked-back hair looming above her. Momentarily startled, she gazed up at the woman blankly. It was Friday night, and the long Labor Day weekend was just beginning. Linda wanted to exercise at the club and go home, not make new friends. "It's okay if you don't remember me," the woman said, continuing on. "My name is Stevie Randa, and I met you at the prison today. I'm in charge of reception." Linda blushed slightly at the memory, but kept rowing. During her "fact-finding" visit to the women's prison, she had specifically asked to see the reception area where the new prisoners were processed. She was visibly disappointed that there were no new arrivals scheduled, but she had passed the time by asking Stevie numerous and detailed questions about the processing procedure. Which room were the women required to strip in? Were they stripped naked? Did they strip totally, absolutely naked? How many women were processed at once? Did they all strip at once? How many guards were present? Did all the guards watch the women strip, or did they just chat among themselves? Did any of the women blush? Did the male guards ever watch? Were the women given their cavity searches before or after they showered? Which cavities were searched, and in what order? What happened if a woman resisted? Did the guards wear rubber gloves when they searched the prisoners or just "pinky protectors"? Did they wash their hands between searches? How much lubricant did they use for the vaginal search? Did the rectal exams require more or less lubricant? Did the new inmates ever cry? Had she ever searched someone she had known "on the outside," and, if so, what was it like ordering her to bend over for a cavity search? Were the rumors the male guards watched through the video monitors really true? How long was it before a naked female inmate was given clothes? At first, Stevie had been surprised that the obviously wealthy woman in the crisp blue power suit was asking so many questions. But, as the questions became more graphic and detailed, Stevie had begun to understand. The lovely senator was what the guards referred to as "a prison groupie," a woman turned on by the power games and humiliations of daily prison life. The senator's particular fascination seemed to be strip searches, although she also displayed a keen interest in humiliating details about the chain gang. After all, it was Linda’s tough new crime bill that had made the female chain gangs legal. Stevie realized the snooty senator was slumming for cheap thrills. It was ironic that she had timed her visit for the Friday before Labor Day, Stevie thought, since it was obvious that the rich, spoiled woman had never really worked a day in her life. At first, Linda's tough persona made Stevie think that Linda might be a butch lesbian like she was. But, when Linda began to blush and stammer as Stevie described the cavity searches, the guard realized that she had a true submissive on her hands. The pretty senator would make some con a fine bitch. Stevie knew the type well. Wealthy VIPs like Linda would strut through the prison like they were visiting the zoo, delighting in the putrid smells and foul treatment that the female inmates received. Like Linda, none of them had ever done a day of manual labor in their lives, and so they were fascinated by the tales of women forced to slave away under the broiling sun. Stevie had talked to Linda for only a few minutes, but, as a seasoned prison guard, she was able to read the senator perfectly. Linda had arranged the visit to the prison in order to boost her image after she had successfully busted up the pathetic union the prison guards were trying to organize. The state senator may have been a beautiful woman, but, when it came to matters of finance, she was as tough as nails. The guards' pleas for riot gear, better training, and better security had been dismissed as "pork," and she had squelched their attempts to get a raise by warning the guards that, if they tried to unionize, they would be living in a prison instead of running one. Stevie recognized Linda from her TV appearances, and the senator's union-busting gave Stevie one more reason to teach the pampered bitch a lesson. When she saw the senator working out at the health club, she had immediately struck up a conversation. Linda was standoffish at first, but, when she saw that the prison guard wasn't there to harass her about a pay raise or ask her for anything, she warmed up. As expected, Linda soon worked the subject back to strip searches and once again expressed her disappointment that she wasn't able to see what a real prison strip search was like. Stevie smiled indulgently. "If you want to see what a strip search is REALLY like, then meet me in the locker room when you've finished working out." Stevie winked as she left. Stevie lost no time in getting out of her exercise clothes and changing back into her matron’s uniform. As she had expected, Linda soon followed her, but Stevie hid in a stall while the senator prowled the room. The upscale locker room had ten separate shower stalls, each equipped with a private changing area. The swinging doors in front of each stall allowed modest women to save themselves the indignity of having to change or shower in front of spectators. The senator carefully closed the privacy door before she started to disrobe. Stevie smiled. In prison there were no privacy doors. Stevie waited for the senator to slip off her panties before emerging from her hiding place and striding across the locker room. Linda’s eyes went wide when she saw the uniformed matron coming towards her. Although Linda was behind the privacy door, she knew that if Stevie (who must have been nearly 5'10") walked right up to the door, she would easily be able to see over the top. And Linda was butt naked! She desperately tried to find her towel. Stevie was moving in fast, and she had only a few seconds.... "Hello, Senator," Stevie said, brightly, as Linda struggled to wrap her naked body in the towel and knot it above her breasts. "My, we ARE looking fit today, aren't we?" Stevie teased, running her eyes up and down Linda's bare legs. "Would you mind if I see your jacket, Senator?" Stevie asked the question, but didn't bother to wait for the answer. Linda shrank back as Stevie reached over the door and plucked the expensive jacket off the hook. Stevie examined the fancy designer label carefully and then neatly folded the jacket over her arm. "Do you still want to find out what it's like to be admitted to prison, Senator?" she asked. Linda stood silently for several seconds. She knew that she ought not do this, and that she was about to cross a line that she shouldn't. But the visit to the prison had left her hot and excited, and the conversation with the butch prison guard had pushed her even closer to the edge. "Yes, ma’am," she answered. She paused, looking down nervously down at her bare feet. "I want you to show me the whole procedure, from beginning to end." "Well, then, I think you had better turn over the rest of your clothes, Linda. Your suit is lovely; it's too bad they don't let you wear civvies in the joint. NOW, HAND IT OVER!" Linda quickly gathered up her carefully folded clothes and gingerly handed them to the grinning lesbian. Stevie took the clothes and the Gucci purse and casually tossed them into a nearby locker. Then she slammed the locker door shut and secured it with a small padlock. Linda winced as she heard the lock click shut. Stevie purposefully returned to the stall, removing the baton from her belt. It had taken only a few seconds for her to take away Linda's clothes and identity. From the look on Stevie's face, Linda knew that her pride was next. Stevie roughly opened the door and grabbed Linda by the wrist, pulling her out into the locker room. "Okay, fish, move it. This shower room is reserved for LADIES. We have another room for processing trash like you!" Linda was dressed in nothing but a towel, and she resisted when Stevie pushed her out of the locker room and into the hallway. Stevie had her by the scruff of the neck, and she had no trouble pushing the stumbling, nearly naked, barefoot senator down the hall. To her horror, Linda saw two well-dressed women walking down the hall towards them. She blushed crimson as the passing women commented on her predicament: "It looks like they've caught the little thief that's been stealing from the locker room," the first woman said. "I hope they give it to her up the butt at the police station." "Don't worry, they will," the second woman replied. "The little slut deserves it anyway for running around wearing nothing but a towel." "Filthy WHORE!" the first woman hissed. Linda clung desperately to her towel and was relieved when Stevie pushed her out of the hallway and into a TINY washroom in a corner of the building. The room had a small tub and an industrial washer and dryer used for laundering gym towels. The grim, dim room was lit by single bare bulb. The single dingy window was barred. It wasn't exactly prison, but it was close. "I'm glad I found you here on LABOR DAY, fish!" Stevie taunted. "Union-busting bitches like you don't know what it means to be a blue collar working stiff. You sit in an office all day, counting your money, while people like me sweat your fortunes for you. Well, this weekend, sister, you're going to learn why they call it 'LABOR DAY,' and what it feels like to be on the other side of the desk." Stevie pushed Linda toward a dirty shower stall in the rear of the room. "It's time to wash the STINK off of you!" she barked. "Into the shower!" Linda tried to resist as Stevie pushed her towards the stall. "Please don’t. It's...filthy! At least let me rinse it out and hang up a shower curtain first." "No time for that, Princess," Stevie growled. "I have a schedule to keep." She grabbed Linda’s towel from behind and, with a single swift motion, rudely ripped it away. Linda's hands immediately flew to cover her exposed privates. Stevie threw the towel into a corner and then turned her attention back to her naked, blushing prisoner. "All right, Princess, time for a scrub-down. I want to see soap and water EVERYWHERE, or I'll get a scrub brush and do it myself." She gave Linda a sharp slap on the buttocks, and the humiliated senator obediently scampered into the shower. Stevie turned on the water and chuckled as Linda jumped away from the frigid spray. Hot water was a luxury not meant for little jailbirds. "Now get busy, girlie, or I'll show you how it's done," Stevie said, casually tossing Linda a bar of coarse soap. Unfortunately Linda still had her back towards the grinning guard, and, when she tried to catch the soap, she missed. Stevie let out a low wolf whistle as Linda bent over to pick up the soap. "The bull cons are going to love that sweet little ass of yours, Princess," she snickered. "I know I sure do!" Linda reluctantly began to scrub her back and legs. She had just started to soap her breasts when Stevie gruffly ordered her to "turn around and face front." Linda hesitated. She was bare naked, and Stevie was only a few feet away. If she turned around, the lesbian guard would see EVERYTHING! "I said, 'TURN AROUND'!" Stevie snapped. "I need to watch you...for security reasons. Show me your goodies, or I’ll get the scrub brush and scour out that dirty little hole myself." Stevie let out another wolf whistle as the humiliated senator slowly turned around and exposed herself for the guard's humiliating appraisal. "Nice titties, fish," Stevie said. "Some of the cons like 'em big and floppy, but I prefer small, firm ones like yours. Is that little 'governmental lock box' of yours nice and tight, too?" Linda felt deeply, totally degraded, and part of her wanted to finish the shower as quickly as possible. But she was also more sexually excited than she had ever been in her life, and she eagerly obeyed as Stevie directed her through the rest of her shower with command after humiliating command: "Wash the bottoms of your feet! "Between your toes! "Now turn your ass around! "Scrub your back! "Quit dawdling! "Now scrub your butt! "Between your cheeks, fish. I want that asshole squeaky clean. "Now turn around and soap up those titties for me!" When Stevie turned off the water, Linda scurried across the room and eagerly reached for the uniform that Stevie had laid out -- orange running shorts and a tiny tube top with the word "PRISONER" stenciled across the front. The costume was brief and humiliating, but it was something to cover up with. Linda's hand was almost on the orange shorts when she felt Stevie's iron grip around her wrist. "What do you think you're doing?" Stevie barked. "I-I wanted to get dressed, please, Officer," Linda said, meekly. "Not so fast, honey buns. Officer Stevie still has to search you. I can't have a little slut like you smuggling contraband into my fine facility." "I...don't have any drugs," Linda protested, weakly. "Well, then you won't mind if I take a little look, will you?" In fact, Linda minded very much, and she watched in horror as Stevie reached into the small gym bag she had stashed in a corner. Stevie held up the glove for Linda's inspection and then playfully SNAPPED it onto her hand. Stevie regarded the blushing, half-crouching Linda, who was desperately trying to use her hands to cover herself. For the moment, the guard ignored the futile attempt at modesty and began to run her fingers through Linda's beautiful hair. "I search them everywhere...hair, ears, nose, and throat. There's just no telling where the little whores might be hiding something!" Stevie took a small flashlight out of her pocket and checked Linda's nostrils and ears. She then used her gloved hand and the penlight to rudely examine Linda's mouth, roughly ordering the gagging senator to "lift up your tongue and move it all around" and "open your trap wider." When she was done with that, Stevie held up a small tube of lubricant. "You know what comes next, don't you, Linda?" she asked, with a cruel smile. Linda's thighs instinctively tightened as the butch lesbian slowly greased her long, gloved middle finger. "I like to use really thin latex, so I can get a really good FEEL," she snickered as she held up her middle finger...and wiggled it in front of Linda's face. "Okay, sweet-cheeks, ASSUME THE POSITION!" Linda once again felt Stevie's hand on the back of her neck, pushing her down hard, until her hands were almost touching her toes. And then her feet were roughly kicked apart. Stevie slowly, teasingly, ran her pointer finger over the wet lips of Linda’s pussy, crudely asking, "Is all of this moisture from the shower?" She chuckled at her own wit. "You know, fish, this is the part of my job that I like best. I love bending over some stuck-up little yuppie for a pinky poke. You looked pretty snazzy when you strutted through my prison this morning, but, even then, I imagined what it would be like to strip you out of those designer clothes and order you to 'assume the position.' How does it feel to be my bitch, Linda?" Linda orgasmed as Stevie's talented finger slowly corkscrewed into her. It was Linda's first orgasm of the long Labor Day Weekend. But it would not be her last. ****************************** Twenty minutes later, Biff, the health club manager, looked out the window of his office and saw Stevie push a woman wearing a tube top and orange shorts toward the back of her prison van. The handcuffed woman was barefoot, and she was trying to walk gingerly across the hot asphalt. Biff smiled as Stevie shoved the prisoner into the back of the van. It was Friday, and Stevie had bagged a new "weekend volunteer" already. This was the third time in four months that Stevie had "arrested" one of Biff's customers. But he never got any complaints, and it was fun watching Stevie transform pampered gym queens into jail-house bimbos. He knew that the new "inmate" would be sleeping and eating at the jail and picking up litter along the highway this weekend. But he hoped that Stevie would remember to bring the new con to his house before her release Monday night. He wanted someone to dig a footer for a retaining wall, clear and roto-till his garden, and pump out his septic tank. Stevie had promised him that her "Labor Day inmate" would put in a lot of overtime at hard labor in his backyard. He chuckled as he watched the van drive off. He knew that, this weekend, the spoiled princess in the prison outfit would learn a whole new meaning for the term "Labor Day." Edited by C. Lakewood