PACIFIC BLUE RIDDLE

                              by

                           Joe Doe 



THIS STORY IS BASED ON "VIDCAPS 29" FROM THE PRISON GIRLS WEBSITE 
(http://www.prisongirls.de.vu).  I NEVER SAW THE TV EPISODE AND AM 
NOT OVERLY FAMILIAR WITH THE SHOW, WHICH IS NO LONGER AIRED. 

HOWEVER, THE SCENE DEPICTS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENARIOS: A LUSCIOUS 
UNDERCOVER FEMALE POLICE OFFICER SENT IN TO INVESTIGATE A CORRUPT 
PRISON.  THE LOVELY LAW OFFICER, INNOCENT OF ANY CRIME, EXPERIENCES 
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LAW AS SHE IS MERCILESSLY SUBJECTED TO THE 
SHAMEFUL INDIGNITIES OF PRISON LIFE.  THE GUARDS, UNAWARE OF HER 
TRUE IDENTITY, VIEW HER AS JUST ANOTHER PRETTY BAUBLE TO STRIP AND 
SHOWER, PROBE, AND HUMILIATE. 

STRIPPED OF HER AUTHORITY, HER BADGE, AND HER GUN, THE ONCE 
POWERFUL POLICEWOMAN IS HELPLESS TO RESIST WHEN THE DREADED ORDER 
COMES FOR HER TO STRIP.  DEEPLY CONSCIOUS OF THE INJUSTICE OF HER 
SITUATION, SHE IS NONETHELESS FORCED TO SLOWLY DISROBE, GARMENT BY 
GARMENT, UNDER THE WATCHFUL EYES OF THE LUSTFUL GUARDS. 

A NUMBER OF PEOPLE REQUESTED A VIDEO OR EVEN JUST A TRANSCRIPT OF 
THE DIALOGUE FROM THE SCENES IN QUESTION, BUT NO ONE HAS RESPONDED.  
INSTEAD OF WHINING AND WONDERING, I DECIDED TO INVENT MY OWN 
SCENARIO....  

		******************************

Warden Wilmer Weesel looked down at the picture in the portfolio 
with a mixture of lust and resentment.  Officer Chris Kelly was 
beautiful, to be sure, but what business did she have running an 
undercover operation in his prison? 

The warden bristled as he recalled their previous meeting.  First 
off, he didn't appreciate the way they'd summoned him to police 
headquarters like he was some sort of errand boy.  Then, Kelly and 
her boss had announced her 3-month undercover assignment as if it 
were a foregone conclusion...as if waltzing into HIS prison were 
her right. 

Weesel detested Officer Kelly's smug and superior attitude.  He had 
seen her type come and go: smart "college girl" cops who treated 
the working class people in the prison system like dirt under their 
pedicured feet.  

He looked at the picture of the beautiful blonde officer and 
smiled.  Waltzing into his prison would be easy.  Waltzing out 
again would be another matter.... 

Chris had shown up for the meeting in the same casual clothing that 
she was wearing in the portfolio photo on the warden's desk: blue 
shorts, sneakers, and white t-shirt.  The suit-and-tie warden had 
found her casual outfit as insulting as her attitude.  Women in his 
prison knew the meaning of respect, and no female prisoner would 
dare to sit down until given permission. 

He fumed as he recalled the cocky Officer Kelly leaning back in her 
chair and putting her feet up on the desk as she patronizingly 
lectured him. 

He frowned as he looked at her picture again.  What was some bike 
babe doing on an undercover assignment anyway?  Shouldn't she be 
peddling around looking for litterbugs? 

She looked tough with her badge pinned to her belt.  "I wonder if 
she'll look as tough when I take her badge and gun away?" he mused. 

When she had mentioned that she wouldn't be contacting anyone 
outside the prison unless it was an emergency, the warden had 
tried to explain that no phone calls were allowed at all during 
the first 6 months.  

But she had talked right over him. 

He knew her kind all too well.  As a police officer, she considered 
herself to be miles above the "turnkeys" who ran the state's prison 
system.  Why should she listen to him?  She was a police officer. 

Well, this time it would cost her.  Since phone calls and visitors 
weren't allowed, she would be on her own.... 

She had stressed over and over the importance of maintaining her 
cover, and she had made the warden and the head guard, Tom Winston, 
swear repeatedly not to reveal her identity for any reason.  

"I get the point, Kelly," Warden Weasel had finally said, sharply.  
"I'm not stupid." 

"I wouldn't use the word 'stupid,' Weesel," Kelly had replied, 
arrogantly.  "But this is a police matter, and you should listen 
instead of talk." 

The warden bit his tongue.  Like most college girls, the pretty 
blonde officer had all the answers.  Well, soon she'd be just 
another pretty little jailbird in his cage. 

And he, too, had a few answers. 

He buzzed his secretary and asked her to send up his new head 
guard.  Tom Winston hadn't been his first choice; he was far too 
earnest for Weesel's tastes.  But, since he was the only other 
person who knew Chris Kelly's true identity, he had to bring him 
in on the arrangements. 

When Winston arrived, the warden got right to business.  "Tom, I 
believe that undercover officer is arriving today," he said, with 
a carefully feigned casualness.  "Will she be processed through 
our standard intake procedure?" 

"I set her up as a prison transfer," Tom replied.  "She was very 
specific about wanting to avoid intake." 

"I wonder if that's such a good idea," the warden said, 
thoughtfully.  "My first duty is to preserve her cover, and 
I think the other prisoners are more likely to believe that 
she is just another con if they see her processed through 
the regular channels." 

The guard looked doubtful.  "Are you sure about that, sir?" he 
asked.  "I mean...our standard intake procedure is...rather rough.  
I'd hate to put a policewoman through all that." 

"Your reluctance proves my point,"  the warden countered.  "Her 
intake SHOULD be as humiliating as possible, to remove any possible 
doubt that she's who she purports to be." 

Why anyone WOULD doubt her identity at this stage was a mystery to 
Tom, but he knew better than to argue with his imperious boss. 

"Is Officer Dyke working today?" Warden Weasel asked.  "Perhaps she 
should supervise Kelly's intake." 

"Yes, sir, she is on duty.  But she was transferred to a desk 
pending an investigation into those sexual assault charges." 

"Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about those charges, Tom.  
I want them dropped immediately.  The idea that some bimbo convict 
can impugn the integrity of a fine officer like Miss Dyke with 
trumped up charges is an outrage." 

Tom scratched his head, doubtfully.  "I think there's a bit more 
to it than that, sir.  There's testimony from several other guards, 
plus the videotapes she made of that forced lesbian sex show.  And 
then there's her practice of taking prisoners over her knee...." 

"I said that I want those charges DROPPED!" the warden thundered.  
"Drop the charges, and transfer her back to intake before Kelly 
arrives.  I need a matron who isn't afraid to slap a few bare 
fannies every now and then." 

"Well, sir, as you know she tends to single out blonde inmates for 
her cavity searches.  I was concerned that Officer Kelly might fall 
victim to...." 

"Drugs are a serious business, Mr. Winston, and everyone is a 
suspect.  If our head matron decides that Kelly's profile warrants 
special attention, then that's the way it has to be.  Besides, Miss 
Dyke might not even notice her." 

Tom highly doubted that the leggy and attractive Officer Kelly 
would escape the lesbian guard's attention, but he was discreet. 

"Sir, you do understand what your decision means, don't you?  Since 
she's no longer a transfer, Kelly will have to...undress." 

"Oh...really?" Warden Weesel said, innocently.  "I had no idea.  
Tell me, will she have to take off...much?" 

"Uh..she'll have to take off everything."    

The warden pretended to browse through some papers on his desk.  
"Well, I suppose that can't be helped," he remarked, casually.  
"After all, rules are rules."   

"Officer Dyke loves to march them past the male guards in nothing 
but their little pink towels," Tom said.  "Then she takes them to 
the shower area." 

"The shower area?" Warden Weasel asked, rhetorically.  "Well, I 
suppose cleanliness is next to...." 

"With all due respect, sir, it's not about cleanliness," Tom 
interrupted.  "It's about power.  Miss Dyke makes the girls stand 
in front of the showers wearing nothing but their towels.  The she 
looks them up and down...real slow.  She really takes her time.  
It's pretty obvious that she isn't looking for weapons." 

"Obvious to you, maybe," Weesel said, dismissively.  "I don't see 
anything wrong with a guard whose takes an interest in her work."   

Weesel tried to keep his voice casually indifferent, but the image 
of the proud policewoman being ogled by the butch prison matron 
left him highly aroused.  He smiled as he imaged the blushing Chris 
Kelly, naked save for the worn, itchy towel, squirming in helpless 
humiliation as Miss Dyke's eyes slowly traveled up her long bare 
legs.... 

It was Kelly's and abrasive attitude that made her humiliation so 
thrilling.  It was obvious from their meeting that she was used to 
being in control. 

THAT would change during intake!  Her undercover role had stripped 
her of her badge and her authority.   

Warden Weesel's intake process would strip her of her everything 
else...   

Her privacy would be the first to go.  Stripping to the bare skin 
in front of the leering lesbian matron would be a shameful 
indignity for the powerful and independent policewoman.   

But, as far as the prison system was concerned, Chris Kelly was a 
now just another convicted criminal.  Her modesty and dignity were 
of no concern… 

As a police officer she was used to wielding power; she was a 
leader, not a victim. 

But convict 3738-3838-84478 would be nothing more than an amusing 
piece of eye candy for Miss Dyke, just another blushing blonde 
bimbo to poke and probe, whose obvious embarrassment would make 
her forced striptease all the more entertaining.... 

The little princess had planned to float above it all.  There would 
be no strip search for her.  Oh no, that would be too degrading.  
Our luscious law officer's incarceration was to be as antiseptic 
as a trip to Disneyland, just an amusing story to tell her sorority 
sisters at the alumnae reunion. 

Warden Weesel smiled as he imagined the look of surprise on Chris 
Kelly's face as the guards handed her the box for her clothes.  
When the warden saw her horrified expression on his video monitor, 
it would be his turn to be amused. 

Weesel imagined the look on her pretty face as she scampered 
barefoot across the cold concrete.   Although it might have 
been more efficient to locate the stripping area closer to the 
showers, parading the scantily clad inmates past the lunchroom 
was a popular tradition. 

Warden Weesel had manoeuvred the schedule so that Chris Kelly would 
be admitted on a Friday.  On Fridays, the male inmates were brought 
in to scrub the floors.  Officer Kelly's audience would be large 
and appreciative. 

"Look at the new fish!" 

"She can bait me anytime!" 

"Here, pussy!  Pussy!  Pussy!" 

"Hey, Goldilocks!  Don't look so sad.  I'll come visit you every 
night." 

Miss Dyke would sometimes add to the fun by "accidentally" snagging 
an inmate's towel with her finger as the con hurriedly raced past 
the laughing, jeering men.  The woman would always try to retrieve 
her towel, of course, and Miss Dyke would reward her impertinence 
with a sharply delivered slap across her bare fanny and a harsh 
command to "MOVE ON!" 

Would Officer Kelly be allowed to keep her flimsy pink towel, or 
would she be forced to run past the jeering men wearing nothing but 
a blush?   

As much as he enjoyed the suspense, it was a riddle that Warden 
Weesel would enjoy solving. 

Then, after she ran the lunchroom gauntlet, the fun would really 
begin.  It would be time for her shower. 

Even if Kelly was naked in front of the lunchroom, Miss Dyke would 
return her towel when they got to the showers.  After all, if she 
was kept naked ALL the time, then Officer Dyke would miss the fun 
of stripping her again. 

Officer Dyke always stripped the girls one at a time, and she 
followed a strict procedure: ogle, sly comment, towel drop, more 
ogling, turn, more sly comment, fanny slap, shower.   

The first ogle was the worst.  Perhaps it was the sense of 
anticipation.  Perhaps it was because the flimsy towel was 
somehow worse than being naked. 

Whatever the reason, it was clear that the female prisoners found 
Officer Dyke's slow visual examination unspeakably humiliating. 

Officer Dyke always punctuated the search with a sly comment 
complimenting the prisoner on her "trim figure" or "beautiful 
blue eyes" or something similar.  The backhanded compliments 
were delivered like pickup lines.  Miss Dyke's leering remarks 
were designed to demonstrate that, in this strange world, it 
wasn't just MALE lust that threatened them. 

What would Miss Dyke compliment Kelly on?  Would it be her perky 
breasts?  Her long blonde hair?  Her shapely backside?  Yet another 
riddle.... 

After the compliment, came the simple words that every prisoner was 
dreading. 

"Drop the towel." 

The line would be delivered casually, as if it were no big deal.  
Drop your towel, strip yourself naked, show me everything.  Let 
me ogle you, and leer at you, and caress your body with my eyes.  
After all, you're nothing but a convicted criminal.  I'm the 
LAW! 

"Drop the towel." 

Chris Kelly wouldn't WANT to drop the towel, of course.  Who would? 
Dropping the towel would expose her to Miss Dyke's leering, 
lip-smacking inspection.   

But she would have no choice.  Warden Weesel smiled as he imagined 
the towel slowly sliding down to form a sad little puddle at the 
humiliated policewoman's feet. 

Was Chris Kelly REALLY blonde?  When the towel dropped, that riddle 
too would be solved.  

The shower wouldn't begin until Miss Dyke had finished her 
inspection: front view, side view, rear view.  Miss Dyke's 
searching eyes would cover every inch of Kelly's luscious, 
naked body, and she would be powerless to hide or cover herself.   

When the show was over, it would be time for another critical 
review.  Miss Dyke's second comment was usually more intimate 
and humiliating than the first.   

After all, there was no reason to be coy once the little slut was 
naked.... 

What would Miss Dyke say to her?  Would she pass judgment on her 
breasts?  Would she threaten to spank her cute little bottom if 
she misbehaved?

Another riddle.... 

Eventually, of course, the fun and games would end, and Kelly would 
be allowed to turn around and shower.   

A humiliating SLAP of ownership would propel the naked blonde 
forward into the open shower stall. 

Miss Dyke would doubtlessly watch for a few moments as Chris Kelly 
began to rub herself with the burning, stinking delousing soap.   

As the matron in charge, she would make sure that the beautiful 
blonde didn't miss a single crack or crevice.... 

When Miss Dyke had extracted the maximum degree of humiliation from 
Kelly, she would move on to the next woman in line. 

The process would be repeated.  After all, no matter how pretty 
Chris Kelly was, she was just another con. 

Warden Weesel hoped that Kelly wouldn't be the first in line.  It 
would be so much more delicious if she were forced to stand by and 
helplessly wait her turn, contemplating the gross injustice of her 
predicament as Miss Dyke stripped her predecessors down one by one. 

Doubtlessly, the horrified undercover cop would spend the time 
hoping someone would come and correct this awful mistake.  After 
all, she was a respected police officer, not some prison bimbo.   

Someone would save her. 

Wouldn't they? 

But no one would come.  One by one, the women in front of her would 
be stripped... 

	inspected... 

		humiliated... 

			showered... 

				deloused.			   

"NEXT!" 

As the women showered, Miss Dyke would walk up and down the line of 
shower stalls, inspecting their naked, soapy backsides as if the 
prison shower room was her own personal perverted peep show.... 

Which of course it was. 

Miss Dyke had the option of performing cavity searches on any or 
all of the girls.  Warden Weesel smiled.  If Miss Dyke had so much 
as brushed against Officer Kelly at the station, she could have 
been arrested for assaulting an officer.   

But once Chris Kelly passed through the front gate, the rules would 
be different. 

Miss Dyke would be legally empowered to strip Kelly naked and put 
her fingers inside her whenever she wanted.  And, if Kelly resisted 
in any way, it would be SHE who was committing the crime. 

How delightful. 

Chris Kelly's cover story was that she had written bad checks.  As 
a nonviolent prisoner with no history of drug use, there would be 
no reason to subject her to a humiliating and wholly unnecessary 
finger probing of her most intimate areas.  Such an examination 
would be totally unwarranted and gratuitous, particularly since 
she was supposedly being transferred from another institution. 

But Warden Weesel didn't doubt for a moment that Officer Dyke would 
search her.  The search was really a foregone conclusion.  Kelly 
was Miss Dyke's type: strong, blonde, and athletic.  The defiant 
and cocky look in Kelly's eyes would make her a natural target.  
Miss Dyke relished breaking the spirits of proud and independent 
college girls like her. 

The warden imagined Kelly gritting her teeth in humiliation as the 
butch lesbian slowly worked her greasy digit in and out, in and 
out...around...up...down...in again...now out. 

Like the rest of the procedure, Miss Dyke's search would be slow 
and luxurious.  

Officer Tom's annoying voice brought the warden back from his 
mental revels.  "In terms of her cell assignment I assumed we 
would put her in minimum security.  She's supposed to form a 
relationship with Cindy Marigold to discover where her boyfriend 
hid the robbery money.  I was going to make them cellmates." 

"Let's not be so hasty," Warden Weesel said, slightly annoyed that 
Tom had interrupted his fantasy.  "This is a 3-month assignment, 
so the first step is to establish her credentials with the other 
prisoners.  Let's move her into maximum security and put her in 
with Tony, Bertha, and Maxine." 

"Those three fat lesbians?" Tom said, clearly shocked.  "The 
reason there's an opening in their cell is that they put their 
last cellmate in the infirmary when she finally refused to go 
down on them.  They'll eat Officer Kelly alive." 

"Actually, it'll be Officer Kelly who'll be doing the eating," 
Warden Weesel thought as he tried to disguise his delight.   

Maxine was a former professional wrestler, Tony was a roller derby 
queen, and Bertha was just plain mean.  It wouldn't take the three 
of them long to turn Kelly into a good little rug muncher. 

"Officer Kelly can take care of herself," the warden huffed.  
"Besides, those three pretty much run maximum security, so if 
she earns their favor the other convicts will fall into line." 

Tom shook his head.  There was a certain twisted logic in the 
warden's argument.  However, the way that Kelly would "earn 
their favor" was MOST unappetizing. 

"I've assigned her to work in the library, so she can be closer to 
Cindy Marigold," Tom said. 

"That will never do," Warden Weasel objected.  "Bertha, Maxine, and 
Tony will keep her up all night, and she'll be much too tired to 
work in the library.  Let's give her a job in the fields picking 
cotton.  The fresh air and sunshine will do her a world of good.   
Make sure that Officer Nerdly is her supervisor." 

Although Tom was too new at his job to know it, Officer Nerdly kept 
up peak production by liberally strapping the bare bottom of any 
girl who fell below his ridiculously high quota.  Warden Weesel 
silently reveled in the image of the exhausted Kelly, fighting 
off sleep as she desperately tried to meet the ever-increasing 
quotas.   

Given Chris Kelly's shapely bottom, it would only be a matter of 
time before the creative Officer Nerdly found an excuse to strap 
her down over the punishment block for an old-fashioned fanny 
tanning.   

Warden Weesel made a mental note to verify that the video cameras 
in the punishment area could do close-ups.  He wanted to see the 
look on Chris Kelly's face as Officer Nerdly teasingly rubbed the 
strap against her tender, bare fanny in preparation for the first 
stroke.... 

"That reminds me, Tom, tell my secretary to make sure the video 
cameras are turned on in the intake area," he said, once again 
trying to disguise the excitement in his voice.  "I'll need to 
closely supervise Kelly's intake.  Naturally I'll want the tapes 
retained for my personal collection." 

"You have...video cameras...in-in the intake area?" Tom stammered.  
"Cameras in the...shower room?  In the delousing pit?"  

"Of course," the warden replied.  "As Warden I need to keep an eye 
on every girl.  Uh...I mean...on everything." 

"But, sir, do you really think...."  

"You're dismissed, Tom." 

Tom walked sadly out of the room.  Warden Weesel crossed over to 
the window and looked longingly at the front gate.    

The intake van with the lithe and sassy Chris Kelly couldn't arrive 
soon enough. 

He had tried to tell that pompous bitch that Cindy Marigold would 
be paroled next Tuesday.  But Kelly had interrupted him yet again 
with a story about her daring exploits.  When he tried to explain 
once more that her assignment was pointless, she interrupted him 
to brag about how her undercover assignment was going to rocket 
her to yet another promotion. 

After two quick knocks, the door opened, and his secretary popped 
in.  "The cameras are fully operational, sir," she said, quietly. 

"Thank you, Amy," he said.  She was a college coed, the daughter 
of a detested neighbor, until the warden had arranged to have her 
framed on that bogus "disorderly driving" charge.   

He looked the blushing 19-year-old girl up and down and smiled.  
"Why don't you stop by this afternoon for a little...dick-tation." 

"Yes, sir," the blushing prisoner said, staring at her shoes. 

He smiled.  After watching Kelly's intake he would be ready for a 
little stress relief, and Amy was the perfect girl to provide it. 

No doubt, after a few weeks of picking cotton, Kelly would be 
anxious to exchange time in the cotton fields for a little 
"dick-tation" as well. 

He scowled as he recalled the way they had summoned him.  His 
political connections were far more powerful than Pacific Blue, 
and he could have shut the assignment down with a single phone 
call.   

But, if a lovely little cupcake like Kelly wanted to place herself 
under his thumb, who was he to argue? 

He wondered, idly, What on earth she was going to do in prison for 
three months with no assignment to work on and no backup? 

The warden smiled as he watched the white prison van drive through 
the gates.  "That's a riddle I'll be happy to help her solve," he 
murmured.  "Fiddle-dee-dee," he chuckled.



Edited by C. Lakewood