(Unknow writer)

This is the story of my friend Mette who travelled to New York last year.

She is 23, blond and weights 52 kg, that means she's a cute, slender girl who is open to everyone.

She wrote it down and send it to me :

When I arrived at custody after baggage claim, the tall black officer of immigration agency stared at me already when I was only cueing. He seemed to know my face and he started to do same calls while he was checking the passports of the peoples in front of me inattentively.

When it was my turn, he took my passport and in the same time I felt two strong man taking my hands from behind and securing them by handcuffs.

They turned me around and told me to follow them. I was scared about walking handcuffed through the airport building, how humiliating to be seen in public like that. But they only lead me to an office around the corner where I expected some explanation. But there was none, nobody talked to me, nobody answered my questions. and things became worse.

They started to shackle me by a legiron, which was connected to a waistchain, I was wearing in seconds. Now my hand were uncuffed just to be resecured in the two cuffs attached to the waist chain on my right and left, which allowed at least a minimal movement.

Now I couldn't lift my arms anymore at all. that meant, no chance to remove my blonde strand, which was permanently falling into my face. I must have looked like a helpless messed up chicken.

Now it was really humiliation to be lead through endless public corridors of the airport, where I was a show for the queueing people at the check in counters. I was guarded by the same two policemen, so nobody could ignore me. My chains were clinking so loud, that all the rest of the noise in the building became inaudible.

Imagine a pretty blonde wearing a dark indigo tight jeans with a brown leatherbelt and a white short top, which lets you see her tiny tits and her beautiful small, but round butt, in addition she was wearing shiny black leather shoes - combined with the shackles mentioned above.

They led me to the outside into a grey van with barred windows, still not knowing what was going on. Inside the van there were four more very young girls waiting for her way to - so far I realised - to prison. The girls sat on two benches alongside the walls and their necks were chained to the ceiling, so I was after the sat me down roughly.

As the van started to move, we started talking hesitatingly, two of the girls told that they are 14 and 15 year old and they got a prison term of 15 years for possession of hashish. First I couldn't believe that judgement, but soon I remembered the "three strikes and you are out"-policy and understood what was going to happen to these two kids and stopped talking to them cause I felt too sorry for them. The other two girls were both 16 and had 6 months working camp ahead. That was the ultimate punishment for uncontrollable behaviour at school. They were still wearing school uniform including black ballerinas and stockings, grey short skirts, white blouses and dark-blue vests. Later I realised, that I had no idea at this time what it meant to all of us.

Then I was investigated by the girls, but I had no idea, what reason for I was in the van. I expected to be transported to a police station where the whole mistake would find an end and was still in a good mood - looking back I wonder how I managed that regarding the serious situation.

We were not driving to any police station, but directly into jail, which made me very nervous, although it was a Youth-prison for girls - which is not an improvement, as I experienced in the following.

The van stopped, they unchained our necks but chained them to each other and formed a kind of chain gang to walk into the grey building with concrete walls and floors.

Then we were made to stand in a line in front or a counter and our handcuffs were released to put our arms out of our tops and bras. Immediately they were fastened again and the neck-chain of only one girl at a time was shortly removed to take off the top and bra completely.

I have to admit, that I was sexually stimulated at this time by the clicking of the cuffs and the clinking chains of five totally helpless young chicks getting stripped. But that couldn't drive away my growing fears of what was happening to me, especially because there was still nobody to pose any questions to because we were not allowed to talk which was prevented by hard hits with the truncheon. I was handled like an already convicted inmate.

Now our feed were shortly unshackled to take off shoes, bottoms and panties and rebound immediately. Now standing naked in cold concrete with legirons and handcuffs chained by neck to the other girls stimulated me even more and I hoped that none of the surrounding guards would discover my wet pussy.

Now our chain gang was nude and shackled led to the next room, which was totally made of concrete ,too. I was right, when I felt at this time that there wouldn't be a different surrounding for quite a long time, which made me angry and feary at the same time, but I was afraid of the truncheon, so I tried to remain silent with all my might.

They cut out hair to a length which made the neck visible and excluded the possibility of getting caught in the neck-chain. I was not treated because my blond curly hair was short enough, but the two girls in school-uniforms lost their beautiful butt-long dark-brown pigtail and the two others their ash-blond curls.

Our whole body was now photographed from front, back and both sides. We were nude and fully chained, even the neck chain between us was not removed although we were photographed separately. In addition, they made one faceshot of each girl, but as the movement of our hands was limited to a minimum I couldn't remove my hair from my face and the disturbing strands were cut. The guard was not caring about scratching my forehead so it started to blood and I couldn't do anything against dropping the blood slowly down my face and over my right breast. that's the way I must have looked like on the photos they made for registration, they said.

Not we were led to one corner of the room were there was a machine looking like a grill with five spits in it. Two guards took a spit each, which had glowing numbers at its top and pressed it on the 14 and 15-year-old girls' arms. they were screaming like hell and couldn't stop whimpering for a never-ending moments, but there was no way out because they were strongly held by two guards each. My heart started beating like hell, but I was a the other end of the chain gang so I expected the two girls between me and the others to be brandmarked before. But my thoughts were interrupted when the already brandmarked girls cried out loudly what was now written on her arm forever. It was their prison-registration number and their release date which was 12.31.2024 as I understood their crying (I was incarcerated 10.05.2009). that time, my arm started aching like hell, but I was curious enough to read immediately what was burned on my arm: "2009-031-life".

I stumbled and nearly fell unconscious but the guard hit me twice and yelled: "hey, 031, don't behave as if there happened something unexpected to you". Now I understood why nobody explained my situation to me. They expected me to know the history of my case, but I even didn't know that I was a case. It must have been a mix-up, the suspected me to be someone else ! I tried to talk about that fact but I was immediately stopped by a guard who whipped my naked butt.

Regarding my life-term, I must have committed a third degree-murder, but it was impossible for me to find out more for a long time, as there was no legal discussion about one's case allowed between inmates and guards and I shouldn't be able to talk to someone else for the next period of time. This means at this time i was expecting a whole life in prison without any idea what crime the person they meant me to be had committed. I would spend my whole life in prison for a crime I had not committed, that was an awful thought which became ever worse, when I realised that there was nothing to do about it at this time. I was their property now, I had now will and had to do what they wanted me to do. I even lost my name, was only called "bitch 031".

While I thought about these things, we were led nude and shackled over the prison-yard into a room with a counter again. Now they handed out our prison uniforms.

One young guard came over with some tissues and asked, if he should clean my face and my breast. This was the last gentle word I should hear for the following period of time. He started cleaning my face and then rubbing my breast, because the blood had already dried. Then I realised that this was not an act of courtesy but of sexual abuse, because he touched my pussy cursory to see if it was wet when he had finished - and it was wet although I didn't want it to be. I couldn't complain because I was not allowed to talk, so I kicked the guard with my feed but due to the shackles stumbled and fell. My neighbour in the chaingang anticipated that and tried hard and managed to keep standing. The result was an enormous shock through my neckchain giving me the feeling of my head being pulled off. The guard went away without a word but wrote something on a piece of paper.

Before the dressing started, we were red the prison regulations which told, that there were none but the rule to follow each and every direction of a guard. They told, it was not necessary to know more rules so far, because we would get to know them when they are applied. As we have no own will from now on, and we are not allowed to talk at any time but if questioned by a guard there couldn't occur any further questions or complaining. As we didn't know what was the punishment for any disobedience, we didn't dare to commit a single one.

Now we were handed out our prison uniforms, well, as we were still chained they were thrown on the floor in front of us. everyone got the size one of the guards assumed to fit. Now a difficult dressing procedure started with one girl after the other. A was the last so I knew what was happening. first, my handcuffs were released to put on an ugly sports-bra and a light blue denim shirt (long sleeve) which fitted very tight. As it was a shirt, not even my neck had to be unchained. My hands were secured again so I could not dress myself with the following items. We got no panty and to wear under the dark-indigo denim overalls. my shackles were released and to guards behind me cared that I didn't kick again. I was resecured by the legirons immediately after I had put my feed into the legs of the overalls. They put on my overalls and didn't miss to touch my butt and pussy an often as possible, because they had to pull the straps and the dungaree-front through the waist chain to close it over my shoulder. They tied the shoelaces of the small white canvas-shoes we had to wear without socks. I realised that the legs of our overalls were 7/8-length, a kind of Capri-pants to facilitate the handling of our legirons and enable their visual check. It must have been an nice view for the guards to see our nude ankles secured in legirons and the shiny white canvas shoes.

Although the overalls were not loose-fit at all, the straps were adjusted to a proper fit as the guard called it. They adjusted them to a length which made the crotch of our overalls cut into our butts, the way that it was divided into two cheeks and our pussy would permanently rub against the denim. Whenever I would be wet, everyone could see it - and at this time, I was wet. the length of the straps was fixed by studs to ensure that no further lengthening by the inmates was possible. The 14-year-old cute blond girl complained, got two strikes and the explanation, that this fitting ensures that every content of the two pockets on out butts was visible. I'm sure that this was to ensure that out butt was visible in it's roundest shape and I have to admit that it must be a stimulating view for the guards to see hundreds of female butts in denim in their fullest beauty. I discovered a hole in the two buttons at the top of my dungaree-front and the two upper buttons of the three at each side of the overalls with metall plated buttonholes. I realised that I could be imprisoned in my own overall by padlocks, which meant I could not decide when to clean myself, when to go to toilet and when to dress off for night-time. and that was exactly the way it happened. In addition to the chains and shackles, we were locked in our overalls and due to the nearly neck-height of the dungaree-back it was impossible to peel off the straps over the shoulder. Now it felt like a kind of straight jacket, although it didn't limit our movements further, which was impossible I thought at this time regarding our chains and shackles. Incarcerated in your own clothes is the smallest cell you can imagine.

Before we were led away over the prison yard again, every inmate got two identity tags, which were riveted to the dungaree-front and -back showing our face, our identification-number, the release date and a barcode. Our name was not mentioned there.

We were on our way to the cell blocks, our new home for the next period of time. I imagined this could be me home for the rest of my life which meant a long time to go - I was only 23, if I wouldn't find a way to clear that mistake soon. It was a strange feeling to walk behind four young pretty girls in a chaingang over a prison yard locked in a tight fitting denim overall, with shackled feed and wrists cuffed to a waist-chain. Although the legirons were connected to the waistchain to prevent from dragging over the concrete, the clinking of our chains was ear-splitting, especially when we entered the cell-block, where it was nearly silent, only some rare clinking of chains were audible. I found out later that it was silent because the cellblock was nearly empty at daytime, the only girls who were allowed to stay here are those who are ill or got an extra-punishment, which I should experience in the different available manners later.

We stood in the hallway of a bare concrete cellblock with three storeys of long rows of cell on both sides. They had no separation by walls but bars between each other and the hallway. That meant, it looked like a wood of bars and steel, without any chance of privacy, we would be held like animals in long rows of cages. Each cell was a small dormitory with 8 positions in 4 bunk-beds each. They were arranged right-angled to the hallway at the back of the cell, one at the left bars, one at the right and to placed next to each other in the middle. The guard would see the profile of the girls sitting on her beds. In the front of the cell, directly behind the bars of the hallway there was a toilette on the left and a wash-basin on the right without any paravente in full visibility of the guards outside the bars. Our chaingang was now divided, the two girls with the short prisonterm were led away. I was the first to be unlocked from the others. I expected my collar to be taken off now, but the led me into an empty cell and connected my neck-chain to an longer one connected to the bars over my upper bed. I realised, that my collar and neck-chain wouldn't be released for the rest of my life, I would feel like a dog kept on a lead even when in my cell and at night. The guard explained, that the can shorten this chain from the outside mechanically to fix me to my bed during riots and night-time. That meant, they decide if I was allowed to stand, sit or lie whenever they wanted. When I was connected to the wall, my legirons, handcuffs and waistchain were released, but put on a hook on the outside of the bars. Inside the cell my only freedom was to move my arms and legs, but I would never again leave this cell without being restrained the way described above and chained by neck-chain to something or someone, which was an unbearable thought.

The two remaining girls were handled the same and were my cellmates from now on. Luckily enough the chains were long enough to walk to every point in the cell, put the permanent stress on your neck, the feeling of cold steel and the clinking with every step you make, strangeness the feeling of being incarcerated tremendously, there is no single moment without that thought in your mind. The bars were closed and we were told to press the button next to the toilette if necessary, then a guard would come to open our overalls through the bars and to monitor our relieve. "Recreate for our first working day tomorrow" was the last think we heard. Talking was not allowed at any time, so we looked at each other, walked some steps but were shocked about the noise and the weight of our chain.

In the evening, there approached a clinking like a whole troop was marching, the door of the hallway opened and the rest of the girls came home from work and an never-ending chaingang marched through the hallway to the end of the cell-block, were the showers were located.

Later I learned, that this procedure takes place every third day. If there is no showering scheduled, we are directly put into our cells. Showering is like a production line. We enter the room as a chain-gang fully clothed and restrained like described above, are undressed by guards in the same way as mentioned, because our restrains and neck-chains are not released during the whole process. We then have to walk through a corridor were cold water mixed with soap comes down. At the end of the corridor, the procession turns around and passes the lane of guards who are drying us with dirty old towels. Then we are redressed with the same clothes we have word the days before. Due to the fact that dressing and undressing takes very long, we have to stand eternities under the cold shower and the guards drying us don't loose time to do they jobs carefully. We can't offend against being touched at every region of the body because of our handcuffs. Imagine that sexual stimulation of the guards by drying hundreds of nude wet female bodies with heavy steel chains directly on their nude skin, it is humiliating to be treated like meat being chained together.

Then we are put into our cells and dinner is served. It is a warm meal, mostly a kind of hot-pot, which is served on a tray through the bars and we have to eat sitting on our beds, the tray on our knees. at 9 p.m. the lights are switched of, a siren yells and our connection to the wall is shortened the way that we have to lie in bed until 5.30 a.m. the next morning.

The siren yells and out neck-chains are prolonged to enable us to do our personal hygiene and get the breakfast tray through the bars.

Then the chaingangs for the different jobs are put together and led out of the cellblock to there workingplaces in our outside the prison area.

I got the following job: there are a lot of line assembly jobs inside the prison. We are assembling easy mechanical and electronical products such as umbrellas or toys for international companies 10 ours/six days per week without wages. The chain gang is led over the prison yard and delivered to the respective workingplace, where the inmate is chained to the wall or the machine for the whole day. If necessary, there are small mobile chemistry toilets brought by the guard. Your overalls are unlocked for maximum 3 minutes and the guard looks at you the whole time until your overalls are locked again and you return to work. If you have a job where both hands are necessary, you are in the lucky situation, that both hands are freed from the handcuffs during work. Because every part of our bodies stays as tightly restrained as possible during work. I am working at a press which is to handle with my right food and minimal movements of the right hand only. That means, except the toilet-breaks and lunch which is served on trays directly at the respective working place, my right foot in addition to the normal legirons is chained very tightly to the pedal, my left hand is secured to my waist-chain as usual and my right hand is connected to the machine instead to my waist-chain. The only movement I can do during daytime is the one necessary for work. It causes unbelievable pain of all parts of the body to do this movement in periods of 10 seconds 10 hours a day. Doing it more slowly or breaking causes not only spanking by the guard but also hard punishment described later. Imagine that feeling of being treated like a thing, like a slave or human machine for the rest of my young life without any chance of change.

There was no chance of getting a different job by your own will and I'm not sure, if the jobs I was told by the other inmates are better. They are working under outdoors in all weather conditions in chaingangs of 5 at construction sites, on the fields or at public places. For all the jobs there are no machines available, so working on the fields means digging by shovel and at construction sites or public places means carrying heavy stuff and collecting disgusting waste by bare hands. The way they suffer is obvious when they come home and are dirty from head to tow with mud, dust or oil and fat. If there is showering scheduled, they are lucky, although they have to wear their dirty clothes again, if not, the only way is to clean oneself at the cell as good as possible.

Our clothes stay as dirty as they are until Saturday, when washing is scheduled. In the morning after breakfast we are led into the so-called washing-saloon in 5 person chaingangs. There we are undressed the usual way and led into the prison yard for workout. Imagine 450 nude and fully shackled girls in there early teenage chained together five by five doing jogging, and gymnastics on bare concrete at every weather. We are driven like cattle by the shouting and whips of the guards. They expect performances and movements which are absolutely impossible due to our full restrainment. This regularly leads to extended whipping and punishment. If we survived the workout, its duration is subject to the capriciousness of the guards, we are allowed to move with our chaingang freely through the prisonyard and talk to each other for exactly one hour.

This is the time were the lucky of us are led away to be visited, maximum one hour per month. in this case, I'm dressed and brought to a small concrete room without windows with two chairs facing each other fixed to the ground. My neck-chain is connected to the back of the chair tightly, my hands are secured to the arm of the chair in addition to the handcuffs at the waist chain and my feed are bound to the floor despite the legirons. This keeps me in an totally secured sitting position and the visitor in led in the room. He must sit on his chair during the whole visit without any restrainment, but when he moves to stand up and walk towards me, the visit is immediately ended by the monitoring guard, who is watching through the bars ceiling the whole time. Imagine to sit next to a loved one so near and without a wall between each other, but without a single chance to touch or to move towards him - that's real torture, even if you are used to strongest limitations of your movements during your everyday life.

After visitation you return to your chain gang in the "washing-saloon" while they are dressed with fresh clothes and are led to your cell for dinner and another week condemned to silence, physical restrains, humiliation and to live from hand to mouth locked in our dirty and smelly clothes as a result of our slavework. No doubt, it is a good feeling to wear fresh clothes, especially when you think of the poor possibilities to clean them throughout the week, but there is one big disadvantage: the shrinking of our overalls leads to an increased tension on the straps, our butts and pussies. That means the feeling of being incarcerated in our overalls is strongened once a week, which does not mean, that the period of one week is long enough to get the heavy denim overalls comfortable enough to forget that.

To make things worse, there are several kinds of punishment for talking, refusing to work or bad behaviour in general. I know that it sounds unbelievable, but there is a way to take away even our last freedom, which is to be able to move hands and feed inside the cells without limitation. As it is not allowed to keep the inmates in handcuffs and shackles inside their cells by law, they created a short cable loop, which fixes your hand to your waist so tightly that every use of your hand can be excluded. It is locked to the padlock securing the upper of the three buttons closing overalls at both sides. This loop can be applied to one or both hands as long as you are in your cell. That means, you have no chance of doing your personal hygiene and you need another inmate to put your tray on one of the lower beds that you can eat without hands while kneeling in front of it. Feeding is not allowed in these cases, so the other inmates have to watch the punished girl feeling sorry without any chance to help.

Even outside the cell, the attached loops are only opened if you need the respective hand for work. unnecessary to mention, that no handcuff is supplied to hands fixed in that way if you leave your cell. It is obvious that it is a feeling as if you were disabled and had no - mostly - left hand at all. But I even saw girls leaving their cells with so to speak both hands amputated for long periods of time. they had to live without hands for weeks. In addition, it is dangerous to have no hands. Already inside the cell it's difficult to reach the upper bed, sometimes you hear loud screaming through the cellblock and every girl knows that someone without hands fell out of her upper bed, what causes serious injuries, and another punishment because of the noise. But if you are in the bad position tom have to wear these loops even outside your cell, with the normal shackling in addition, it is nearly impossible to walk in the speed, the guards drive the chain gangs, which means further punishment if you fall on the floor. This is ever more dangerous, if as additional punishment, the legiron is shortened. If you experienced that, you feel hands cuffed to a waistchain as real freedom because of the some links long chain to the handcuffs and the slack of your waistchain.

An even harder punishment was to be send in solitary confinement, which was nothing but a concrete cube without any window. The floor was made out of bars as there was no toilet. I experienced all grades of solitary confinement. I was put there nude, unshackled but chained to the wall for one week, which was terrible because the bars on the floor were aching unbearable as there was no bed to sleep in. But there were worse weeks to come. the next time I was in solitary confinement, I was nude and fully shackled (which is against the law), which made it already difficult to use my hands to eat from the tray, but I managed by putting the tray on my legs while I was sitting. at this time, I couldn't believe that there was something worse then to relieve oneself through bars on the floor. But things got worse when I was put into solitary confinement again for two weeks fully dressed without shackling but chained to the wall and my hands secured in the described loops. I had to lie on the bars to eat like a dog out of its bowl and I had no bell to ring for toilet. I had to relief myself into my overalls, my pee run down my legs, but the rest only fell down from time to time through the legs of my overalls. I felt disgusting when the guards came over, looked through a hatch in the celldoor and discussed the yellow and brown spots on the butt and the legs of my overalls. I and my clothes were showered by a waterhose down from the ceiling every 3 days which was hard enough to hurt me but not sufficient to wash the shit out of my overalls due to the fact that the are fitting very tight as mentioned above. The guards enjoyed chasing a cute blond disgusted by herself with the hard waterhose, I was their toy without any chance to escape. I had wet clothes nearly all the time during my solitary confinement. Here you are only a number, your only worth is to be sexually stimulating to the guards and to work for the government.

I don't know any other punishment because all the girls, who commit further disobedience are taken out of the cells without further explanation and up to now I haven't seen one of them again.

But I experienced some reprisals which are worth telling: the biggest problem is the unlocking of the overalls for toilet. In these cases you have the strongest feeling of being surrendered to the capriciousness of the guards. One of the most private act of normal people is a difficult process for us because it usually takes about 10 to 15 minutes until a guard arrives after several calls. Once I was totally ignored and had to relief myself into the overall bound to the chair during work as described above. The warm pee run into my overalls and down my legs and I had to sit in my own shit for more than 5 hours. It was Monday that meant I had to wear them for the rest of the week in that condition - and showering was scheduled two days later. Luckily enough the guard gave me some extra time when he unlocked my overalls for toilet in the evening back in my cell and I could clean myself and my overalls at least superficial. In addition to the fact, that I had to wear my overalls with yellow stripes down my legs and an big brown spot on my butt, both of my hands were fixed by the described loops for one week due to my dirty clothes and my left hand was not released even outside the cell, because it was not needed to fulfil my job. It was a disgusting situation to be a smelly, ugly animal outlawed by the other prisoners. I myself was chained in the chaingang behind a girl to whom happened the same, it was a terrible smell and view to see the brown denim of the overalls cut into her dirty butt, but the guards seemed to by stimulated by that, maybe because it was a sign for our total helplessness and dependence on them - especially when such a poor girl had to do the Sunday exercises on the prison yard nude. As we are 8 inmates in one cell, I am used to live with a nearly permanent stink in my surrounding and to eat without hands like a dog surrounded by my own smell. As the bedcoats are changed only once a month, we have to sleep in our own mess for weeks if it penetrates the denim. We can avoid that if such an accident happens day-time and we are able and allowed to clean ourselves in the cell before sleeping. That requires some extratime with opened overalls and the ability to use at least one hand. But in most cases, we are not given the chance to clean ourselves as I described it above before our hands are fixed as punishment for our dirty clothes. If this happens, the only chance to keep your bed clean (and to avoid further punishment) is to call a guard for opening your overalls and loops for toilet, which is a decree, but if you only simulate the need to go to toilet, it is strictly punished. in this case and if you have to relief yourself at night-time, there is no chance to keep your bed clean. A clearly visible fouling on our beds means even harder punishments than dirty clothes.

Another problem is the permanent sexual abuse, which does not meant that we were raped (single cases may be possible, but I never witnessed one), but is forced by the described normal prison regulations to expose ourselves in sexually stimulating ways to the guards. It is strengthened by the incident that from time to time bras and shirts get lost - as it is called officially - in the "washing - saloon". This means I had to wear the rough heavy denim of my dungaree-front directly on my bare breasts. This causes extended sexual reprisals by the guards and my breasts were plagued by the guards truncheon during work several times, but it is much worse, that your nipples start aching and loose their sensibility after some time. This sensibility does not return afterwards, as much as the sensibility of my pussy decreases rapidly due to the rough heavy denim rubbing against it al the time. I realised that in interaction with Cindy I'll tell about later.

Our sexually stimulation appearance deriving from our uniforms and shackles leads to actions as follows: when I'm bound to my workingspace as described, it occurs, that a guard pushes his truncheon under my butt between my legs and moves it the way that I can not avoid to feel stimulated. In fact it is very stimulating to be totally under control of someone, forced to sit in the position you are bound to and not allowed to stop working, which is strictly punished. I don't know why, but the stimulation is stronger, if I can't move my left hand due to applied loop. Maybe that derives from the increased feeling of humiliation which is even stronger when your overall is already wet and messy due to refused toilet. I have the suspect, that in some cases, the guard creates this situation on purpose, but despite the result of extra-punishment if I interrupt working I enjoy that kind of stimulation as much at the time happening as it disgusts me afterwards.

This is the only hetero sexual contact I have, and contact between the inmates is strictly forbidden. But luckily enough we are not restrained inside our cells and covered by total darkness if the lights are switched off. If you remember the cell layout, you realise that every bed has one neighbour. Those beds in the middle of the cell even without bars between each other. I have a upper bed next to the bars, but the bars are wide enough that me and the girl in the next cell can kiss and touch each other as far as it is possible through our overalls. Cindy - or bitch 745 - is 15, serves a life-term as I do and is a little bit over-weight, what makes her figure very round and sexy in our tight fitting overalls. we are able to kiss, to touch our breasts if we open our shirt under the dungaree-front and to touch our pussy through the fly of the overalls. If both hands of one of us are amputated, we help each other to clean oneself if necessary by some pieces of loo paper we smuggle into the bed from the toilet. We have to wait until the lights are switched of, because no help is allowed to extra-punished girls by other inmates. I love the feeling of getting wet by the touch, especially when I have to sleep with both hands secured. Then I sometimes imagine the feeling of getting my pussy licked by her, but it is impossible due to our short neck-chains who do not allow to go downstairs with your head. It would be possible to kiss each others breasts, but the dungaree-front is too large to reach the sensitive regions and the straps keep it to tight to be removed a little bit. Driven by the fear my sexual activities would be restricted to that for the rest of my live, I try to get nude time in solitary confinement in he hope of being loved - not raped by a guard. I'm not sure if I enjoyed it more fully shackled as I was in nude solitary confinement before or unsecured to be able to touch him. I feel ever more sorry for Cindy who is due to her young age very hungry for sexual experience, especially because she has never been touched by a guy. May be she loose her youth in this institute, will be ageing in one of the impersonal mass-dormitories of the prisons for grow-ups as a number only, without the much too fast fading beauty of her rosy lips, pale skin, dark hear and blue eyes ever detected or suspected by the free world. How many men on the other side of the walls are desperately looking for the youth and beauty incarcerated here without any attention and mostly condemned to be disappeared before the far away date of release. But so far we two girls love each other or sleep in the arms of each other despite the cold steel bars between us nearly every night, because this is the only consolation for two livers incarcerated in this hell without any chance to be released.

That is what she told about her daily prison life so far, I am still in contact with her and visited her several times. Of cause she tried to talk to a layer, but so far she was not allowed to because "her" case was totally clear and "she" confessed all charges. The case of mix-up an inmate is not planned by US-law, which means she has not found any reason for hope and maybe won't find any in the future. She starts to resign herself and submits herself to her fate of loosing her youth and leading a life in prison. I feel that she is loosing her breathtaking beauty faster from time to time I visit her, although she is still the girl of my and every guy's dreams she has ever been.