David And Becky Casavana Prison Ch 01

A Game of Tease, Denial and Harsh Justice

This story contains graphic details of female domination. As well as scenes of explicit sex, there are scenes of whippings, canings and strappings, also sadistic tease and denial and use of male chastity devices. All characters are adults over the age of eighteen.

BOOK 3 -- David and Becky: Casavana Prison

This story is entirely fictional and is intended as a fantasy in the world of female domination and male submission. It involves tease and denial with the use of a male chastity device, cuckoldry and corporal punishment. No part of this story is written to suggest such lifestyles were realistic or believable. The characters, named and unnamed, are not based on any living or deceased persons. All locations, whether named or otherwise, in this story, including the nation of Siskovia Province, are also fictitious and any similarities to any that exist anywhere, are coincidental. If you are not interested in fiction in which males, whether willingly or forced, submit to dominant females, or find such subjects objectionable and in opposition to your own preferences, I would strongly suggest you exercise your right not to read any further.

Chapter 1

Day 1 - Saturday August 1st 2015 -- Part 1

As soon as the plane touched down smoothly onto the tarmac at Keara Airport in the South East of Siskovia Province, Becky placed her hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. On our descent, I'd been looking out of the window to my left at the hilly landscape of the country I would be spending some time in. Feeling her soft hand on mine did little to quell my fear of what lay ahead. She must have sensed my increased anxiety as she leaned into me and placed a delicate kiss on my cheek. I didn't respond.

There had been the usual ripple of applause from a handful of passengers as we landed, which turned into chatter and the rustle of folding magazines and rubbish being gathered. People who had been sitting in silence spoke cheerfully to their neighbours for the first time, safe in the knowledge the conversation wouldn't have to last long before getting off. The woman in the third seat on our row who had kept her head in a book since leaving Heathrow suddenly acted like she was interested in us.

"Where are you staying?" she asked Becky, as she packed her stuff away.

"I'm only here for the day," she responded. "My husband will be in the Province a little longer."

The woman looked at me and gave a sympathetic smile. "Oh, I take it you're here on a business trip."

I could barely raise a smile as I looked at her. It was Becky who answered for me. "Hopefully not too long before he's back home."

"What area of business are you in, if you don't mind me asking?" the woman said.

"I do actually," I replied, bluntly. I was not in the mood for prying women.

She clearly didn't pick up on my snappy answer. "Sorry, I was just asking what business you're in."

"I know what you asked," I began, hoping to finish with a rude, cutting comment that would make it totally clear I wanted her to mind her own business, but Becky squeezed my hand, hard.

"The judicial system," my wife said with a smile. "It's all very hush hush."

"Oh, I see." She reached across and patted my arm. "Well, I hope you get it sorted quickly so you can get home to your lovely wife."

I turned away once again to look out at the airfield as we taxied to the terminal. All I could think of was spending time in a foreign prison alone, and now that I was so close, the fear of what was to follow, terrified me. The only consolation was that the prison was run by females, and that the part where I would be held was not a conventional prison, but a female domination prison.

Becky managed to keep the woman occupied for the final few minutes before the plane was parked up and we were able to collect our hand luggage from the lockers above. I had travelled to a few European countries over the last few years, but I'd never been to Siskovia Province before, a country I knew hardly anything about.

We were through customs quickly, carrying our light hand luggage and walking out into the public area to look for our contact. It was very warm in this part of the world in August and even in a thin T shirt and shorts, I was sweating. Becky, in a short brightly coloured summer dress, held my hand tightly as we walked slowly along the line of taxi drivers who held up names on cards.

"Did they say who was supposed to be meeting us?" I asked. I knew my words had a harsh edge to them, but I didn't really care.

"She wasn't very clear," Becky answered, breezily. I could tell she was trying to appease me, knowing the mood I was in. "She said not to worry, that there'd be someone waiting."

As we reached the end of the line close to the large glass fronted exit, two women, dressed in uniform, saw us and approached purposefully. Both were around our age and looking very attractive and official in their black uniform jackets and knee length skirts. They showed no emotion as they reached us; one producing metal handcuffs from behind her back.

"Mrs. Emerson?" It was the woman with the lighter coloured hair who spoke to Becky.

"Yes."

"I am Officer Gabriela Nemescu and this is my colleague Officer Izabela Costin from Casavana Correctional Facility. Is this the person you have brought for trial? His name is David Emerson?" Her English was very good, and she spoke with harsh authority that even seemed to take Becky by surprise. I didn't know why she didn't ask me directly as I was pretty sure I knew my own name.

"Yes, this is my husband."

She turned to me. "By law, I must inform you of your rights. Casavana Correctional Facility is a private establishment under central rule of the Government of Siskovia Province. Adhering to this authority is not mandatory, but failure to do so will result in the Federal Justice Department taking you to Federal prison to be held awaiting trial at a later date. Do you understand?"

I looked at Becky and was shocked to see the hint of a grin on her face.

"Look at me, prisoner, and answer the question," she said sternly.

People were slowing as they passed us and I picked up some sniggers from those amused by my humiliation. "Yes, I understand."

"Do you accept the authority I represent?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Are you prepared to come with me, willingly?"

"Yes."

"Under the jurisdiction of the Siskovia Province Court of Justice, I place you under arrest" she said as she stepped inches in front of me. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back,"

As I followed her instruction with a quick appealing glance at Becky, the metal handcuffs were clicked onto my wrists. I was aware of other people in the area watching, and I was becoming very self conscious.

"Face me," she ordered.

I was wishing she would at least keep her voice down, but I said nothing and did as I was told.

She took hold of my right arm roughly while Officer Costin, a little shorter with a slighter figure, straight black hair resting on her shoulders, gripped my left.

"Mrs. Emerson, I have been informed you will come with us. Madam Popescu has offered to provide return transport to the airport when the proceedings are complete."

"Thank you."

"Please follow."

The two woman were surprisingly strong and I found myself lifted slightly by them as they dragged me to the exit. I found it difficult to walk because of the way they were handling me which seemed to be giving them the excuse to twist my arms painfully. A group of travellers held back as we marched out onto the pavement in the open air; they looked fearfully at me being manhandled by the two female officials.

Across the road, a dark green van was parked with another young, uniformed female official waiting for us. She unlocked the rear doors in time for me to be bundled into the back and onto a hard metal chair with my back to a thick mesh barrier positioned behind the front seats. The two women were experts at this, it was obvious, as they very smoothly attached my cuffs onto some sort of hook and pulled a leather seatbelt across my front. I found it uncomfortable and very restrictive.

Becky must have gone into the cab at the front, as my only company in the back of the van were the two arresting officers. They strapped themselves into more comfortable looking seats along the side of the van and began talking in their native language, completely ignoring me. Internal lights came on as the doors were slammed shut leaving only the shaded back windows to give any view of where we were.

And so, the journey to the Casavana Correctional Facility had begun. How I'd got myself into this situation was mostly my own fault, it was through gambling, and yet I really didn't have a problem with it. I always liked the occasional flutter on big horse races like the Grand National, and had visited the local casino once or twice with friends. Even there, I was more interested in having a few drinks and a laugh. But after being released from prison just over a month ago, and Becky deciding to spend my first free week on holiday with friends, I was feeling quite angry about things, and certainly a little sorry for myself, so I accepted the invite to go to the local casino with some of my friends; a place I'd been with them on several occasions.

Going back alone a couple of days later, I ended up, because of certain events occurring, going out with one of the very attractive employees for an innocent drink. Ending up together in my apartment, something very not-innocent may have ensued if Becky hadn't telephoned me at the worst possible time to inform me she was on her way home from her holiday. A few days after she got back, Becky and I spent an evening at the casino together. We discovered the owner of the casino, Tashrina Popescu, was offering a bizarre, but generous, promotion which I ended up accepting. That did not work out well for me; I became the first person ever to lose out on the promotion resulting in me losing a thousand pounds and owing another three thousand pounds to the casino.

Unfortunately, Tashrina Popescu is also the owner of a private prison in Siskovia Province. Having private justice saves the Siskovian taxpayers millions of pounds a year and is very much in favour for those committing lesser crimes. They are dealt with legally by these private concerns who are allowed to dish out imprisonment punishments backed up by the Siskovia Province Justice Department.

Madam Popescu doubles her regular prison with her other business, female domination tourism, where men, and sometimes women, pay to be imprisoned and punished in many different ways for periods of time they choose. During their stay, customers are treated like real criminals, being beaten, starved, tied up, or anything else the beautiful cruel prison staff choose to inflict. She also runs a spa; 'a relaxation club for men', a slightly less legally acceptable business, on the same site. This throws up an interesting contrast, with men locked up suffering in real prison cells, while other men, close by, enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with beautiful women.

The promotion started with me gambling one thousand pounds of my own money. I was to be given the chance of retrieving any losses by a simple me against Tashrina high card game. Each of us had our own pack; mine was complete, but hers had all picture cards and aces removed, which stacked the odds heavily in my favour. If I lost, the debt doubled, if I won, I'd get my losses returned. I was given six attempts to recoup my losses, but after losing the first two which increased my debt to three thousand pounds, I chose to cut my losses and accept Tashrina's offer of two weeks behind bars in her femdom prison.

However, Becky, without my knowledge, returned to Madam Popescu and persuaded her to turn a third card; she said she was trying to save me from having to come here to the prison at all. But she lost on the turn of the card, leaving a debt of seven thousand pounds. To quit at that point meant my sentence would now last longer than the original two weeks, the final length I would only find later that day when my case was heard by the court.

When Becky told me this, which was only twelve hours earlier, I was absolutely livid with her, and was finally realising our games had gone too far. Unfortunately, I couldn't get out of coming here as the whole deal was nicely packaged in legal tape.

The thing I was a little confused by was this: as people, mainly men, paid to spend time being punished there, why was I being sent there for free to pay off a debt? But then it was explained to me. I would be there long enough for it to be genuine punishment, and Madam Popescu would use me to reward her female guards by giving them the pleasure of having a legally incarcerated male at their mercy for much more than the three days maximum duration paying customers stayed.

Becky tried to console me by saying: 'If I got two weeks for a three thousand pounds debt, hopefully a seven thousand debt would maybe only double it to four weeks; which wouldn't be the end of the world.' Whatever the sentence, I would be compelled to accept, as this was now an official legal matter covered under the Federal Law of Siskovia Province.

Over the three years we had been married, female domination had become very much the norm for us. The emphasis had been on Becky severely restricting my orgasms while at the same time unmercifully teasing me, sometimes for several weeks. During these occasions, she would make me wear a male chastity belt, a hard plastic contraption that imprisoned my flaccid penis allowing no growth whatsoever. We called it my cock cage as it was made of thin, but sturdy, plastic bars.

She had even introduced another couple into our relationship, Gina and Liam, who joined in the teasing sessions. Becky would use them to drive me insane, joining them in sexual threesomes with me, a frustrated spectator, forced to watch as both woman gave Liam everything I was unable to enjoy. All this while wearing the dreaded cock cage holding my penis as it strained to grow to erection; the effect was unbelievably frustrating.

Gina had even caused me to spend time in prison back home; I'd been released only five weeks earlier after being inside for four weeks and three days. I had missed a red traffic light causing another car to swerve, crashing into a lamppost but injuring no-one, and Gina reported me as revenge for me accusing her of stealing from me, which she had. What made the humiliation even worse for me was after having received a caning from Gina, it was only then I discovered it was she who had reported me to the police. And to rub salt into the wound, Becky went off to Crete with Gina and her partner, Liam, for six weeks of sex in the sun while I languished in prison. As an added coincidence, Gina had worked for a short time at a dodgy massage parlour owned by Tashrina Popescu and was even being trained to work as a dominatrix in one of her dungeons in the UK.

The journey in the stifling heat of the van with no aircon or windows to open was unbearable, but thankfully it didn't last too long. My accompanying guards took off their jackets and loosened their shirts and drank plenty of water without offering me any. It was probably only around half an hour before we arrived at our destination, which from looking out of the rear windows wasn't too far from the city we'd just left. Passing through a set of tall gates, the van came to a halt.

My guards unstrapped themselves as the back doors of the van were noisily unlocked, and when they were opened, I had to avert my eyes from the brightness of the sun outside. I just managed to get a glimpse of the fields beyond the facility as heavy, outer wall doors were closed by a couple of female guards. My restraint was released and I was dragged out of my seat and practically thrown out of the van. With my hands still cuffed behind my back I landed awkwardly only just managing not to fall.

Becky was out of the cab too, and she smiled a little guiltily, but very sexily, at me. I expected her to come over to see me, but instead, she went inside the main entrance of the building next to where we'd parked while I was manhandled by Officer Nemescu and Officer Costin through a smaller, less significant door. Despite my fears of what was about to happen to me, being surrounded by such sexy women having power over me, I was beginning to feel a slight stirring in my penis.

I was taken to a room inside the building, it was a fair bit cooler inside the stone walls which was a relief. The two guards came in with me and closed the door behind them, they looked so sexy and hot, perspiration on their foreheads, faces flushed and clothing looking ruffled. Officer Nemescu took a long drink of water from a fresh bottle and handed it to her colleague. My mouth was dry and I watched them greedily quenching their thirst.

"You want some?" Officer Costin asked, holding the open bottle towards my mouth.

"Yes, please," I answered with relief.

She pulled it back and finished the bottle herself, both of the officers laughing at my gullibility.

"You'll get a drink after the trial when you go to your cell," Officer Nemescu said. "Or if maybe you get freed with a not guilty decision, you are free to get your own."

Again, both girls laughed at the obvious absurdity of such a decision being reached.

"Ok, Mr. Emerson," Officer Nemescu said, standing close to me. There was a faint smell from her of sweat, mixed with perfume, it was intoxicatingly sexy and once again my penis stirred. "There are many, many rules for you to learn. Every time you break one, you get punished. We will teach you them and you will learn fast. You will address me as Madam Gabriela. You will address her as Madam Izabela. Every time you speak, you say our name like that, ok?"

"Er, yes, Madam Gabriela."

"Most important rules to start you off. You do everything you are told quickly and without question. You do not speak unless we give permission. You answer any question quick and truthful and say nothing more than we ask?"

"Yes, Madam Gabriela."

She stared at me for a few seconds as if trying to provoke me into speaking, I was genuinely fearful of her at that moment so I looked down at the floor.

"If you struggle, you will be punished," Madam Gabriela said, walking behind me.

She unlocked my handcuffs and I rubbed my wrists where the metal had dug into my flesh, but then she gave me another instruction.

"Take off all your clothes," she ordered.

"All my clothes, Madam Gabriela?" I asked.

"I want you naked," she said, forcefully. "Now. Quickly."

It felt very humiliating stripping naked in front of them, especially when my penis started to grow to a semi erection.

Both guards knelt down: Gabriela behind and Izabela in front. They fitted thick leather cuffs to each ankle with a chain, only about a foot long, connecting the two; that was going to restrict my walking quite considerably. Then my arms were pulled behind me again and the handcuffs re-attached. I was now feeling frightened and humiliated and very much at their mercy.

"I am pleased and disappointed in you, Mr Emerson," Gabriela said, standing up and walking in front of me. "I am pleased you have been obedient, but disappointed you gave me no reason to punish you."

That was a worrying thing for her to say, I thought.

"But you will learn the lesson that punishment is given sometimes even without disobedience." She turned to her colleague. "Give him the strap once on each buttock to let him know the pain we can give."

Before I could protest, Madam Izabela whipped a thick leather strap across my right buttock, the sharp, stinging pain causing my knees to buckle. She waited until I'd straightened my legs before aiming another stroke which connected fully with my left buttock. The pain was just as severe, but I was much more prepared for it this time.