The Center (Houdini and Nurse_K)

H

Houdini

Supernova
Joined
Mar 18, 2009
The year was 2131. The Midwestern courthouse of over two-hundred years old had stood as a pillar of the legal system for generations. But the state of the republic was not as rosy as it once had been. After nearly a century of civil war, economic turmoil, and increased crime, the United States needed a complete overhaul to have a chance to succeed. Many of the institutions which had remained static for years were forced to change, not the least of which was the penal system.

The sound of the gavel echoed through the courtroom. The judge looked down from his bench, wearing a traditional black robe that had more of a twentieth-century feel to it than the mid-twenty second century styles seen out on the street and in the air. "I hereby sentence you to five years in state penitentiary, for the crime of grand larceny", his decree resounded. His stern stare seemed designed to intimidate the handcuffed girl before him. "Do you wish to request an alternative form of serving your sentence, or do you wish to be handed over to the department of corrections immediately?"

The prison system had been determined to be an excessive drain on the government's limited budget. Among the changes passed when the new constitution was written was an option to reduce one's sentence at the judge's discretion, by serving a much shorter sentence at an "Ultra-Correctional Disciplinary Center", commonly known as just a "Center". The shorter sentences saved much taxpayer money, but the prisoners would be forced to work, and strict punishments were meted out at the discretion of the wardens. Because this was a controversial bill, and many left-wing politicians regarded the methods used as torture, it was decided to give a sentenced individual the option to serve the term at the "Center." Therefore, no one could say that the person was forced to undergo this type of imprisonment. However, once the documents of agreement were signed, there was no going back.

Silence filled the courtroom as the judge looked down from his bench, awaiting her reply.
 
Elsa stood before the judge in a disgustingly orange jumpsuit, the number 33788 printed on the front of the shirt part and down the left leg. Her hands were cuffed tightly behind her back, a constant reminder that she was no longer free. Her face fell a little when she heard her sentence. Five years. It was nothing compared to what some people got, but to her it was the worst possible sentence she could get. She was young, only nineteen years old. Once she'd had dreams of college, but the economy was too bad and her parents didn't have any way to even think of paying for state school. So she worked.

But Elsa didn't make much money, barely enough to eat off of. So she decided to steal a sports car and sell the parts. She'd made away with the car to the shop where she was going to lift the parts, but when she got there the place was surrounded by cops. Apparently her dealer was a police informant. Her very first job as a lifter and she'd been busted. Had she been a repeat offender she would have gotten twenty or more years in the pen. She was lucky, even more so that she had the opportunity to go to the Center.

She cleared her throat and spoke, "Sir, I would like to request to be sent to The Center." she spoke as clearly and confidently as she could, though she idea of the Center scared the crap out of her. She'd heard horror stories, but six months there couldn't possibly be as bad as five years in a regular penitentiary. She closed her honey brown eyes while she waited for the judge to respond, hoping it'd be in her favor.
 
The courtroom was silent for a moment until the Judge cleared his throat loudly. He looked down at Elsa, imagining what a pity it would be for the pretty young convict standing sheepishly before him to end up in the Center. Yet the law was the law, and he must adhere to the sentencing guidelines. "Young lady, I'll consider your request. But I'd like to see you in my chambers. Guards, bring her into my chambers please", he called out. As they escorted the handcuffed young woman into the neatly appointed office, he motioned for the guards to assist her into the chair across from him desk.

"It is my decision as to whether I'll allow the reduction in the sentence by serving it at the Center. As a first-time offender, I don't see why I wouldn't allow it, should this be what you really want. However, I think you should know more about your options first. There is a reason the sentence is greatly reduced should you serve it at the Center. You may have heard about these places. But I must warn you that by agreeing to the alternative sentence, you give up your normal rights as an American. Corporal punishments and many types of humiliation are permitted there. You may be forced into hard labor. You really will be at the mercy of how each warden runs his Center. You may not be subjected to permanent physical harm, and you may not be forced to have sexual intercourse, but there are not many other rules. The purpose is not to break your spirit, but to humiliate you into fear of repeating your errors."

He cleared his throat and looked into her frightened eyes. "And one other thing. Once you sign yourself over, you can't change your mind. You're in until the sentence is over. Do you have any questions, or do you need another hour to think about it?"
 
She was escorted into the judge's chambers and pushed towards a chair. She sat in it, not leaning back as it would hurt her still cuffed hands. She wasn't exactly sure why she'd been called into the judge's chambers, the decision was hers. She would think that the judge would be glad that they would only have to pay for her to live for six months before she was thrust out into the world again. When the judge entered she looked at him intently, showing no fear, only timidness.

"I understand, sir." she said, her voice wavering only a little. She tried to hold her fear back, she didn't want it shown for even a quick second. The judge couldn't know how afraid she was or he might not send her to the Center, he might elect for her to spend her entire time in a regular cell. She kept her eyes on his, showing him her mock-confidence. "I am prepared to work off my time at the Center, sir."

She wasn't ready at all, really, but what could she do? She would rather six months of absolute hell than five years of prolonged agony. She was sure that she wouldn't commit a serious again, she had never even dreamed of getting caught the first time.
 
"Very well then", came the reply. "You seem quite confident. I hope that your confidence is genuine, because I am sure you will need it. The sentence is hereby commuted to three to six months at the Ultra-Correctional Disciplinary Center. The warden will determine if you must serve the entire six months or you will be released early. You will wait in a holding cell here at the courthouse until the Center sends a hovercraft to pick you up.

He dispatched one guard to remove Elsa to the holding cell and another one to contact the center and inform them of their new charge.

Brendan received a call several minutes later from the warden. As a corrections officer in the women's wing at the Center, it was his duty to take full responsibility for an inmate during her week-long introductory period, and assimilate her into the prison. Once this was complete and she was assigned to a work detail, he would check on her daily and make recommendations to the warden regarding her assignments and release. Due to this close oversight, he was usually only assigned four or five convicts at a time, and only one new inmate. He would also administer all disciplinary actions to his assigned inmates. He possessed a tall lanky frame with wispy dark hair, and usually sported a five-o-clock shadow.

He had just had another assigned convict discharged yesterday, and although he knew a new assignment would be coming, he had hoped for more of a break before getting it. Upon receiving the new assignment, he took off in his hovercraft and made the fifteen minute flight to the prison, landing on the roof and heading down to the judge's chambers to pick up the information on the new detainee.
 
Elsa waited in the holding cell for what seemed like a million years. She didn't know why she was so jittery, she was just going from one cell to another, there was no excitement in that. In fact, getting to the Center wasn't really a good thing. She sighed, once again hating herself for getting caught. She didn't so much regret doing the crime, it had been necessary for her to do it, it was the getting caught that had her down. She had been uncuffed while in the holding cell and she held her face in her hands. She touched her head gingerly, her hair oily and gross from not having been able to shower for a couple of days. Her hair was usually a dark brown color and fluffy, but now it was matty and gross. She hated it.

But she knew that she wouldn't be looking very nice for the next six months. She'd probably always be dirty, always be tired, sore, irritated. She was as prepared as she could be though, she had to be. When she heard someone approach the cell she looked up, surprised to see a man there. She had expected a female corrections officer, as she was female and going to the female part of the Center. She swallowed nervously, standing. This was the beginning.
 
As Brendan approached the holding cell, his disappointment in receiving a new inmate subsided a bit when he saw the girl sitting down inside. The inmate who had just been released had been a heavyset older woman in her sixties guilty of identity theft. The woman was stubborn and needed a lot of unpleasant correction. He could see that his new charge, even with her matted hair and disheveled appearance, was an attractive girl. He saw her soft face and honey-brown eyes look at him with a bit of bewilderment as she stood up.

"You must be Elsa. I'm Brendan, but you may call me 'sir' for now", he stated in introduction, sliding his card against the outside of the cell, causing the door to open. "You'll get to know me rather well over the next few months. I'll be your corrections officer at the Center." As he said this he took a hold of her right wrist and pushed her against the side of the cell with the other hand, before bringing her left wrist behind her back and placing a pair of handcuffs on her. He saw the marks on her wrists, evidence she had worn another set of handcuffs recently. "You have to be handcuffed for the transport. It's protocol", he informed her.

He walked behind her, guiding her out of the cell, and up the two flights up steps to the roof where his transport vehicle awaited. "The vehicle is up here on the roof. It won't be a long flight, only fifteen minutes", he told her.
 
Even though he was male and definitely not what she had expected, he didn't look particularly ominous. He wasn't some collossal giant with hair all over his body and scars covering his face. She knew that he couldn't be terribly nice or he wouldn't be a corrections officer at the Center, but at least his appearance wasn't too daunting. She was about to speak when the door slid open and he walked in. She shut her mouth immediately and remained silent as he advanced on her. She groaned a little when he pushed her against the wall. She hated it when they did that, it wasn't like she was going to try to run. But it was 'protocol'.

She winced when the cuffs clicked together, taking its place exactly on top of her already red wrists. She sighed, feeling the metal bite into her soft skin. She might have been poor but she'd never led a particularly rough life, her skin was delicate and feminine. She walked out of the cell and up the stairs as he guided her, eyeing the hovercraft warily. She didn't particularly like them. She climbed in and sat in the seat he pushed her to, her wrists pressing against the front of the seat. When he got in next to her she glanced over at him and asked timidly, "Is it as bad as they say....sir?"
 
As he got into the seat and started driving, he looked over at her and contemplated her question. It was odd, that she seemed more curious than scared about the center. He knew that although tall, he wasn't an especially daunting figure, and didn't want politeness to be mistaken for weakness. He never liked to be too friendly with a new convict. "Well, Elsa, you'll find out soon enough. But I can't imagine you'll like it very much. That's more or less that point." He paused for a few moments, looking ahead at the sky.

"In a traditional prison, you are just left to think about what you've done. That's not really the case here. At the Center, you will be constantly reminded that you committed a crime deserving of punishment. You are aware, of course, that punishments of a physical and mental nature take place there."

As he looked over while he spoke, he tried to see beyond the dirt and the slight odor that Elsa had from lack of hygiene at the courthouse jail. Looking at her smooth skin, her soft facial features, he decided that she was actually prettier than he first thought. He would feel a bit bad for processing her into the jail. He had advanced quickly at the Center, and was only twenty-seven himself. Despite the age difference, she was probably the type of girl he would be interested in getting to know better out in the real world, if not for her circumstances, he thought, as the vehicle alighted on the roof of the Center.
 
She tried her best not to look at him. She could only imagine the things he was going to do to her when they got to the Center. Beat her, starve her, any number of horrible things. The judge had told her that she couldn't be raped, but she wasn't sure if that rule was really followed at a place like the Center. It could be viewed as just another punishment, and the guard could lie. Who would believe a convicted woman anyway? She was obviously terrible for being in jail. She sighed softly and looked out the window at the sky whizzing by. She hoped that it wouldn't be too horrible, but now she was beginning to regret her choice. Was she going to be able to survive these six months of hell?

When the hovercraft landed on the roof of the Center she shifted her weight a little and cleared her throat again. The time had finally come. She was going to be processed and then entered into the system, giving up her citizenship for the next six months. The hovercraft door opened and she wiggled her way out, stumbling a little when her feet hit the ground as she couldn't balance herself with her arms. She stood up as straight as she could, tossing her head once to get the little whisps of brown hair out of her face. She was terrified...but ready.
 
Brendan stood up and exited the vehicle once it came to rest, opening Elsa's door and assisting her out. "You know that I'm not just your chauffeur, Elsa. I'm also your assigned corrections officer. I'll be deciding which work assignments you get, and also will recommend to the warden whether you should get an early release for good behavior. I see in your file you are eligible for release in as little as three months. It's rare that anyone is able to cut their sentence in half, but I'm not opposed to letting you go a month or two early if you play your cards right."

They walked down a couple flights of steps, his hands on her wrists to steady her. He wondered how she would handle her sentence. It was always hard to tell, many fresh faces were brave and confident upon entering the Center, only to break down a few days later. "We're going to go to my office and I'll give you a brief summary of what will go on here. You'll then need to sign the papers to make your commuted sentence official." They walked into a neat, but sparsely decorated office, where he pushed her towards a bench that resembled a piano bench, before sitting down at the desk across the table from her.

"You don't seem very frightened", he remarked to her.
 
She sat at the bench he pushed her to, landing on it with a little thump. She wriggled and sat up as straight as possible, her wrists still cuffed tightly behind her. She thinks the cuffs are really the worst part of the deal so far, they're so confining and annoying. The orange jumpsuit is only marginally bad, at least she's not naked. She would love a shower though, even if it had to be cold. Anything to get the smell and gross off of her.

She hoped that she could play her cards right. She couldn't imagine that she would really refuse to do any work given to her, unless it was something really horrible. Even then she couldn't really see herself flat-out refusing to do the work. Hopefully she wouldn't get something like cleaning toilets, that would be gross. She thought about it for a moment and decided that her ideal place would be working in either the kitchen or the laundry. Though the food wasn't going to be good and the laundry would be gross, those were her two duties when she was at home. Feed her siblings and wash their clothes.

She looked up at her corrections officer, understanding now that she was basically stuck with him until she got to leave, which was hopefully going to be sooner rather than later. "I am terrified, sir." she admitted, a tiny waver in her voice, "but I do not see reason to show my fear."
 
"Well, you're doing a good job of hiding it", came the reply. A one page document with a lot of writing on it was thrust before her. "This is your Agreement of Admission to the Center. You'll have to sign it at the bottom. If you want to sign it after I explain it, I'll take your handcuffs off for a moment. We can't take them off permanently until you are thoroughly searched. I know you were already in jail before you came here, but we don't know if they searched you properly." He paused, analyzing her facial expressions before continuing.

"You're basically agreeing to abide by our rules in exchange for the reduction of your sentence. I must admit to you, we don't promise much to you in return. You've committed a serious crime, and you're here for serious discipline. I think you know the basic guidelines. No permanent injuries, and no rape. There's also a new one. Inmates are not permitted to be struck with a closed fist or with any implement unless it is part of a formal discipline session, which must be approved by the deputy warden. You may also request to see the deputy warden at any time, but unless it's about a violation of one of those rules, I have to warn you, she doesn't like having her time wasted. You might regret it if you request to see her to complain that I'm just not being nice to you", he said with an expression that seemed to indicate that he wasn't kidding.

"If you go ahead and sign, it's 3:00 now. So we'll spend the rest of the day getting you processed. You'll go from here to be strip-searched by a female guard, then on to a medical exam, followed by a shower and assignment of your initial uniform. Then, before you're assigned to your cell for the night, I'll go over the rules here in more detail. But I have to warn you, should you agree to this, you will lose liberties that you have taken for granted as basic rights. I'm not just talking about your physical freedom. Here, having adequate living space, clothes, hygiene, sexual gratification, even access to bathroom facilities - are all considered privileges. They can be restricted or taken away from anyone here at any time. So, now that I'm done my speech, do you have any questions, or do you want me to let you sign?"
 
She fidgeted throughout his entire speech, really unsure of how to take all of this. This place seemed so serious about everything and she hadn't thought that her crime was terribly serious. So she had stolen a car, so what? She hadn't murdered anyone or even tried to assault anyone. When she had been apprehended by the police she hadn't fought, she hadn't screamed, she did nothing but let them cart her away. She, so far, had been the picture of an ideal prisoner, and yet she could have the most basic of things taken away from her.

She had zero intentions of going to the deputy warden. If she was beaten or raped she would just bear it. She was smart enough to know that if either of those things happened and she reported her corrections officer it wouldn't help her in getting out early. If she could manage the good behavior and get out in three months, she would be free. She'd have jail time on her name, but having served it at the Center would give her unbelievable street credit.

She nodded and wriggled her cuffed wrists at the end of his speech, "I'll sign." she said, feeling a little relief when her hands were momentarily freed to sign the agreement. But her hands went right back into the cuffs, as she knew they had to. The only plus she could see in her near future was that she was going to be able to shower.
 
"You're in a bigger hurry to sign than I'm used to seeing", he remarked with a smirk. "You must really have some reason to get out quick. What it is, a boyfriend waiting for you? Girlfriend?" he suggested, with an even bigger grin. He placed the paper into a file, and made some notes on his PDA.

"Well, let's get on to the good stuff. And let me be the first to officially welcome you to the Center", he said, helping her off the bench, and leading her down a long hallway, a flight of steps, and then down another hallway. On the way, they first passed a young inmate being led down the hall in a full orange jumpsuit. Heading down the steps, they passed a thin middle-aged woman being led up the steps by a male guard. The woman was completely naked, and seemed to have dried tears on her face. Brendan looked at Elsa for her expression at seeing this sight.

They turned off the hallway into a large, brightly lit room where a thin, butch-looking female guard in her thirties sat reading a magazine. She had short, spiky, bleached blond hair, and as she stood up and said "Hi, Brendan" with a gruff voice, her defined muscle tone was clearly visible. Inside the room were several hooks hanging from the ceiling, as well as a couple tables that appeared designed for medical examinations. "Here's the new one, Amy", Brendan said to the guard, handing Elsa off. "I'll be back for you in fifteen minutes, Elsa", he added, walking back down the hall. "Have fun."
 
She shook her head and even managed a small smile, "No. I know no one here. Except you, kind of." she wasn't exactly sure why he grinned like that. Was it common for inmates to hook up? She hadn't thought it would be, especially in a place like this. She didn't think there would be a lot of free or social time here at the Center. Whatever, she guessed that as a corrections officer he had to find his humor where he could.

She looked at the young inmate as they walked down the hall. They seemed so young, even younger than her. Couldn't be older than sixteen, probably younger. She averted her eyes immediately but caught the naked middle-aged woman next. She couldn't help but shiver lightly, especially at seeing the dried tears on her face. She hoped that she would never have to walk down an open hallway nude like that, or be punished in such a way. She was regretting her decision to come here even more.

Her eyes grew wide at the site of the butch woman in the examination room. Have fun? Her heart sunk a little, what was this woman going to do to her? Nothing bad, she hoped, but there were absolutely no guarantees of that. When the woman uncuffed her she stripped as she was supposed to, standing awkwardly naked there. Her skin was pale and smooth, soft all over. She had barely any freckles or marks, but that didn't mean she wasn't self concious. She wasn't a stick either, her thighs , butt, and breasts shapely.
 
((Sorry I wasn't clear. Meant a boyfriend/girlfriend waiting for you on the outside. xD))

Every interaction at the Center was meant to humiliate its residents, even processes which had good reason to take place. The butch guard, Amy, looked up and down Elsa's smooth, milky skin, as if admiring her curves. "Good girl", she rasped. Now fold your hands behind your head while I do my job. As Elsa complied, she first ran her fingers several times through Elsa's matted hair. She then snapped on a pair of latex gloves, picked up a flashlight and pried open Elsa's lips, saying "open wide". She shined the flashlight into her mouth, searching with her fingers under Elsa's tongue and in the back recesses of her mouth.

The guard then tossed all of Elsa's hair behind her back, removing what little privacy her breasts had under the wisps of hair. She cupped Elsa's curvy breasts with both hands, moving them apart from each other, as if something could be hidden in between. She pulled out and squeezed both nipples a bit before letting go. "Amy" clearly enjoyed her job.

The guard then took a look at Elsa's nether-region and then at the back wall. There was a shiny chrome railing that circled the perimeter of the room, attached to the wall, about two feet off the ground. "Turn around, bend over, and hold onto the railing", the guard said, gesturing towards the railing with her gloved hand.
 
((Oh. xD))

Elsa held back a cringe when Amy said she was a 'good girl'. That had to be the weirdest skeeviest compliment she had ever recieved. She remained silent through the mouth inspection, as though it was disconcerting it didn't really bother her too much. It was when the 'woman' began to touch her breasts that she got really freaked out. She jumped lightly when she pinched her nipples, trying to keep her face as stoney as she could. She didn't want her fear to show, but it was beginning to peak through now.

She turned her head and saw the chrome railing against the wall. She swallowed nervously and walked over to it slowly, grasping it with both hands. It was cold. She stepped back from it, hands still grasping the bar, and bent over, her butt sticking out and her womanhood completely exposed and spread. She was holding the bar extremely tightly, probably too tightly. But she was really nervous now, afraid of what Amy would do to her. She had never been much of a supporter of female-female relationships, and though it was easier for her to deal with a woman strip searching her, the idea of the woman touching her and getting off on it creeped her out.
 
Once Elsa was bent over, grasping the railing, the guard approached her, noticing that Elsa seemed to be twitching a bit from nerves. She placed one hand on Elsa's soft, full butt, and placed the other on her exposed sex, spreading it apart with two fingers, before plunging one it and twisting it around inside for a few seconds and then pulling it out. "So far, so good", remarked the guard. "But stay there. We aren't finished yet." She took off her disposable latex gloves and tossed them in the garbage before snapping on another pair.

"If you've done your math, young lady, there's one place left to check." She dipped her right index finger in a vaseline-like substance, before quickly searching inside Elsa's remaining cavity before she could object. "You're clean", she said, telling Elsa what she already knew. She handed Elsa a hospital style gown that tied in the back. "You can wear this to your next stop", she informed her.
 
Getting through the first invasion was actually easier than she thought it would be. The woman hadn't gone out of her way to try to torture Elsa by touching her, she'd just done it quick and easy. But when she put on another pair of gloves and shoved a finger up inside her anus, she had to hold back a terrified scream. Her body trembled for a moment after the woman pulled out and she stood up quickly so as not to be violated like that again.

She took the gown and put it on quickly, tying it in the back as tightly as she could. The gown wasn't long, it barely reached mid thigh, and it wasn't completely closed in the back. She went in the direction the woman pointed her towards, glad to be away from her. Once she was on her way to the next room she shivered and cringed, feeling gross from the woman's touch. At least she would get a shower, cold or not.
 
Brendan was waiting for her with a man in a white coat as she came out the door. "You don't look so well, Elsa. But we have to go on with our schedule. Dr. Jenkins here is going to perform your medical exam. Besides a standard examination, he's going to inject your shoulder with a microchip that will allow us to track you, and act like a on-board computer. It's an excellent security measure." He didn't tell her the full capacity of this modern marvel. It could also read and report brain activity, telling him remotely if the brain wave activity indicated fear, anger, shame, or other emotions. Just last week, he had to discipline a prisoner for masturbating alone in her cell. The chip had reported brain activity consistent with a climax.

"Finally", Brendan added, "the doctor is going to shave your womanhood, if it is not in such a state already. As you know by now, nudity is sometimes used as a punishment here, and the warden... she doesn't think it serves its full effect if an inmate still has hair to hide behind. Then I'll take you to the shower block. I don't have anything else going on now, so I'll stay for your exam."

He looked at Elsa, now in her thin gown, and realized she was not concealing her apprehension quite as well as before. He studied her to see if she seemed nervous that he would be watching her exam.
 
She was only partially relieved when she saw Brendan standing there with the doctor. She was familiar with him, and a familiar face was always comforting (or it would be until he started the punishments that she knew were going to come), but she knew that anything he had to tell her wouldn't be good. The medical exam didn't sound too bad, really, but the computer chip sounded ominous. She'd heard about men injecting computer chips into their wives so that they could have complete control of them. Is that would this would be like? She shivered slightly, hoping that he wouldn't notice. Hearing about the woman masturbating in her cell was strange, she couldn't imagine why someone would want to pleasure themselves in such a horrid place as this.

When he told her that the doctor was going to have to shave her, Elsa's eyes grew wide. Her mouth dropped open for a second and then she closed it immediately. She averted her eyes for a moment, her cheeks growing red with embaressment. But then she lifted her head again and nodded, knowing that there was nothing she could do to prevent this and so there was no reason for her to fear it. She only hoped that the doctor would be professional about it and not do any excessive touching. She wasn't a virgin, it wasn't like a man hadn't touched her before.

But this was an older man, a doctor in a prison. It was different. She concentrated for a few moments and tried her very best to turn her face stone cold again. For now, she managed to do it.
 
The doctor led her over to an examination table, while Brendan took a seat in the doctor's leather desk chair. "Sit on top", the doctor requested. Once she sat there with her legs dangling off the table, he pushed up her eyelids a bit and studied her pupils. He then took a thin wooden stick and pushed it into her mouth, pressing down her tongue with it and having a look inside. Once all seemed acceptable to him there, he put on a stethoscope and pulled away the top of her gown, listening to her heartbeat in several places. "OK, he said, you can stand up down, and come over here. I'm going to take your height and weight". He motioned to a chart on the wall next to a scale. "Are there any medical conditions you have, or medication you need, that we should know about?"

Brendan didn't say much, but noticed that the blood had drained out Elsa's cheeks and returned to her usual tone, as a few minutes had passed since she was told she would be shaved. She didn't seem to mind this part of the admission process too much.
 
She sat on the examination table and bared through the eye and mouth exam. It was sort of violating, but not as much as the strip search had been. It was also obvious that the doctor wasn't getting any sick pleasure out of this, at least not yet. She breathed for the steth exam and then hopped off the table and walked over to the scale next to the wall. She shook her head, "No medical conditions. I hardly ever get sick. I've never broken a bone, I don't have any diseases." for being so poor she'd been strangely fortunate with her health. Her siblings had gotten sick what seemed like every other week, but Elsa'd always been the strongest.

She fidgeted a little on the scale, knowing that the weird part was coming. She was praying (though she doubted that God actually heard her) that the doctor would be professional about it, then it would go quickly and be over with. She didn't have much hair there anyway, so it shouldn't be a huge ordeal.
 
Doctor Jenkins didn't fit the mold of the usual prison officer. He usually went about his assignments professionally, and didn't go beyond that. "Quite a healthy girl, we have here", Brendan remarked, trying to break the silence. "At least we know we can put her to work. Are you sure she doesn't have any STDs, doctor?", he asked, looking over at Elsa, curious whether that remark would get her back up. "She looks like a pretty good girl, but in my experience, girl thieves are usually pretty slutty."

"She seems healthy", came the response from the doctor, after writing down her height and weight. "Young lady, I'm going to need you to undress for the next part. You can lay your gown on the exam table, and sit back up there." As the gown fell off, Brendan looked over her naked body, for the first, but certainly not the last time. He noticed her unusually smooth, clear skin and her well-proportioned, shapely body.

"Brendan, help me with this", Dr. Jenkins said, pulling out an extension to the table that looked like a pair of stirrups. Brendan helped the doctor attach it to the table. "The doctor has to restrain you for the next part", Brendan informed her. "Put your feet up into these."
 
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