I was wearing a brown sack with a rope tied around it. I was kneading dough and humming. It was a good day. I was getting good work done.
"You should see what the prince was wearing," said Gertrude. She was also wearing a brown sack with a rope tied around it.
"I
hardly
think we're in a position to mock other people's outfits," I said.
"Perhaps, but we didn't choose these outfits."
"On the contrary. We chose them when we committed our crimes."
"Hmm," Gertrude looked down at her work with a grumpy expression. "I suppose you're right."
"Megan," said a voice behind me. I turned to see the Chief Correctional Officer. "Stop your work." I obeyed, turning to face him and standing perfectly still with my arms by my side, ignoring the flour on my hands. This was the custom. "You have been found guilty of stealing. You were seen eating some leftover bread that you did not ask for. Assume the punishment position."
"Yes sir." I untied the rope and pulled off the sack, revealing my naked body. I got down on all fours with my butt facing the Chief. He took the paddle from his belt and brought it down on my butt.
CRACK!
"One! Thank you, Chief!"
This, of course, brought me back to when I was an ENF. I wondered what Sir was doing at that moment.
----
I was naked. My arms were tied behind my back.
The thing that always struck me about how Sir tied me up was that it wasn't
uncomfortable
. The ropes themselves felt soft to the touch, never giving me a burn. My circulation wasn't cut off, my arms were never allowed to ache - he would change up the way i was tied up frequently - and I was never in any physical pain. I just... wasn't allowed to move. I was stuck.
We had left the barbarian village and wandering through the forest. Sometimes we passed by strangers, who would delight in my nudity. I looked away from them, trying not to think about being stared at. Sir would feed me, tie me up as we slept, then retie me in the morning, and I would let him. It was after a few days of this that we got to another building much like the one he had 'processed' me in, where I had been tickled by him and that horrible woman.
He took me in. It was much the same as the last; so many people walking around in formal dress. As he spoke to the receptionist, I looked down at my body and couldn't help but see it in a new light. After days of walking and eating nothing but that strange jelly he fed me, I had lost a little weight. But it was more than that.
I looked at my body through the lens of the people who had seen it since this humiliating adventure had started. This was not the body of a lady, with refined taste and a sharp wit. This was the body of a weak and feeble woman who could be terrorised by tickling at any time. This was a naked prisoner who had been spanked for acting up. This was breasts and pussy and ass on display for anyone to see and masturbate to later.
I felt very small and silly in that complicated office, where very important people were going from one important problem to another. I was a naked girl surrounded by men and women who were getting things done. This is how so many people were seeing me. I felt myself blushing more intently than I ever had.
Sir then led me down that corridor, not dissimilar to the one that had led me to the tickle chamber. I felt very wary. But then he walked me straight up to the door that said 'STABLE' and, to my great shock, untied me. I stretched out, enjoying the relative freedom.
"Go through this door, Megan. I'll come back to you tomorrow." He walked back down the corridor. I felt very odd - this was technically the most free I'd been in what felt like a lifetime. But I knew I was surrounded by people keeping an eye on me, and I very much didn't want to go through the tickle torture door. So I opened the 'STABLE' door.
I was shocked to see that it was, indeed, a stable. It was a wooden structure with stalls along the sides and straw on the ground. The roof was a thin, slightly translucent material that let in sunlight. More shockingly, there were naked women in here.
"Hello!"
There were three of them. The woman who spoke waved to me. She was of average height, and she had shockingly white hair that was cropped to a short bob. She had a sharp, gorgeous face. Her breasts were large and her hips were wide, and she had a patch of white pubic hair. She didn't seem much older than I am.
Standing next to her was a much shorter woman, around my height. She had extremely curly brown hair that fell down to her shoulders in a triangle. She had a pretty aquiline nose and a heart-shaped face, and she wore a pair of round glasses. She was very thin, with small breasts that she was covering up by crossing her arms over her chest. She had a very thick, curly patch of pubic hair.
And finally, there was a taller woman, though not much taller than the rest of us. Her hair was black with streaks of red, cut in a very short pixie cut. She had more fat on her body, but a closer inspection revealed she was also a little muscular. She had clearly shaved her pubic hair recently, and you could see it growing back. Probably because she couldn't get to it tied up. For some reason, she had her hands behind her back.
