Author: Hoop

Title: Incarceration Ch.6 

Part: Chapter 6

Summary: A force-feeding session for Claire. Laura gets peed on.

Keywords: FF, bd, nc, sad, ws



Emma and Laura were taken straight back to the cell, and left to wait there while Claire and Zoe were cleaned off in the showers. They returned ten minutes later, shivering and bedraggled. 

A stack of clean, neatly-folded jumpsuits had been brought to the cell while they were away. Blankets had also been provided, along with underwear. Claire was silent upon her return. She took one of the blankets and curled up beneath it in one corner of the cell, not even bothering to re-clothe herself first. Zoe pulled on a pair of grey cotton panties before putting on one of the camisoles that had been provided. 

She held the jumpsuit by its shoulders and unravelled it, holding it against her body. She scowled as she zipped herself into the ill-fitting garment.  

"Would anyone like to tell me," she said, "just what the fuck was going on back there?"

She regarded Emma and Laura with a hurt expression. 

"Why were you doing that to me?" 

"We had to." 

"What?"

Emma tried to offer an explanation. "That other girl, with the brown hair, she said we had to make you come before Claire was allowed out of the chair. And, well, you saw what she was going through."

Zoe stared at the floor for a while. She expressed her incredulity with a single, well-chosen syllable.

"Fuck..."

"I'm Emma, by the way." 

They shared introductions. It felt a strange thing to be doing now, after what they had already been through.

Later on in the evening, the girls were escorted to a hall, with plastic benches arranged either side of long, plastic tables. They each received a bowl containing thick stew. Claire stirred her food about aimlessly, eating little. Laura prodded about the mixture with her spork, fishing out the lumps of meat and discarding them on her tray before consuming the remaining vegetables. 

In time, they were brought back to their cell. Emma, Laura and Claire were exhausted from the day's activities, and it was not long before Zoe could hear them breathing deeply as they slept. She lay staring at the ceiling for some hours, eventually drifting into an uneasy sleep.

Claire was the first to be taken away the following morning. All of the girls woke up startled as the door slammed open and a pair of attendants barged in, scooped her up, and carried her out by her arms and legs. Claire felt like she had not had nearly enough sleep, still drained from the extensive session the day before. She felt that she should present some resistance, but ended up hanging limp as the attendants carried her to their destination, a small room with cupboards along one wall, a chair, and a table.

The attendants shoved her down into the chair. One of them produced a roll of black tape, and wound strips of it around Claire's wrists, binding them to the chair's arms. Her ankles were likewise restrained, and with those relatively simple bonds in place, the attendants departed.

She jerked her legs, but only managed to shift the chair by half an inch. She jerked again, shuffling the chair forwards, and then a third time, in completely the opposite direction. After a few more attempts she gave up. Her frustration had her on the verge of tears.

Helen entered the room, carrying a bowl and a spoon. She was wearing a long, plastic apron and elbow-length, black rubber gauntlets. 

"Number 314. Didn't like last night's meal? You hardly touched your food."

She placed the bowl on the table in front of Claire. Steam wafted gently from the stodgy, oatmeal-like substance within. 

"So, if you can't properly take care of your own health, it looks like I'll have to do it for you."

Helen dipped the spoon into the mixture. She held it in front of Claire's face with one hand cupped beneath it, to catch stray drops. 

"The sooner you eat this up, the sooner it will be over, 314. We can't have you getting too skinny."

Claire glowered at Helen. Her biceps were trembling as she tried to tear the tape free from her wrists. She gritted her teeth together. "No," she said.

Claire made a surprised nose as Helen grabbed her by the jaw, squeezing the sides of her mouth and forcing it open. She lunged towards Claire with the spoon. Claire tried to flinch out of the way. The utensil clicked against her teeth, and she found herself with a mouthful of something that tasted like warm, wet cardboard. 

She spat defiantly, and a blob of the pale slop hit Helen's apron and started to slide down it. She sighed. She scooped up another spoonful of gruel and the process repeated itself pointlessly. This time Claire did not manage to be quite as energetic, and ended up with a lot of the mess running down her chin. She could tell from Helen's expression that she was already getting angry.

"Last chance, 314. You are going to eat this."

"You can't make m-" 

Another spoonful. Claire choked as she spat the mess out onto the floor. Then she gasped as Helen slapped her hard across the face. The glove left a stinging sensation, and Claire's eyes started to water.

"You bitch, you f-"

Trying to speak was pointless. Helen forced the spoon in once more, and this time she swiftly brought her other hand below Claire's jaw, holding her mouth shut. "Swallow it down," she said. "There's a good girl."

Claire's throat bobbed as she swallowed reluctantly. She opened her mouth to breathe, and the spoon bumped against her tongue as Helen delivered another load. Not expecting it to come so soon, swallowing got confused with breathing, and Claire was unable to stop herself coughing violently. Another slap. Her face stung. Helen grabbed her jaw once more. Another spoonful. Then another.

Claire's resolve lessened with each painful smack to her face. Soon she could take no more, with her skin prickling as her cheek throbbed. She started to swallow the tasteless gruel obediently. Tears ran from her eyes. There seemed to be no end to the bowl's contents as Helen mechanically fed her spoonful after spoonful.

Eventually, she heard the utensil sliding against the bowl as Helen scraped together the last of the contents. Claire opened her mouth, receiving and swallowing the last spoon of gruel. It sat heavily in her stomach. She let out a little burp. The feeding had left her face in a mess.

"There," said Helen. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She awaited her answer. Apparently the question was not rhetorical.

"WAS IT?" she shouted, raising her hand with her palm opened. Claire flinched away reflexively, screwing her eyes shut.

"N-no!" she said. She opened her eye cautiously. The blow never arrived; Helen simply folded her arms across her chest.

"Well, I'm glad we agree."

Helen crouched down to bring herself eye-level with Claire. "Now, 314," she said. "In the future I expect you to eat all the food with which you are provided. Otherwise I shall have to feed it to you like this." The corner of her mouth twitched into a slight grin. "Actually, I might do that anyway... what do you think, 314?"

"No..." said Claire. "Please."

"If you don't want this to happen again, you'll have to prove to me that you're capable of feeding yourself."

"But I thought..."

"Oh, you thought this was over." Helen giggled. "No," she said, "not quite."

She peeled her apron and gloves off before leaving, dumping them in a pile by the door. Claire was left alone for a while. She licked a stray piece of food from the corner of her mouth. Quite a lot of it had made its way onto her chest during her feeding.

Helen returned, and placed the items she had brought with her on the table. There was a single, white polystyrene cup, and a one-litre plastic bottle of lemonade. Claire looked up at Helen. She was holding a box-cutter knife in her hand. 

"Now, 314, this involves an element of trust. And, on your part, an element of common sense." 

She brought the knife towards Claire's hand. 

"I'm going to cut the tape holding your right wrist," she said. "And before you try anything stupid, you might want to think about the fact that I have this knife, and outside there are two attendants with stun batons. Also, the aftermath will involve me being very upset, and you being in a quite disadvantaged position. Understand?"

Claire nodded.

"Good." 

The knife slid through the strips of black tape. Claire raised her hand and flexed her fingers. Her wrist ached. The tape still clung to her, and she scratched at it with her still-bound hand, peeling the tape away from skin that was red and sweaty.

Helen unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and there was a hissing sound as bubbles rose within it. It frothed up as she filled the polystyrene cup. She slid it towards Claire.

"Drink."

Claire picked the cup up with her free hand. She took a sip. 

"You're more thirsty than that, 314. Have a whole cup."

Claire's eyebrows wrinkled into a little frown, but she downed the rest of the cup's contents, and placed it back on the table.

"Have another." 

The cup was refilled. Claire swallowed down half. She could feel her stomach gurgling as the lemonade sat on top of the heavy meal she had consumed. 

"I really don't think I can..."

Helen looked at her disapprovingly. With some difficulty, she gulped down the remainder. She burped quite loudly, and felt a small fragment of food leap into the back of her throat. She swallowed. There was another bubbling sound as the cup was refilled once more. Helen pushed it towards her.

"The relevance of this will become apparent quite soon," she said. 

Claire forced another cupful down. Halfway through the next one, she belched, and clutched her hand to her mouth.

"Oh no, no no no, keep it down," said Helen, "Keep it down. Breathe. You don't want to be sick."

"I can't manage any more," Claire pleaded. "I can't. Ugh, I'm so-" she belched again, and moaned.

"Hmm. Well, three and a half cups should be okay. Can't have all this go to waste. All right then, " said Helen, "we're done."

"Really?"

"Of course," she said, her voice suddenly gentle. "You did very well, in the end. See, it's so much easier when you cooperate, wouldn't you agree?"

She made the tiniest movement with her hand.

"Y-yes."

Helen reached her open hand towards Claire's face. She flinched away, only to feel Helen's fingers stroke against her cheek with a light touch. "Good girl," she said.

She walked off, and a pair of attendants entered a few moments after she had left. They cut away the rest of the tape, and lifted Claire up by her arms. She was led to another room. The interior was spartan, but clean - the floors and walls were clad in spotless white tiles. A large, stainless steel sink was bolted to one wall. In the centre of the room was a cross-shaped frame of bare metal, with manacles hanging at the corners. Other straps hung from various points.

Claire was stripped from her overalls. The attendants allowed her to keep her camisole, but were insistent about removing her panties. She felt cold metal against her skin as they held her up to the frame. They secured her wrists first, and her legs dangled as they fastened leather straps across her forearms, and another set across her biceps. They took one leg each, securing them to the lower struts of the x-shape. A final pair of belts were crossed over her chest, taking some of the weight off her arms while her breasts were squeezed uncomfortably.

Having bound her to the frame, the attendants left. She hung there, waiting for whatever bizarre torture would be visited upon her next. Ten minutes passed, and nobody came. Then twenty. An hour later, she almost caught herself wishing somebody would arrive to break the monotony. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

---

After Claire had been taken, the three remaining girls had been herded into the mess hall once more, where they were provided with bowls of stodgy, porridge-like gruel. After the bland meal they were returned to the cell, and some time after that, the attendants had come for Laura.

They had stripped her down there and then, leaving her clothes in a pile on the floor. One of the attendants had wrestled her onto a wheeled metal table, and held her limbs in place as his companion attached metal cuffs to her ankles and wrists. They were linked by chains, with the end result being that she was lying face-up, draped over the trolley with her arms and legs hanging downwards.

Laura watched the fluorescent light strips pass overhead. She swivelled her eyes downwards to look at one of the attendants pushing the trolley. They pushed her headfirst through a set of doors, and from her upside-down perspective, she could see the room had two occupants. Helen was standing by the doorway, adjusting some piece of equipment held in her gloved hands. Claire had been tied to an X-shaped frame, and was bobbing up and down uneasily. She looked anxious.

"Open wide, 523".

Helen had appeared alongside the table, holding a short strap. Halfway along it was a metal ring, a little over two inches in diameter. Laura shook her head, her jaw clenched.

"What do you think is going to happen, 523? Stop wasting time, and open your mouth."

Laura did nothing. Helen raised her voice.

"You will do as I say!"

She plunged a pair of fingers between Laura's legs, harshly jabbing them inside her. Laura shrieked as she felt the girl's fingers hook around, and that was the opportunity Helen needed to force the ring into Laura's mouth, wedging her jaw open. She buckled the strap behind her neck, cinching it tight. Laura's tongue moved about restlessly in her exposed mouth, which was forced open in an "O" shape.

"Resistance will do you no good, 523." Helen poked her fingers into Laura's mouth, the same ones she had used previously. "You like that? You like the taste of yourself?" Helen returned her fingers to Laura's cunt, forcing them in again before shoving them to the back of the helpless girl's mouth, causing her to retch. Helen stopped abruptly. 

"I'm getting carried away. That's not the point of this session," she said. She peeled the latex glove from her hand and replaced it with a clean one.

She leaned on the trolley, and pushed Laura towards the frame. She steered her beneath it, adjusting the position so that Laura's head was directly underneath Claire's body. A distance of about twelve inches separated Laura's face from Claire's pussy. Laura turned her head slightly to one side, sparing the girl the indignity of staring directly at her bared, spread genitals. 

Helen stood at Laura's feet.

"Feeling anything yet, 314?"

Laura made some incomprehensible sounds. Claire's thighs were trembling, as if she were aching to bring them together. Her face had gone red from the embarrassment of having the other girl positioned so closely, and so intimately.

"Please," said Claire. "You can't. It's disgusting."

"Sooner or later," said Helen, "it has to come out. That was the best part of a litre of drink, 314."

As the facts slotted into place, Laura's protests became very vocal indeed.

"Uh-uh. Uh-uh."

She made a great deal of useless sounds through her ring gag.

"There's no helping it, 314. I can imagine how you must feel. Trying to hold it all in. You must need to pee so badly. Oh... it must be excruciating."

Claire's eyes were closed. She was cringing, concentrating on taking deep, slow breaths. 

"Let it out, 314. Think of the relief." Helen stepped close to Claire's side, placing a hand a little below her navel. She gave a short push, and Claire gasped.

Helen stepped back. Claire's calves were twitching. Her toes were curling. From beneath her, Laura could see her abdominal muscles tensing and quivering. 

Claire fought the urge bravely for a while longer, squirming against the frame. Minutes passed until the inevitable moment when she cried out, defeated by her own body.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Oh god Laura, it's not my fault, I'm so sorry!"

A stream of piss started to trickle down Claire's thigh. Once the flow started she quickly lost all control, and a torrent of urine started to pour from between the girl's legs.

Laura was doused in lukewarm piss. The droplets rained around her, spattering against her hair and her chest. She spluttered as some of it inevitably splashed into her mouth, bringing with it a salty, unpleasant flavour. She screwed her eyes shut, twisting her head from side to side, but finding no escape from the deluge.

Eventually, the shower ceased. Laura blinked her eyes open. She tilted her head as far as she could to one side, and did her best to cough up the last dregs of piss, scooping the liquid out of her mouth with her tongue. She was thoroughly soaked.

Claire was crying uncontrollably above her, repeating the same apology over and over in between huge, sobbing breaths. She was inconsolable as the pair of attendants untied her from the frame and escorted her out of the room. Helen stood over Laura, and looked down at her.

"I'll send someone to get you cleaned up," she said. "In a little while."

---

Author note: People still reading? It's probably obvious I'm writing this on a scene-by-scene basis, and I'm open to suggestions for new scenes. Although I do have a few more ideas of my own :)

