It was three years later that Zachary Hill, inmate number 77552, found himself standing with twenty other guys in the gray room at StarCo Industries. He had gotten himself a five-year stretch for grand larceny. He had gone for a joyride in the car belonging to the manager where he worked as a hamburger flipper because the guy had cut his hours. Instead of just firing him, the asshole had pressed charges.
A year into his sentence now, at nineteen, Zach jumped at the chance to spend some time outside of the prison doing something different. He didn't know what it was, but he did know that they were recruiting younger guys. Most likely, it was some kind of work detail. The capper that sold him and most of the other inmates offered the opportunity was that after a six-month stretch, their sentence would be commuted to time served and their records expunged of the felony conviction. As to how they were supposed to explain to any potential employer the reason for their extended absence from society--that was up to them to figure out.
"All right you motherfuckers!" screamed a loud, gravelly voice. A statuesque raven-haired brunette in her mid-thirties who looked to have once been a bodybuilder strode into the bleak room. She was clad in a black, form-fitting outfit that looked like a cross between tights and a wet-suit. Her eyes were as black as coal, her skin a deep tan. To Zach, she appeared to be of the same stock as some sort of South American runway model.
Ten more women, none of whom Zach would have liked to meet in a dark alley, came in after her and took stations at multiple points in the room. Each was armed with a can of pepper spray, a stun gun, and a nasty-looking sap. Plastic handcuffs stuck out of their belts, ready to secure some dumb bastard who made a scene.
"Line up on the red line!" the brunette yelled. "NOW!" The men did as they were told, each casting about wondering what was going on. Many of them had not seen a woman in a year or more and their re-introduction to the females of the species was not going well at all.
"I am Misty Van Dietz, Captain of the Guards here. First of all, if any of you cocksuckers even twitch, one of my ladies here will make you wish you were dead! You don't fucking blink or breathe unless we say it's okay!"
Carlton, Zach's former bunkmate, giggled nervously. Van Dietz was on him in a flash, hitting him with the stun gun and leaving him a quivering mass on the floor.
"There's always one, right ladies?" Van Dietz said returning to her place. "Now I'm only going to tell you pieces of shit once to strip down. Every last piece on the floor in front of you, skivvies and all. Got it?"
Zach was no stranger to strip searches but it was never, ever in the presence of a female guard. Nevertheless, he peeled himself out of his prison blues as another unfortunate was clubbed to the floor by one of the guards when he failed to lose his underwear. In less than a minute, they were all naked and Zach thought he heard some of the guards snorting at their predicament. They all covered themselves self-consciously, modesty--which was a luxury they didn't have in the prison--returning in the presence of these sneering women.
"Hands by your sides, you motherfuckers!" the Captain of the Guards yelled at them. Two of their mates were already down for practically nothing and being dragged out, so the remaining prisoners obeyed instantly.
"Miss Gravestone?" Van Dietz said. The door opened again and in strode a tall, gorgeous platinum blonde with the most flawless porcelain skin Zach had ever seen. The only imperfection in her hair was the red streak she'd dyed into it. Her body was hugged by a form-fitting leather bustier and a long leather skirt with a split all the way to her hips. Zach swallowed hard and to his horror, discovered that the sight of this woman was arousing him.
