As the rays of the mid-day sun beat down upon the crowded golden sands of the South American holiday resort, a small group of three female British tourists were taking advantage of the conditions, after splashing about for sometime at the waters edge, they were now sitting together, under the shade of a large parasol, drinking, and relaxing at a beach-side bar.
Tomorrow they would be catching their flight home to the UK, two of their party, Amelia; an 18 year old brunette with hazel eyes and Sandra, an 18 year old blue-eyed blonde were lost in thought, reliving their holiday experiences of the past few days, but Dark-haired 19 year-old Alison, the third member of the group, was thinking only about Michael; the 6ft 2″ Blonde-haired, Blue-eyed hunk, she’d so reluctantly left behind; she could still feel the embrace of his strong arms, could still feel his tongue searching for hers, the deep and passionate kiss that held the promise of so much more! They had only been together as a couple for a few days, and a series of unfortunate events had conspired to prevent them from being alone together, as a result, they were still to consummate their union. Alison was understandably, and eagerly looking forward to the flight home, she was so excited at the thought of being with Michael once again.
As the three friends continued to day-dream, each one lost in their own thoughts, the fourth member of their party, who had not accompanied them on the grounds that she’d had a slight headache and was going back to bed to sleep it off, was in fact, at this particular moment, performing tongue aerobics with a stud of her own; she had gone back to bed, but she was not alone, and she was certainly not sleeping!
21 year-old Lynda Brown, a slim and extremely attractive Brunette and ruggedly handsome Paul Rutledge, had met as Paul still naively believed, by chance, at a local bar during the second night of the girl’s holiday. Paul was in the habit of frequenting this particular bar, which was well known to be the local haunt of most of the staff from the office of the British Consul.
Through discreet and seemingly innocent enquiries, Lynda had soon ascertained that Paul was the agent charged with representing the rights of British nationals should they fall foul of the local laws and customs; as this man was essential to her plans, she turned on the charm and the sex offensive and set to work.
It soon became obvious to Lynda however, that Paul Rutledge was already a man of extremely dubious character, unscrupulous and self-serving, she was surprised that such a man had achieved such a position of trust within the diplomatic office, this however suited her plans admirably, she knew that providing she keep him ‘sweet’, Paul would not be averse to helping her bring about certain situations and scenarios that she deemed vital and necessary in achieving her goals and plans.
It was now very nearly 3 weeks since the party and still, the burning hatred that Lynda felt towards the bitch that had ruined her life had not dissipated, if anything it had been building and growing stronger day upon day to reach its current state of pure loathing, a loathing that was now becoming very hard to conceal.
The party, where she was going to meet Michael for the first time in the flesh; after months of chatting and flirting with each other, ‘on-line’ she was finally going to meet him at last! Michael, the man of her dreams, the man whose picture adorned all four walls of her bedroom; that she was in love with him; she had not the slightest doubt. She recalled again with rising bitterness, how Alison, her co-worker and subordinate, had listened intently while she’d excitedly re-laid to her all the details of her on-line romance; the bitch had even offered to help smooth the way by chatting to Michael herself, she’d promised to do everything she could to help their romance blossom, and on the strength of that promise, Lynda had rather rashly given Alison all of Michael’s on-line chat details.
Then came the day of the party, where they were to meet for the first time, the party where she witnessed the treachery of her so-called friend, where she saw Michael, the man of her obsessive dreams, locked in an amorous embrace with Alison, her friend! Utterly devastated and distraught, her eyes blinded by tears, she’d slipped quietly away from the party, and driven home.
Shock and deeply distressed as she was, she eventually managed to pull herself together. She began to feed off her feelings of cold hatred and a burning need to be avenged. With a huge effort of will, just one day later, through an exhibition of enormous self control, she even managed to congratulate the happy couple on having found each other. She then set to work reassuring a guilty and remorseful Alison, that there really were no hard feelings, “it had after all, only been an internet romance, I’ve moved on now” she assured her unsuspecting former friend.
But Lynda had not moved on; she was determined that Alison should suffer the fate of the damned, she’d hit upon the idea that a previously arranged holiday to South America, with Alison and two other friends, now less than two weeks away, would provide an ideal environment in which to enact her revenge.
Paul Rutledge was in heaven, he looked down at the bobbing head of the gorgeous 21 year-old brunette, as her luscious lips slid back sensuously along the shaft of his rigid cock, he could feel his approaching orgasm starting deep in his balls, he knew that the girl would not pull away, even when she felt the torrent of sperm pulsing its way towards release, she would clamp her lips tightly over his spurting, erupting cock and gulp down his potent load as though it were the sweetest honey, slurping and sucking until she had taken every drop that he had to give. Ok, she was using him to get what she wanted, he knew that, but providing this luscious bitch with a few favours was definitely worth the return he was now enjoying; and so what if in bending the rules it meant the ruination of some 19 year-old slut bitch, he’d probably enjoy the intrigue of setting her up, the bitch meant nothing to him and just as Lynda had said, probably deserved everything she was undoubtedly going to get.
As Lynda encouraged another copious ejaculation into her sweet mouth, and felt the salty cum begin sliding down her throat; once again and for the hundredth time, her mind went back to the departure lounge at Birmingham International; Alison and Michael, kissing passionately to the backdrop of raucous laughter and crude comments from Amelia and Sandra “get a room why don’t you”! Well tomorrow she was going to be avenged, and the bitch wouldn’t even see it coming.
As the four girl’s were passing through customs, Lynda was trying desperately to remain calm, any moment now and all the planning, the intrigue, the countless hours spent gathering information, would start to pay dividends. She watched as Alison proceeded in front of her to the customs desk and heard her state quite innocently that she had nothing to declare. The customs official decided to search her baggage anyway, as Lynda knew that he would, having been tipped off in advance by one of Paul’s unsavoury associates. it had been relatively easy to obtain the cocaine and it had been just as easy for Lynda to wait for an opportunity to conceal it in Alison’s suite-case. As the poor unfortunate Alison was taken away by the police, Lynda generously volunteered to stay behind and do all she could to help their friend, assuring the other two girls that it must be a simple misunderstanding and they’d soon establish her innocence.
It was around 10.30 in the morning when Paul Rutledge was informed that his services were required, he made his way to the local police station to represent and interview a Miss Alison Williams a 19 year old British National accused of drug-smuggling.
The interview with the unfortunate girl took place in a dingy office that was really little more than a cell, even down to the concrete floor and the bars across the windows. Paul listened dutifully and patiently to the frightened and confused girl, as she tearfully pleaded her innocence; waiting for her to calm down and eventually ask him the inevitable question, “what should I do and what will happen to me now”?
Adopting his most sympathetic voice he replied “I am sorry to tell you Miss Williams that you are in a great deal of trouble; Her Majesty’s Government has very little influence in this Country, in fact relations between our two countries could be best described as positively hostile. I am therefore limited to giving advice only I’m afraid. As you may know, drug smuggling in this part of the world is viewed very seriously indeed; as the drugs were found in your suite-case and as the opening of your case was filmed and recorded by closed circuit cameras, I’m sorry to inform you that as far as the authorities are concerned the case against you is already proven. As far as what will happen next is concerned, you will shortly be taken before the court to enter your plea, you must that you are either Guilty or Not-guilty of the charges against you. A not guilty plea is something that I would strongly advise against, if the judge rules that you are guilty as charged, you could face a substantial prison sentence, which in this extremely back-woods country is to be avoided at all costs; female prisoners here are subjected to unspeakable inhumanities such as regular beating and gang-rapes; there is as well the usual sanction here of severe corporal punishment, which is virtually automatic in a case such as yours”.
As Paul continued to spout his words of wisdom, he observed with satisfaction that the dark-haired beauty in front of him had turned extremely pale; the truthful prognosis of beatings, corporal-punishment and rape had frightened the girl almost out of her wits, he allowed himself a slight smile, as he continued, “A plea of Guilty is your best option, if you show the right level of contrition the court may go easy on you, and they may appreciate the fact that you are not going to waste the courts time with a not-guilty plea; as a result you will probably be deported immediately and banned from entering the country ever again, much the best option I’m sure you will agree; there are of course no guarantees in cases such as these, but my experience would lead me towards advising you to plead Guilty”. He paused here to allow the poor distressed girl a few moments to absorb his words, and then continued “the court hearing is due very shortly Miss Williams, having listened to the options, how do you wish to plead”?
As Paul waited for her to answer, he could feel his heart hammering against his chest, would she take the bait, or would she realise somehow that she was being set-up for a very big fall; if she followed his advice, which was the truth turned upon its head, then the local travesty of a so-called court of law would, he knew, view her admission of guilt as a demonstration of her contempt for the laws and customs of their country, and the poor frightened 19 year old would soon be in big, big trouble.
As Paul looked upwards to the public gallery of the court, he caught site of Lynda, and they exchanged a series of significant and knowing looks; Lynda of course had been kept informed as the proceedings had progressed; both parties knew that the moment of truth was approaching. Between Lynda’s legs her knickers were damp with sexual arousal; it was all she could do to prevent herself rubbing at the nerve centre of her swollen, wet pussy. Paul was also feeling a little self conscious, he hoped that the act of tucking his semi-hard cock between his legs would be sufficient to hide the fact that he too was in a state of sexual arousal. As soon as the terrified dark-haired, 19 year old girl, had been led in to the dock, there followed a short pause before the charges against her were read out, she was then asked in broken English by the clerk, “How do you plead” Both Paul’s and Lynda’s eyes were riveted upon each other, both were nearly overcome with feelings of lust-full evil, as they heard the one word reply that signalled poor Alison’s doom. “Guilty”.
The three presiding male judges looked dumfounded at the girl before them in the dock; an excited but carefully subdued whispering had broken out from the floor of the court, as well as incredulous grunts and gasps of amazement from the public gallery. Clearly this court was not used to hearing admissions of guilt!
Recovering themselves, the three male judges began to confer in their local language. After some moments, the senior judge present addressed the court, he spoke surprising good English, which left a devastated Alison in no doubt’s as to her fate! “You have pleaded Guilty to that most heinous of crime’s, drug-smuggling; furthermore, you have done nothing to conceal from us your obvious contempt for the laws and customs of our country; for these reasons we have decided to make an example of you; it is hoped that others of your kind will think twice before being foolish enough to disobey our laws; You are therefore sentenced to serve a period of imprisonment, without the possibility of early release or parole, this period to be not less than 10 years in duration!”
Lynda felt that she was close to flooding her knickers, she was near delirious with lustful excitement, but the judge, much to everyone’s surprise, continued, “Furthermore, it is the sentence of the court that you be subjected to 100 Strokes of the Reformatory Cane; the punishment is to be carried out in full public view, during the next 48 hours”.
The exclamation of “Court Adjourned” could just be heard above the screams of panic and distress emanating from the distraught prisoner, as she was literally dragged from the court room.
Just 24 hours later, with Paul’s help and influence, not to mention a substantial bribe; Lynda was thrilled to attend a specially arranged private interview with her former friend.
Shortly before the interview was due to take place, and at the cost of another small bribe, Lynda had arranged to have Alison sedated. She didn’t want the girl out cold, but she didn’t want to be constantly interrupted by the snivelling little bitch pleading her innocence and begging for mercy either. This was Lynda’s moment; she’d been waiting for this. Now, Lynda would gleefully inform Alison of the game she’d been playing, the planning and scheming, the specially weaved web, of lies and deceptions, designed at each stage to destroy her future and consign her to a living, nightmarish hell.
Paul had been happy enough to provide Lynda with the details of how Alison’s life would probably pan-out from this point, and Lynda felt it only fair that before she flew back to the UK at the end of the week, she should enlighten her former friend as to what she could expect during the next 10 years of her imprisonment!
“Of course 10 years is a very long time” she told Alison, who had no option but to sit and listen, as she was cuffed and secured to her seat in one of the prisons many interview rooms, that she’d been drugged was obvious, but she was clearly capable of understanding what Lynda had say, as she smilingly continued “Of course you will be expected to be ‘productive’ while you are a guest; here in the prison, as I understand it this establishment provides a very profitable ‘side-line’ service to the mostly undesirable but horny gentlemen of this community and its surrounding districts. Just imagine it my dear…..for a pretty, young, slim and attractive girl such as yourself, they’ll be queuing up, literally falling over themselves in their eagerness to get their cocks into you; the unlucky ones will certainly return again, night after night until they too get to fuck you. I am reliably informed that a young girl like you can easily expect to be fucked by the throbbing, pulsing and spurting cocks of 8 to 10 punters each and every day.
Of course there will be times dear Alison when you won’t be quite so productive, when you’re pregnant for example, as obviously you can’t take all those cocks depositing their potent loads of sperm inside you, without getting caught now and again, but as soon as you give birth and provide this fine establishment with yet another extremely lucrative source of income from the ‘no questions asked’ sale of the your resulting off-spring, you will soon after find that you’ll be considered suitable for breeding purposes once again.
It will of course be in your best interests to go along with whatever you are ordered to do here, as I should warn you, that I’ve heard many distressing tales of inmates being savagely beaten should they dare to defy any of the prison staff, their rules or regulations.
Take for instance the girl who refused to take a caning from a horny punter while she was dressed as a school girl, the prison staff were summoned by the irate customer, resulting in the girl being forcibly tied down and secured over a desk; so that the still furious punter could then cane the poor unfortunate girl to within an inch of her life; apparently the blood ran like a river down the poor bitches legs! But of course I’d forgotten, you already have a date with the cane don’t you, in a little more than 12 hours you’ll be enduring you’re own caning, well there’s nothing like first-hand experience I always say.
Personally I enjoy nothing more than the spectacle of a good hard beating, but sadly these days they often consist of simple token canings, 12 or 18 strokes; often over before they’ve begun, the girl being thrashed has just begun to scream out her agony when suddenly it’s all over, leaving everyone disappointed and wondering what the fuss was all about.
Not so thankfully in your case though my dear, 100 strokes, now that’s what I call a beating one can really get one’s teeth into! You’ll probably spend the best part of a week in the local hospital afterwards, but never mind, try enjoy the rest, I’m pretty sure your going to need a break before you arrive back at the prison, your new home for the next 10 years!
Anyway Alison, I have to go now, I hope I’ve managed to convey a clear image of what your future holds, are those tears running down your cheeks? Well you can stop the weeping now; it cuts no ice with me or anyone else here! We’ll see you in the square then darling, it will probably be very crowded as a public caning is a bit of a rarity these days, but we’ll be seated somewhere behind you, as we wont want to miss a single stroke. I do hope that sweet, perfectly rounded bottom of yours can absorb the 100 strokes with sustaining any permanent damage! Looking forward to hearing you scream darling, until tomorrow then.
While waiting for a taxi to take her back to her hotel, Lynda found herself reflecting upon the fact that revenge was indeed, sweet!