Bend over High Quality XXX

It's not what you think . . . it's so much better!

"So what you said at the dinner party was incorrect?"

"Yes sir."

"So why did you plead not guilty?"

Tabatha froze and did not answer -- she did not know what the correct response was. The captain now turned vicious. He tugged her hair from behind so that her head lolled backwards.

"Answer me!" he hissed into her ear.

"I, I don't know, sir."

That seemed to satisfy Baxter for now.

"I will report this confession to Judge Fair," he sneered sitting down at his desk again. "I'm sure he will find it very interesting." He now looked at Tabatha again.

"Now, there's a few things we need to sort out," he said. "Number one, your prison job. We require all prisoners contribute to the prison as recompense for your keep in the prison. Now I have here..." He looked around his desk then banged it in frustration.

"Slave, in here now!"

The slave came rushing through the door and knelt beside Tabatha again.

"I told you I wanted the work matrix on my desk!" Baxter barked.

"Yes Dominus, of course," the slave grovelled, and rushed back out again to get it. Within seconds it was on his desk and the slave was back on her knees. Baxter was clearly annoyed.

"Get in there for now, slave!" he ordered her, pointing to something Tabatha hadn't seen before. In the corner of the office, there was what appeared to be a glass shower cubicle with a ceiling. The slave meekly opened the door of this, got in and turned around to face outwards.

"Now," Baxter continued, "we have an opening for you in the kitchen. You will do that job for the rest of the month, depending, and then we will see if that is suitable."

"Thank you sir," she said, and she actually meant it -- talk of stone breaking had had her worried.

"Okay, now the other matter," he said, again shuffling papers on his desk to get to the relevant bit. "Greenville is involved in a new pilot scheme for prisoners who have sentences of over five years," he continued. "Now, as you may know, prisoners are not entitled to receive visits, but may send and receive one letter a month. However, under the new scheme, long-term prisoners such as yourself can be given a choice -- one visit from one person of your choice in return for not receiving any letters for a year, or to simply continue with the usual system."

"Okay, sir."

"Of course I think we're being a bit soft, but apparently it is expedient in making sure a prisoner's affairs are in order."

"Yes sir," Tabatha was saying dumbly. She was thinking of seeing her husband!

"And I have to inform you security is quite stringent at the visit."

"Yes sir."

"So do we have a decision?"

"Oh yes sir!"

"Okay," said Baxter swiftly. He was now checking papers again. "So you will be working in the kitchen, with a day off today, which is Tuesday," he said consulting the matrix. "Because of the need to prepare breakfast, you will be taken from your cell at five am and will finish once the kitchen is tidied from supper."

"Okay sir."

"Right, I want to sort out this disagreement between you and my slave."

Tabatha had nearly forgotten about that. Baxter now walked over to the glass cubicle and opened. The slave looked surprised.

"Get in there and get your stories straight. I will give you two minutes." Tabatha, surprised at what was happening, walked over and tried to squeeze in the cubicle, which was clearly not meant to take two. Baxter pushed her in and closed the door.

Tabatha and the slave tried to rearrange themselves but they were hopelessly squashed together and uncomfortable, with Tabatha's hands still bound. Tabatha was thankful one of them had clothes on. It was now that she noticed that the cubicle was made of one-way mirrors.

"It's called a Slave Booth," the slave said, by way of explanation.

"Oh, okay," Tabatha gaped. "What's your name, by the way?"

"I don't have a name, I'm just slave meat," the slave said duly. Tabatha guessed that Baxter could listen to this conversation.

"Look, you've got to tell the truth," Tabatha said.

"Oh, the prisoners," the slave sighed, "think they'v

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