Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Day twenty-One.

   Jeri was a magnificent, tall, toned blonde.  She had the perfect
ruler-like figure.  One could only tell that she was a perfect blonde from
her hirsute armpits.  Girls in the Cybersex Prison were always shorn of
head hair and bush.  The underarm hair was kept to afford the girls a sense
of embarrassment and a trap for their body odors.  Bathing was a rare
luxury and each girl emanated her distinctive animal scent.

   The girls were always housed in concrete rooms with only a brown wool
blanket.  There were no amenities, no tissue, no toilet paper, and no items
of personal hygiene.  The cell had upper and lower air vents on the left
and right walls and a single drain hole, a foot in diameter, centered near
the real wall.

   Jeri knew the routine well.  She would be handcuffed and prepared with
indwelling catheters, transducers, sensors, wires, and tubes.  After
preparation she would do her time---twelve hours---on the Internet game
grid.  After servicing the clients she would be unplugged, fed, watered,
and returned to her cell.

   It seemed to be a typical day.  Her time on the game grid was nearly
over.  She had been molested in the usual assortment of ways and achieved
over twenty orgasms.  Now she waited patiently while the plugs, wires,
tubes, and cables were detached from the blue plate about her privates and
anus.  From her hypogastric triangle to the cleavage of her buttocks, a
blue plastic plate tightly locked in the devices penetrating her vagina,
rectum, and bladder.  A bra-like device fit over her breasts.

   The handcuffs clicked, locking Jeri's hands behind her back, and she
rose to go to the processing room.  On a cold steel table she was relieved
as the assortment of devices were removed and the indwelling catheters
deflated and eased out.  She looked forward to some time sleeping on the
brown woolen blanket warmed by heating pipes deep in the concrete floor. 
She was exhausted and sore.  The soreness was endemic.  She was always sore
from use.  Sometimes she was less sore than others, but always sore,
swollen, tumescent, and engorged.

   Today she was directed to another area, not the cell block.  What was
going on?  She entered a strange hall.  There were many girls present and
multiple cameras: dolly, overhead, and fisheye.  The girls were each
wearing high heel shoes.  About each girl's waist was a thick leather belt.
There were two stainless steel rings, front and rear.  The girls' hands
were cuffed to the side.  Their fingertips could only reach the edges of
the buttocks or pudenda.  Whatever could be transpiring?

   Jeri was led to a shoe fitting station where she was sized and fitted
with a pair of high heel pumps.  Hers were red.  There were red, black, and
white high heel shoes.  Jeri noticed a tired look in another girl as she
was having her shoes removed and being led away.  Most of the girls were
wearing red shoes.  Those with black shoes were being out-processed.  It
dawned on Jeri that this was a second twelve hours of duty.  She quickly
noticed that some girls were dancing, some standing, some exercising, but
none were seated, sitting, or resting.

   "You may not sit," a female matron warned.  "You will be fed standing."

   A thick leather belt was fastened about Jeri's waist and her hands
cuffed in heavy leather cuffs to the side.  "You may only use your hands to
spread yourself," the matron instructed.  "You may pull apart buttocks or
vulva." There was no way that she could reach the orifices or any other
part of her body.  The female matron slapped Jeri's breasts.  "Understand?"
she asked.

   "Yes," Jeri answered, quickly adding, "Mistress."

   "Where is the 'thank you'?" the matron asked.  "Always beg for use and
always thank the matron."

   "Thank you, Mistress," Jeri appended.  She knew that a girl must always
beg for punishment or abuse and thank the perpetrator.  "Now to the feeding
station and then into the 'use pool.' You have twelve hours here.  You may
be asked to dance or exercise." Jeri was taken to a station where girls
were lined up.  One by one a matron was shoveling oatmeal into their
mouths. They were then given a liter of juice to consume.  As soon as they
had finished, they were pushed out into the hall full of girls.

   Jeri stood around for about fifteen minutes.  She did not venture to the
stage where girls were dancing or the exercise arena.  From time to time
she would notice a matron approach one of the girls standing around and
lead her away.  After another wait a matron approached Jeri.

   "Come with me girl," she commanded.  Jeri followed to a side room.  She
was unused to walking in high heels and had to balance herself.  All that
she was wearing were high heels and a heavy leather belt.

   "Against the wall, girl," the matron ordered.  "Head against the wall,
back towards me, and spread your cheeks." Jeri complied.  She figured that
this would be the typical body cavity search.  Her fingertips were just
able to reach about half of each cheek.  She was able to part her glorious
hemispheres and display her anus.  Her brown star nictitated in expectation
of the lubricated finger entering and probing.  What happened next was
unexpected.

   "Beg for use girl," the matron commanded.

   "Please use this girl, Mistress," Jeri replied.

   The matron stood beside her and swung a one-hundred eighty degree arc.
The "switch" was a rough rod with many pores.  Inside the central shaft of
the rod was salt dissolved in alcohol.  The switch fell directly across
Jeri's anus.  She screamed in unimaginable pain!

   "A girl must not cry out!" the matron admonished.  Jeri knew that, but
the surprise prevented her from restraining her pain.  "You will be rubbed
for that later." Jeri didn't know what "rubbed" would be, but it sounded
like punishment.  She did manage a "thank you."

   "Thank you, Mistress," Jeri added.  Then she knew to continue: "May a
girl enjoy another?" The matron was glad to oblige.  This time Jeri was
able to avoid crying out.  The second strike burned and stung.  She lost
her grip on her buttocks and her cheeks pinched together, concealing and
protecting her comely rosette.  The matron was angry.

   "Spread!" she barked.  Hot salty tears gushed forth and over hot pink
cheeks.  She was drooling and mucus fluxed from both nostrils.  Jeri
struggled to part her derriere again and begged for use.  The matron would
only be permitted six swats.  This was the third.

   Underhanded the third swat kissed perineum to cleavage.  The rod now
glistened with alcohol and was speckled with salt.  The stinging was
intense.

   "Now turn," the matron ordered, "back to the wall and spread upon that
pussy.  I want to see clit." Jeri knew that the next three would be along
her clitoris, urethral opening, and vulva.  At least her asshole would be
spared further abuse.  Or would it?

   "Please use a girl well," Jeri begged.  She was as convincing as
possible.  Her rear end burned like fire.  She had to tug on flat skin to
try and spread her pussy.  The leather restrained permitted her little
latitude.  At last the matron seemed pleased.

   "Inhale fully then exhale completely," said the matron.  Jeri was
familiar with the drill.  This was to minimize any groan or cry of pain. 
Jeri inhaled deeply and totally emptied her lungs.  It was a good thing
that she did as the flexible rod scored a mark from her navel, over the
hypogastric triangle, marking her clit, and digging into her pussy lips. 
Jeri convulsed.  Somehow she kept from vomiting.  Her head spun.  She was
sweating profusely and her wet underarms reeked of the scent of fear and
pain.

   There were two more strikes and Jeri believed she was done.  She noticed
many cameras recording the event.  For sure this was on line and being
broadcast over the Internet.  Then she remembered the "rubbing."

   "Before you return to the hall, you have some punishment coming," the
matron announced.  She turned to face several of the cameras.  Jeri stood
up.  "You can resist all you want to girl.  You can even cry out.  I don't
care."

   Jeri had noticed the two stainless steel rings fore and aft and wondered
how they were to be used.  The matron attached the end of the rod by its
hook to the rear ring and pulled it between Jeri's legs to the front ring.
She gave the rod a tug.  It began to ease between her legs, the rough
surface rubbing tender, sensitive skin.  Jeri tried to hold it in place by
pulling her legs together.  The matron kept pulling.  The rod bend and
oozed out salty ethanol as it cut ever closer to asshole and pussy.  Jeri
blanched.  This thing was going to rub her anus, clitoris, and labia.  She
clenched her buttocks as tightly as she could.  It didn't stop the thin
rod's rasping advance.

   Jeri tried to turn and pull away.  The matron laughed.  It just let the
rod dig in deeper.  The matron pulled and released.  Jeri tried to hold it
in place with soft tissue.  Her privates and rosette were on fire.  At last
the matron unhooked Jeri and returned her to the main hall.  She stood
there for over an hour.  Her feet were starting to ache in the high heel
shoes.  She needed to urinate.  She asked another girl in a whisper where
one could go pee.  The girl whispered back: "Here you hold your urine. 
Don't whisper again, they may catch us." Jeri suffered.

   Another matron came after another hour and took Jeri to the dance floor.
She tried to say that she didn't know how to dance, but knew that that
wouldn't help.  She had to twist and bounce about a dance pole for two more
horrible hours.  The need to urinate was becoming acute.  Then she was
taken to the exercise area.  She told the matron that she couldn't hold her
urine any longer.  The matron laughed.  "You can be pussy spanked for
peeing on the exercise floor girl." Jeri felt the tears swell up in her
eyes.

   Two hours of exercise and Jeri also needed to defecate.  She was
surprised that the girls were taken from the exercise arena and allowed to
use one of the open toilets.  Making her stool was painful.  She also felt
a sense of urgency.  The other girls were waiting, clearly holding their
urine and stools.  After each relieved herself another girl came along with
a rough rag and wiped each one.  The rough rag hurt.

   Jeri was horrified to realize that she had been standing all night long
and now would have to return to the game grid.  Her toned legs were cramped
and hurt from wearing high heel shoes for twelve hours without being
allowed to sit down.  She had been standing, dancing, and exercising for
twelve impossible hours.  Now she was to be prepped for another twelve
hours on the game grid.  A client wanted to see Jeri exhausted and deprived
of sleep for his special entertainment.  It dawned on Jeri that this might
go on for more than one night.  She shuddered at the sadism of the high
heel shoes, the thin rough rod, and the process called "rubbing."