CHAPTER 1

 

Ellen made a brave attempt to stifle the tears which threatened to trickle down her delicate pretty features. She was a naturally quiet girl, barely out of her teens and now, by virtue of having fallen in with the wrong crowd, she had fallen foul of the harsh new laws in 21st century England under which she had been sentenced to six month's penal service, slavery really, to the state to make redress. Her comfortably well-off parents had always sheltered her from the worst realities of life, but now they couldn't. She was on her own - and terrified.

Following the shock of her sentence and the tearful farewell to her parents and boyfriend in a court anteroom, it came very hard for her to be handcuffed like a violent criminal and herded onto a train with a dozen other 'offenders', all of whom had been dealt with in the same ten minute sentencing slot that morning. And before they left the courtroom came the indignity of a search.

"I'm gonna have to give you pat down," a large male guard in a military-style brown uniform leered, obviously enjoying the prospect.

Just five minutes earlier after trudging dejectedly from the court, she had been sobbing in her father's arms, the person who had always been there for her and protected her. Now she was in another room, another world almost, separated from anyone who remotely cared anything for her. Tears still glinting on her cheeks, she had to stand like a hardened criminal with her hands outstretched as the brute man ran his hands down her body, making her feel sick as he deliberately mauled her boobs and bottom before she had to climb into the prison van to be taken to the train station with the other 'criminals.'

The concept of then having her delicate wrists confined behind her and leg irons around her slim ankles was abhorrent. She hated the loss of control and had never felt so helpless and demeaned as she clanked on board the train, red faced and trying to ignore the amused looks from the other passengers as she stumbled and nearly fell whilst climbing the step.

"Up you go, sweet-arse, and my, it is," one of the guards accompanying them, a man in his forties with a shaven head, placed his hand on her bottom and eased her up, casually patting her curves as he did so. He was so coarse, quite unlike anyone she'd previously come into contact with; yet now she realised that she was at the mercy of such people. The thought made her go cold with dread.

"Aah, please..." she squealed, instinctively wriggling away from his touch which just seemed to amuse him more.

It was so demeaning, and all she could do was lean forwards and climb up into the train, desperately trying to keep her shapely bottom out of his reach, looking forlornly at the other uniformed guard, a woman, who plainly wasn't interested in her being touched up. With a shock she realised for the first time that she was now looked upon as a convict or felon, someone who had lost all rights and respect. She wished that she had known that she was going to be sent away so that she could have worn something other than her short mauve skirt and tight jumper which emphasised her trim body.

"Find seats here," the guard pointed to a couple of reserved compartments, then continued to chat with the hatchet faced woman guard.

"I've got a headache so no nonsense from you bastards or you'll answer to me," the female guard glared at them all before taking a corner seat by the corridor whilst the male guard sat in the other compartment.

Quiet and shy by nature, Ellen sat miserably staring out of the window, uncomfortable with her confined wrists, as she was taken several hundred miles from her home town to somewhere in the Lake District. She was trying to recall what little she knew of the type of sentence she had earned under the new system. Now she had to serve it in some new style remote village community, called Paradise Repentance Camp, or 'slave town' she recalled it had been dubbed by the papers, at the mercy of the live-in residents or warders whose job it was to knock them into shape whilst they did worthwhile work for the community. She stopped her miserable daydreaming and focused her eyes again, to see someone trying to attract her attention.

The boy opposite her in the train quietly introduced himself as Jim and she realised with a start that she had to try and get on with these people; they were her only companions now. He looked OK though, around her age, or maybe a year or so younger, with short blonde hair. There was also a pretty dark haired girl alongside her who whispered her name as Sally. The girl looked vaguely familiar, as did two other girls with her who had been split up into the next compartment. But Ellen, shy anyway, wasn't really up to talking. After exchanging names she preferred to wallow in her misery for the moment as she tried to come to terms with suddenly being wrenched away from her home, family and boyfriend to be at the mercy for six long months of the people in the horrid place she was being taken to.

It was a three hour journey but no food was offered them, not that she could face any, such was her nervousness. In fact because of that she had the embarrassment of having to meekly and quietly ask permission from the guard to use the loo. Thankfully the woman unlocked her wrist cuffs but she had the shame of having to perform with the door wide open with the guard looking on so that she was forced to try to keep her knees together under her skirt to preserve her modesty. This was such a rude awakening from her own secure upbringing, so unlike anything she had previously experienced.

They were only unshackled when, after alighting from the train, they were locked inside the prison transport with its secure doors and tiny barred windows. But it was a relief to regain the use of her hands. Her expensive wristwatch read 4pm when the prison transport van pulled up at the gates of the Paradise facility after an hour's bumpy journey from the station into the sparsely populated countryside. She gulped in dread as the van crawled through a huge gate surrounded by barbed wire and two watchtowers manned by armed guards in the brown military uniform. It was as if they were violent prisoners, or prisoners of war or something. There was what appeared to be a work party toiling on the land. The prisoners wore unisex short orange toga style uniforms. This ensured that the cleavage of the women was shamefully exposed, together with their legs up to their thighs. Whereas the uniform made the women appear enticing and the pretty ones, sexy, it simply made the men appear ridiculous. However, the attire couldn't conceal the vicious and thuggish nature of some of the male prisoners and it occurred to her shocked sensibilities that she was probably to be confined with such violent types. The prisoners she could see appeared tense, with strained faces, frantically tending gardens, marching or running about their tasks whilst in contrast the residents, wearing large yellow bands, looked relaxed and in no hurry.

It made her again quake in dread that in addition to being separated from all she knew and loved - and the harshness of the system - she could now well be sharing her life with murders and rapists. Her mouth went dry with dread; maybe her parents could get her out? They'd promised to try. All she'd done was to have been persuaded to take part in an anti-government rally, but her 'friends' had quietly sidled back-stage so that she was the one carried forward by the crowd and pushed into a policeman. And she was the one holding a stun-gun which someone had shoved into her hand to avoid it being found on them. The new law and order government came down hard on such things despite her exemplary background and lack of any previous trouble.

Camp Paradise seemed quite large, like a big village covering many acres with the perimeter wire barely visible in places, but with no cars on its narrow tarmac roads. Besides a few large halls it consisted mainly of large purpose built chalets, each surrounded by neat gardens. A part of it also extended down to the dark waters of a lake into which ran large pipes. It was some sort of water supply system, she presumed.

"All out! This is your new home!" bellowed a mean looking guard in his thirties. His muscled body and thin face topped with an eye patch lent him a sinister air of venom, someone not to be messed with. Ellen gulped at the prospect of such a person being here, in charge of her as he, along with the other guards, ushered them from the van into a reception hall. Outside, worryingly, was a large raised platform containing overhead bars with short chains hanging from them, like swings but without the seats. There were also what looked like old-fashioned stocks and raised rack-like devices. She licked her lips nervously, not daring to let her scrambled mind dwell on them. "At the double, into the centre of the hall, one prisoner per square, no talking, no moving!" the guard with the eye patch shouted, sounding like a sergeant major as he pointed with his crop to several rows of squares etched onto the wooden floor, each with a large wipe-clean white card and a marker pen on the floor in front of it.

One prisoner in their intake, a burly man in his twenties with his hair in a ponytail, had obviously had enough. Free from the handcuffs, he vented his feelings when a guard jabbed him with his truncheon to indicate the way.

"OK, man, we're doing it, there's no need to - haaaarghhhhh," he fell to the floor, curled up under a welter of blows from the truncheons of two guards.

Ellen felt sick, she'd always kept away from violence and now it was being administered, and so brutally, by those who were in charge of her, and there was no one to protest; no way she could walk away. Finally they allowed the bruised and bloodied man to stagger to his feet, clutching his stomach.

"There's plenty more where that came from, son, you only gotta ask - just step out of line," the brute with the eye patch prodded the man again and this time received no reaction apart from a groan.

Instinctively Ellen stood in a back row square away from the male and female guards swinging batons at the front. Thinking of safety in numbers, she made sure that she was alongside the three other girls in her intake, all of whom were pretty, she noticed. Again the faces of the girls looked slightly familiar, people from her home town, she guessed, but her mind was still too scrambled to think about it. Perhaps only the attractive female prisoners were sent here, she pondered miserably, especially as she recalled this place having a lot of media attention when it was set up a few months ago. None of her thoughts eased her torment.

"Stand to attention"" the guard continued to bellow. "This isn't a f-king holiday camp!" Ellen and her companions stood stiffly upright, tense, not daring to antagonise the brutes; she again licked her dry lips as the guard continued. They all gave him their full attention now.

"I'm the Deputy Commandant, someone you should shit yourself at the thought of," his good eye bored into their wide apprehensive eyes. "Be aware, scumbags, that if you're given an order here, you obey it yesterday, no talking back. My name's Jed but to all of you, everyone in authority here is 'Sir, or 'Ma'am." What you shits call each other I don't give a fuck," he chuckled. "On the subject of names, you'll each write your full name in big letters on the card in front of you and leave it visible for people to read from the front. Do it now, cunts," he spat.

Galvanised, like the others, Ellen squatted down and wrote her name as if this was a first day at school or a work course. Briefly glancing to each side she saw that the blonde girl on her left was Lyn. A girl called Penny was on her right - she had elfin-like short brown hair. The other girl from the train, Sally, was next to them. The names of the three girls weren't familiar even if their pretty faces were, but none of them seemed to know her, so she hastily concentrated on more pressing matters.

"OK you should all be back to attention now," the one-eyed brute snapped. "Read the rules printed up in each residence where you'll be allocated after your medical. You'll each be under the immediate charge of a local resident, someone with experience in discipline who volunteered to work here and supervise you shits; there's plenty of work to be done to make this place nice and homely," he smiled. "And also be aware that disobedience and rule infringements are punished here by corporal punishment - yes that means that your arses will probably get warmed up by your immediate supervisors, or more serious offences are dealt with centrally outside or within this hall. You no doubt saw the equipment on the way in," he laughed again, unpleasantly. "And finally, if anyone thinks they can beat the system and ride it out here - you can't. Whatever sentence you got, it can be extended locally here by up to five more years and beyond that if necessary, with repeat sentencing in the court. Yes my beauties," he smiled into each of their shocked faces, including Ellen's, "that means that you are ours for as long as it takes to knock out of you anything we don't like and until you can stand up on that stage," he pointed to the raised and curtained stage to one side, "and tell everyone present sincerely and believably what you have learnt here and why we should release you back into society. You'll only survive by absolute obedience before being considered fit to re-join society - on society's terms."

Poor Ellen felt sick. She'd somehow hoped to just keep her head down and somehow hibernate for the next few months. It was a tactic she used if she was sent away for a few days from her father's advertising agency where she worked - on, say, a residential course. She hated being out of her regular environment and would just curl up into herself until it was all over. Here, she realised to her horror, that wouldn't happen, she'd have to humiliate herself and take whatever they gave her just to be able to see the outside world of sanity again and escape the brutality. Even the smell of the hall, polish, sweat and fear, reminded her of a school or coursework room. It was an institutional smell and an environment of the type which she simply abhorred.

"Right, you're each being handed a plastic bag," he continued, nodding to a prisoner in the orange toga uniform, "you'll all shuck down naked. Put all your crap, including watches and jewellery, into the bag and seal it. When your name's called you proceed to the processing rooms beyond that door," he pointed behind him, "where you'll be medically examined before being allocated a residence and supervisor. You've two minutes to be bullock naked, standing to attention with your bags at your feet. I think you all know what happens if anyone disobeys." He swished his truncheon.

Ellen just wanted the ground to open and swallow her as she began to remove her watch and jewellery with trembling hands, putting her handbag in the bag and then beginning to undress. It felt so awful and unnatural, far beyond her wildest nightmares, to have to do so in public in a large hall. But whenever she hesitated she recalled the awful beating given to her fellow prisoner just moments ago.

Her fingers were still shaking as she tugged off her jumper and unzipped her skirt, then peeled off her tights. With her face bright red and sticky, standing just in her pink lacy underwear she looked around, seeing the other three girls and eight men in her party all stripping, she continued, reaching behind to unclasp her bra. This was hideous; she could only look at the floor after she slid her wispy panties from her toned thighs, sealed everything, all her clothing and belongings, in the bag and stood to attention. She couldn't have felt more lost and alone. Now, unlike her family and friends, she had no mobile phone or computer, no credit cards, not even any clothes or identity; she was just a frightened nude girl. Penny and Lyn were alongside her and Sally in front, all attractive in their shivering nudity, all equally tense and shamed.

Next the prisoner, presumably a trustee, was before her, collecting the bags of clothes in a trolley. Middle aged and with cropped haired, shifty eyes and rude tattoos, he looked mean and thuggish. She would normally look away and scurry past if she saw someone looking like that on the street. Now she couldn't, she had to stand meekly, stark naked before him, aware of his horrible eyes devouring her exposed body. How she longed to cover herself but daren't move; what had happened to her fellow prisoner with the truncheons was still too fresh in her mind. The thug smiled crudely as he stooped down before her to pick up the bag, his head 'accidentally' brushing her boobs, making them bounce, his hands also brushing down her thighs. His small eyes flicked over her trembling nudity.

"Mmm, such pretty little things." The beast somehow had her little lacy pants out of the bag and in his grimy hands. He held them under his dirty nose, sniffing crudely. She felt sick with shame and anger as she stood helpless, only able to watch him. "My, you smell so nice and sweet, but with a hint of fear." He licked his thin lips. "You won't be needing them here, they'll be nice in my collection." He slipped the tiny garment into a pocket. Ellen, mortified, looked around but no-one was taking any notice of him, just leaving him to it. "Confirm your name, young missy?" he asked, concentrating on his job again.

"E-Ellen, Haig," she whispered, her voice disappearing fast. She could feel the heat on her face as the brute again appraised her whilst checking what she had written on the card against his clipboard. Smiling lewdly to display a few missing teeth, winking at her as his eyes shamefully lingered on her body, he wrote her name on the bag of clothes before reluctantly moving onto to Lyn next in line, ogling her breasts.

"Listen up, people," the one-eyed deputy commandant was soon addressing them again. "When I call your name you march, just as you are, through that door for processing. First there's a shower stall where I expect you to wash yourselves thoroughly, make you less obnoxious for the doctors, then you'll see two doctor's cubicles. You go into whichever one is free."

Her name was called, third on the list, after having to stand in the hall without her clothes for over ten minutes, trying to ignore the guards strolling by appraising her, shaming her.

"Haig, Ellen, get your fat arse to the doctor..."