HOME AWAY FROM HOME

BY SHARPERGIRL
me55ed_up_mi55@yahoo.co.uk

[ part 1 ]

I literally had what I owned in a single holdall as I said goodbye to my mother and Delia, my probation officer. Six months in Borstal for drugs had taken its toll on me. My mum had often talked about my great aunt in Scotland. "She'd know what to do with you!" She'd shout at me. I had been a wayward girl it's true. But my Dad's departure at age ten, and my mum's slide into alcoholic haze meant that I was going elsewhere for affection and escapism I craved as a young teenager. A rap sheet developed of petty juvenile crime, at sixteen I was already dealing amphetamines and E. I'd been involved in an "escort agency", "massage parlour" and had pretty much seem it all except for actually touting my body on the streets of East London. I got nicked on the last occasion as part of a big drug sweep in my area. I had developed a smack habit and was found with rather too much of the good stuff on me to get away with personal possession. I'd served six months of a 2-year sentence in borstal and I was just turned eighteen. I'd been through a horrible drug rehab programme, and although now rid of my craving for heroin was still in a fragile condition emotionally. They wanted me to be transferred to a women's prison for another eighteen months of hell, but the gang that got busted were looking for the informant and I was on their list of possibilities. So, luckily my case was reviewed and I was to be sent away partly to complete my sentence and partly to disappear from the gang's heavies. Those guys would have snuffed me without a second thought if they had caught up with me.

I mentioned to my probation officer that my Mum had said there was a distant aunt in Scotland who was involved in a kind of half way scheme between borstal and prison, and would it be possible to send me there out of the way for the next eighteen months. It took Delia a week to get back to me. She said it was true I had a relative that was running an experimental program in the wilds of Scotland to try to rehabilitate young offenders. It was all quite low-key as it was an experiment, but this made it a good option for my needs. The only problem was that it was a fixed three-year program with no exceptions. I only had eighteen more months to do. To my great disappointment the court decided it would be safest for me to do the three-year term in Scotland. The decision was made, I was about to board the train handcuffed to my escort, Miss Phipps, who I instantly disliked but who was there for my protection as well as to ensure I was delivered directly to the "Midway Institute". I knew Phipps was nothing more than a prison warden (screw as they are called in the UK), as such I expected she'd be a bull dyke and would give me a hard time on the journey. People tend to think girls that go to prison are hard cases who can look after themselves, they are wrong in most cases. I was small, skinny and had been labelled as 'damaged goods' since I was fourteen. After a while in borstal you get to believe it.

We had been on the train for hours. The bitch Phipps had kept me handcuffed to her every second of the way. She even insisted on going to the toilet with me. Even when I said I needed to take a shit she came with me and made me do it with my wrist cuffed to hers. I was desperate to go so I did, the time in borstal had made me used to having little dignity and also aware of how nasty people can be. She watched everything I did and when I'd done cleaning myself with toilet tissue and flushed the bowl she made her move. "Did you bring your wash things with you?" I had, I had told her I wanted to freshen-up. "Good, then we will be able to clean you properly then, kick off your jeans and thong and come here." She pointed to the sink in to which she was running hot water. I thought about making a fuss, screaming and shouting or pulling the emergency stop cord. She could have knocked me out with one blow, and who would take any notice of a handcuffed convict anyway. She unlocked my handcuff and smiled, watching me intently as I slipped my trainers off and stepped out of my jeans and knickers. "You do as I say now slut! Or I'll be delivering you in a box, understand?" I knew she could beat the hell out of me and not leave a mark if she wanted to, screws are good at that. She was rummaging in my washbag. It was an inter-city train so the toilet compartment was a reasonable size, but certainly not built for two people. 'She began lathering soap between her hands in the hot water. "Bend right over Susan, keep your legs straight ahs spread." The words were almost familiar. Two of the screws at borstal had asked me to do similar things. Her slippery hands were upon me. Rubbing inside the crack in my backside. A finger poked at my arse hole. Little by little wriggling past my tightly shut sphincter the soapy finger invaded me. I was filled with revision at my own inability to protect myself. I had once been a spirited girl, but resistance on previous occasions had lead to a broken nose and two cracked ribs. So, the tears came and I gritted my teeth. She slid her finger in and out of my anus, slowly at first, and then fast, sometimes withdrawing completely before stabbing back inside. Her nails were quite sharp and I was gasping with each time she did it. "It's a filthy little arse Susan, but it's very tight. They must have left you alone in Borstal, a tight little arse like yours should have been fucked out every day to make it slack, you were very lucky Susan." I guessed my luck has run out. She stopped fingering me. "Stay like that" she commanded, as I was about to raise myself. She took something from my wash bag, fumbled about with it and then I felt it. As soon as she drove the toothbrush into me I caught a whiff of the minty paste she'd spread on it. "Now Susan you have to be very clean all the time where you are going, so let's start you off right. My butt hole burned with the mint paste, she stirred the brush around scraping the paste into the walls of my back passage, and I started to cry loudly and plead with her. "Please, Please don't I'll do anything, please stop, it's hurting!" "No pain, no gain Susan, you are going to have a sparkling little bottie when you get to your new home so you should be grateful!" She started to push the brush in and out of me; light brown foam ran down my legs, I wanted to be sick. Eventually she got bored with it and gave me a wad of tissue to clean up. "Now show me your pee hole Susan" I was still sobbing and my heart sank. I had to lean back against the wall with my legs apart and hips out thrust. "Hold your slit open Susan, pinch your piss flaps and pull them apart!" I was bawling now, too ashamed and disheartened to resist the dominant bitch. She held the wet soap in one hand and was gently working a cotton bud around and around on it's surface. She put the soap on the sink and approached me with the bud, I looked away, the train rocked a little and she hesitated as she crouched down in front of my splayed cunt. With the soapy hand she placed her thumb on my clit and pushed it and the surrounding skin upward. This had the effect of exposing the opening to my pee hole. Gently at first she rolled the tip of the cotton bud in the entrance to tiny hole. The soap burned inside it and soon she began to push firmly the stinging was unbearable I gasped and called out, "No, oh, no, please, ah, oww, oh god please no". It felt like the whole head of the soapy bud was in that tiny sensitive tube I felt as if I was ready to pee again, it was horrible and stood there in my pleading shame wailing, and letting her do it to me. Suddenly, she jammed the bud right in, I squealed and my legs gave way, I collapsed to the floor squatting in front of her having pushed her hand away from my pussy. The burning pain shooting up through me from between my legs overwhelmed me. There was a stunning blow to the side of my head. I thought my eardrum was burst, I was sent sprawling across the toilet floor and cracked the back of head on the porcelain bowl. She stood up and came toward me. I cowered on the floor expecting a kicking; remembering all the other kickings I'd had curled up on the floor in foetal position while some monster battered my arse and cunt with their polished uniform shoes. I closed my eyes and braced. It did not come; she simply took me by my pony tail and lifted me bodily. "Get back into position Susan, you have just earned an extra scrubbing out for that." I was breathing heavily moaning and sobbing in hopeless gasps as she took another cotton bud, but this time rolled it inside the neck of the toothpaste tube. "This may sting a little, she giggled as again she pressed on my clit to open the tube below, I shook a little, my clit sent little shocks out, but nothing to what was about to come. I strangled my screams, stood shuddering fighting against the urge to cave in again. In, out and around and around she went with the burning little wand. She finally withdrew it, a little trickle of fluid followed, stinging as it passed. I was crying my eyes out, no longer in control. My face was wet with tears, my head throbbed, and my ear was still deaf, my backside ravaged and my pee hole red raw. "Put your panties and jeans back on Susan, hurry up we need to get your handcuff back on and get out of this smelly toilet!" More than a few heads turned toward us as we headed down the aisle back to our seat. But who was going to question what had gone on in there? Just some criminal bitch getting a lesson in manners is what their faces told me. The rest of the journey passed without incident. We lunched on sandwiches; I refused to drink anything fearing another visit to the toilet.

After being on trains all day and into the night, I was now sitting in the back of a police van being driven across windswept moorland to the "Midway". Phipps had handed me over to a burly copper who did not acknowledge or speak to me the whole time. Though I was thankful he did not make me wear the handcuff. The van pulled up at a gatehouse where a tired looking uniformed screw ushered me inside and signed all the papers. The van left and I stood there with the screw eyeing me in the dim light. His gaze unnerved me, we were completely alone, and he could have done anything to me without a soul to witness it. It would not have been the first time a male screw had used my body to dump his seed, I said a little prayer and hoped I would be taken inside soon. The gate was wide and had a barrier across. There was a perimeter fence unlit running off into the darkness outside. I looked into the compound and could make out some dim lights and the shapes of some single story buildings that looked to be a long way away. "Miss Hilda will come and get you, stand there till she comes and keep quiet. She's not going to like you looking like that so you'd better just keep quiet and do as you are told. You'd better call her Ma'am as well or you'll get of to a bad start and that is not what you want with Miss Hilda." I huddled in my leather jacket and jeans as the night air was cool and there was a wind blowing. I'd been told to stand by the door and it was partly open. Eventually I saw the headlights of a car approaching. The small vehicle pulled up at the gatehouse and a tall grey haired woman wearing a tweed skirt and jacked got out. She looked like she was caught in a time warp and would have looked completely at home if it had been 1950. Her face was pale, lightly wrinkled. Her mouth was stern with thin lips. She greeted the screw with a nod and peered over her spectacles at me with cold grey eyes.