Stenton Prison for Inexcusable Women: Chapter 3: Lily of the Laws

[afictionalphile]

Disclaimer: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65185502

Content Warnings 

• Extensive Forced Diaper Wearing (Wetting/Messing)
• Extensive Public and Private Humiliation
• Extensive Corporal Punishment and Bondage
• Extensive use of the themes of fear, shame, guilt, and dread
• Some consensual sexual slavery/servitude themes
• Occasional Sexual Themes
• Occasional Sexual Intercourse
  
  ***I do not condone any of the events or themes in this story, and do
  not intend to glorify or advocate that anyone conduct their life in
  this way. Nobody should model any sort of erotic behavior on the
  events of this story.***
  
  Previous chapter: ------

  Lily rested her mop on her shoulder. After a moment with her eyes closed and her breath steady, she peed. Warmth surged out of her. It hit the front of her diaper like a tennis ball against a wall, and then it sloshed backwards beneath her. She took a deep breath. It wasn’t a good feeling. She didn’t like her pussy being dipped in a pool of her own hot urine. But it was a familiar feeling, and fleeting. The diaper absorbed it all to carry it like a pocket against her inner thighs. Whatever peeing used to feel like was a distant memory.

  Another inmate walked by, heedless of the wetness on the ground. The woman smelled like sweat. She smelled of worse things too. This inmate had clearly come from the yard, and brown streaks of dirt from the women's tennis shoes followed the inmate through the part of the block that Lily had been told to mop. Lily sighed and took the mop off of her shoulder. She held it over the bucket, wrung it out, and then plunged it back into the soapy broth.

  Clean the floor from Cell 230 to 260.

  That’s it.

  That’s all she had to do.

  So she set out to deal with the tracks left by the other inmate. She didn’t bother yelling at her. What was the inmate to do? It’s not like there was a mat by the big double doors that separated the interior of Cellblock A from the yard. One couldn’t leave shoes anywhere but in one’s own cell (against the wall, under the cot, if one didn’t want to anger a guard during an inspection).

  This wasn’t a house, where shoes were left by the door.

  This was a public place.

  And nobody cared whether or not the floor was actually clean.

  Lily did though, so Lily mopped. She started in the direction where the woman came from, towards the double doors to the yard. She wasn’t supposed to go beyond cell 230 with her bucket and mop, that wasn’t her job. Her job was to just clean the floor from Cell 230 to 260 and to do it, and nothing else, for an hour.

  That ‘nothing else’ included talking, but she spoke anyway. Other inmates that she knew would come by and they’d say hello. Sometimes they’d ask her if she knew where another inmate went, or if the guard walking on the upper deck was in a good mood. Those bad moods really mattered because that determined if even a little amount of conversation merited discipline. But almost always, even the surliest guards don’t feel like writing a discipline report on an inmate for some chitter chatter. That doesn’t mean they never did, no, they absolutely will at some point and there is also nothing to do about that. But there’s no point in living to avoid it. They’ll write up an inmate when they want to, and Lily had learned to accept it.

  She took a look at the nearby guard. He was a big man, and thick around the belly. He had a belt with a club in it, though she’d never seen any of them actually use those. He was up on the upper deck, and he looked like he had seen the same thing Lily did; a woman coming in from the yard in muddy shoes. He made his way to the nearby staircase and went in the direction of the orange-clad woman in muddy shoes.

  Mopping wasn’t enough to fully occupy Lily’s attention, even if it was difficult to make out the dirt footprints against the reflective surface of the floor. She felt like a tracker, following some wounded animal. But really, no, she felt nothing like a hunter. She felt more like a roomba, with wheels and an optical lens that could spot filth and hone in on it. Lily see dirt, Lily clean dirt. That’s what Lily is capable of.

  The guard disappeared into the cell where the woman had gone.

  Honing in to check that diaper. A different breed of roomba.

  He came out a few moments later, with the woman walking in front of him. The woman’s face was expressionless as she walked in front of the guard. Her diaper was thick. Its outlines were clear in front, and they puffed out the orange fabric of her jumpsuit. Lily’s was no better, no, Lily’s was worse. Most uniforms shrunk in the caustic detergent of the laundry rooms, though the tightness and revealing embarrassment around the crotch were always the least concerning aspects of the shrinkage. The outlines of the woman’s diaper were visible on her tummy, where the top of it stopped, and across her hips, even though the plastic wings of the diaper there were very thin. The woman looked uncomfortable as she made her way, and her gait had the tinge of a waddle to it. She had probably been like that when she came through Lily’s section of the floor before, but Lily had been too busy peeing to notice.

  She had noticed the woman’s smell, though, and it was no surprise that she was going where she was going. Not far away, towards the center of the cross-shaped block where Lily lived (and would continue to live) was a changing center. It was one of two in Cellblock A, the other being located symmetrically opposite across the rotund central area of the block. It was nothing more than an area blocked off by a low wall, with chairs oriented around a medical table. The woman walked there and sat down in one of those chairs. From Lily’s position in the middle of the hall, she could count maybe ten or so heads sitting in chairs just like that woman. She knew almost all of them (though this particular woman in the muddy feet was someone she wasn’t familiar with). They all stared blankly at the medical table, which featured another guard as well as a woman, an inmate, stark naked on her back.

  The best seats in prison.

  Lily watched as the guard began his return journey down the hall. His boots squeaked as he went.

  Lily looked at the path that the guard and the woman took. Another trail of muddy footprints crossed the space between 230 and 260. These were less visible, but Lily had little else to direct her attention towards. She made a mental note to mop down in that direction once she was done with the first set of footprints that the inmate had made. She doused the head of the mop once more in her bucket and made her way.

  One of the things to think about in Stenton, when there is just nothing else to think about, is when you’re going to get your diaper changed. To say that Lily was not resentful of the woman who had tracked dirt not once but twice through her section of the floor was an understatement. She was jealous. Jealous that the woman was now sitting in the changing queue. The best seats in the house. She’d be out of her diaper and she looked like she’d used it well enough to make the trip worth it. Did it suck to be over there, with the other women in the changing queue? Yup, always did. Did it smell bad to be over there? No doubt. It never smelled good when you sat down in a chair next to multiple other grown women in soiled diapers. Was it fun to be stripped while a guard draws wipes through your ass? Nope. Never was and never would be. But at least the full diaper would be gone, and that was something that the woman with the muddy feet could say that Lily couldn’t.

  Though it wouldn’t be long until a guard took her there either. Hopefully. Although you could always guarantee that at some point, for even the slightest thing, a guard might cell you and write you up, you simultaneously couldn’t guarantee that a guard would actually take you to the changing area.

  Whether or not a guard took an inmate to one of the changing stations around the block had nothing to do with what was in their diaper. Everyone was on a schedule, more or less. Even a quiet, boring, and ordered place like Stenton prison could experience enough chaos such that any schedule could become wildly unpredictable. When it came to changing, guards had a plan for the day, one they didn’t share, often not even with each other. All of them, though, agreed that the diapers were there for punishment, and that if a little chaos resulted in discomfort for the inmates of Stenton, then chaos was working as intended.

  There was no legal requirement that the part of Lily’s sentence that enumerated ‘three diaper changes a day’ had to be religiously followed. There was no independent committee that interviewed prisoners to make sure they were getting the appropriate amount of diaper changes a day, according to what their judge had ordered. Nobody cared, for one, and nowhere in Lily’s sentence did it say she had a right to any amount. It only said:

  In addition; Lily is to be diapered for the entirety of her incarceration. She will be permitted no more than three diaper changes in a calendar-day during the duration of her custody. This aspect of Lily’s punishment will begin with the issuance of this sentence.

  Indeed, she hadn’t. She’d lost track of the days long ago, but she knew without a doubt that she’d got no more than three diaper changes a day. The average was undoubtedly lower. There were days when she only got two. There had been some sticky, hot, itchy, mushy, smelly, sleepless days where she’d only got one. Three was just the ceiling. There were no four-change days in her memory to match any of the under-three days. The only thing keeping her at three at all was the guards, for following the rules was part of their nature.

  Lily’s lawyer had prepared her for sentencing, way back when. “They’ll probably give you two. We’re fighting for three.”

  “Why not four?” Lily said. Technically, five changes was a possible limit, but she knew enough to not hope for that.

  The lawyer shook her head. Apparently, Lily’s lawyer knew enough to not hope for four either. Lily was already convicted by that time, already in orange, already diapered. There had been a thick diaper waiting for her in the side chamber where they took her after they dismissed the jurors that had decided to convict her. She’d remembered holding it together in court but bursting into tears as soon as that huge white diaper came into view. Her bowels churned and her feet felt like lead in the bright concrete warren beside the courtroom. Her hands had been cuffed in front of her, and two guards on either side were holding her by her biceps. Their guidance was firm as they took her, almost limp, to the table. They took off her cuffs and stripped her…

  Her last use of the toilet had been so unceremonious. A rushed evacuation before it was time to listen to the prosecution put the cherry on top of Lily’s public evisceration.

  A few months later, with her jury long gone and presumably eating ice cream and tanning on the fine Shamurian beaches, her lawyer shook her head. “No, four would anger the judge,” she said. “Three is the best we get. We ask for four and we guarantee that the judge will give you two.”

  Lily understood negotiation well enough to agree with her lawyer’s logic. It was hard to sit there in the sentence proceedings (there were two appearances in court prior to her actual sentencing) and listen to her lawyer argue for three diaper changes a week. Especially since she was already wearing them in jail, between her conviction and her final sentencing. In jail, prior to sentencing, they gave her five changes, and that was already unbearable. Worse, she’d seen the path of many women whose trials had gone before hers. She’d seen them all try to adjust to four from five (most wound up getting four to five changes, but Lily was in for something more serious). All whined and begged and complained.

  “My client is sorry for what she did, she has expressed sincere guilt. This is her first mistake before the law, and she is going to vow that it never happens again.”

  It wouldn’t. It literally couldn’t. They’d made sure to take away Lily’s license to practice law as soon as they diapered her.

  “My client looks forward to her punishment,” her lawyer said. Lily remembered herself sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair for the first time not wearing a dress, but in the same kind of orange jumpsuit she wore today. She had tried to imagine that being true; that she was looking forward to it.

  Yes, I’m excited for what’s coming next. I woke up this morning in my jail cell in my diaper, and listened to the woman next to me in the van to the courthouse who told me that the smartest thing to do, if I could, was to shit myself as soon as I got off the van so I wouldn’t have to shit my diaper in court because they generally wouldn’t change me again until the whole day’s proceedings were done. I figured she was right, yet she was only half right. Piss and poop was in my diaper for an hour before they changed me to bring me out here. I just got my asswiped by a policewoman who thinks my buttcheeks need to be scrubbed like metal pan, and yes, I am looking forward to years and years more of this.

  “Lily understands that four changes a day is fairly prompt and she’s aware that her crimes are too serious for that, and she wouldn’t want her upcoming incarceration to be wasted on a punishment that isn’t severe enough.”

  Her lawyer spoke correctly, if inaccurately. No matter what, once convicted, it was best to prostrate yourself before the mighty righteous will of Shamurian society. Even if you plead ‘not guilty,’ you were supposed to be ecstatic and thankful that the good people of Shamuria had put you where you belonged. You didn’t have to believe it, but you had to say it.

  The prosecution argued for two changes a day. The prosecuting attorney, the winning attorney, was dressed impeccably and conducted herself with the same bright-eyed enthusiasm she had worn the entire way. She was young and Lily had overheard that her case was her first-ever as the lead attorney. The swagger she brought was contagious, and the jury had awarded her with a conviction.

  “Got the bitch!”

  The bitch was Lily. She was got.

  Lily picked at her hot wet diaper and took a break from mopping, resting the haft once again against her shoulder. She tried to recall the attorney’s name, but couldn’t. She must have been no older than twenty three at the time. Long straight blond hair, always wore a skirt to the knee and leggings. Designer jackets, glasses. More importantly, she had perfect pitch. She sang a lullaby to the jury in a manner Lily could only dream of. Her voice rose and fell as she unveiled fact after fact, damning Lily with every note. Two hours into the first witness hearing, and Lily realized she had worse odds than a lobster hovering above boiling water. She asked questions and left them unanswered, leaving the jury to contemplate Lily’s criminality on their own. She rarely pushed the line and the judge rarely had to scold her, whereas Lily’s lawyer had to fight tooth and nail for every edge.

  This woman doesn’t need a law degree, the young prosecutor had said during her closing statements. She needs diapers. And you’ve got a chance to put her in them for a long time. It took just two hours of deliberations, which is barely more than the time it takes for a jury to retreat into the decision room, have a snack, and run through the list of things they have to do. Fresh off cold-cut sandwiches and soda, the jury took advantage of their chance, and a diaper had been laid out for her in the processing room.

  Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! A win for Shamuria and humanity!

  Months later, when the number three came down from the mouth of the judge, the lawyer tried to be cheerful for Lily. It was as if to say, an average of eight hours in your piss and shit between changes isn’t so bad. Imagine if it was twelve! Yeah, it could have been six. It could have been less than five hours on average. But eight isn’t so bad. You’ll be fine. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yeah, you’ll have to sit in it for a while longer than you do now, but those two extra changes of five a day don’t amount to that much.

  It was the only thing that Lily could be cheerful at throughout the whole trial.

  Lily watched as a tall, slender woman exited a cell in the section she was assigned to clean. Her name was Lindsey, and like Lily and the other woman, she too was dressed in orange with an obvious diaper underneath. She stepped out onto the newly mopped floor and looked both ways, as if addressing a street that she was about to cross. In doing so, she made note of the guard, who had returned to his post on the catwalk. She looked at Lily too, and gave Lily a long, forlorn look until Lily turned away and pretended to be busy.

  Lily continued mopping and made a deliberate effort to not pay attention to the woman. Lindsey was a newer inmate, here for maybe three months at most, and was a four-changer. It was weird, how quickly you learned to remember how often someone got their diapers changed. But it mattered because it directly affected how pleasant they were to be around. Lily knew a few more things about Lindsey though, as she was one of the more famous residents of cellblock A. A television actress, Lindsey received a two year sentence for bribing an admissions office with cash to help get her daughter into an elite Shamurian university. Rumor was that wouldn’t be the end of it, as some of the other inmates claimed to have seen her get loaded back on the ferry, which either meant you were being freed or you were going back to court. In Lindsey’s case, it couldn’t be the former; she hadn’t been in Stenton long enough and judges never, ever, reduced sentences. Lily hadn’t seen her go, and hadn’t heard any concrete evidence of such happenings. But she did know that no matter what, whether you’re a five-changer or a one-changer, the only toilets in the building are located behind the huge blast doors for the guards. This wasn’t a guess. Inmates who had the misfortune to be taken through the doors reported that on the other side were a pair of men’s and women’s bathrooms, just for guards. Not really a big surprise, Lily saw no need to take her own trip through the doors to find out. One was never in a state of freedom when going through those.

  Just so, by standing in the middle of the hall, Lindsey had already internalized the dominant code of ethics among inmates at Stenton.

  You have to shit, so shit responsibly.

  Shitting at or after lockdown was a recipe for drama, as was doing it at mealtime. You tried to avoid doing it in your cell at all, unless you had a good reason. That rule was more up in the air, as sometimes avoiding a dirty diaper in the cell was a bit much to ask of one-changers. Everyone violated it at one point or another, sometimes simply because a lockdown could happen in the middle of the day. Lily had once been sitting in the changing area, one inmate away from getting her dirty diaper changed, when the alarm bell rang. She had to race back to her cell, her diaper still engorged and disgusting. That lockdown had lasted over two hours and her cellmate had to suffer through it with her. There were lots of reasons that could happen, some more forgivable than others. The rule was that you tried to avoid it.

  Lily saw out of the corner of her eye that Lindsey was still doing her business. It would seem odd to do it so blatantly, but it made perfect sense. She wanted to do it out of her cell, in a place where nobody would be surprised by her. Now and then that backfired, and a rowdy prisoner might point and laugh at a woman trying to be as obvious as possible so others could avoid her. Nobody wanted to come around a corner just to bump into a grown woman taking a dump in her pants. You learned to appreciate blatant evacuation as a global favor, as humiliating as it was. The most important thing, which Lindsey knew already, was to do it so the guards would notice it. Being obvious was great, yet being heckled drew even more attention, no matter how much it made you want to die.

  That was another part of it. The surest way to ensure that the guards don’t change a diaper is to ask them to change it. The surest way to sit in poop for the rest of the day was to see yourself to the changing queue on your own. As dirty as Lindsey was making her diaper, she wouldn’t be changed out of it until a guard decided it was time for her to sit in the chairs.

  Finally, Lindsey finished loading her diaper. She stretched, checked again to see if Lily was watching her, and then looked up once again at the guard. The guard, who had surely seen everything, didn’t react. Lindsey didn’t hide her dismay, and rolled her neck dramatically and sucked on her teeth. There was nothing to do, though. She fixed her uniform, pulling it out where it had gotten too snug around her crotch. She sniffed her hands. Then, pooped diaper and all, Lindsey walked gingerly towards the center of the cellblock, out of Lily’s area to clean.

  Lily’s chore continued. A rectangle that is fifteen cell blocks long is large, but not large enough to occupy her and her mop for an hour. To use up more time, she offered to mop the cells of inmates in that area. She didn’t go in any that were empty. Most waved her off or pretended not to hear her at her door. Some she avoided because she already knew the answer of the occupant inside. Some were asleep. But a few stepped out of their cells so she could clean the small floor that they nominally called their own.

  One of those women was Kimmi. Lily came across her, mop and bucket in hand, while she was kneeling on her pillow, which was placed on the floor. She was bent over a deck of cards that she had splayed out on her cot. The international card game of prisons…even diaper prisons: solitaire.

  “Yeah sure, though it’s the air that’s dirty,” she said. Kimmi laughed and hauled herself up. She pushed past Lily, and she crinkled as she went. Lily’s nose rankled, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “Don’t worry,” Kimmi said. “The bitch is on the dock.” Lily took this to refer to Kimmi’s cellmate, Rita. She didn’t need any reference to know what Kimmi meant by the dock.

  “Hope it hurts,” Lily said. Kimmi laughed again and nodded in agreement.

  Kimmi stood by as Lily mopped. The cells weren’t big enough for it to take too long, but Lily took her time. Why not take her time? Kimmi talked to her as she cleaned, despite the rule forbidding inmate job-conversation going both ways. Despite her soiled diaper, Kimmi had bubbling energy inside her, and she seemed to hum to a rhythm whenever she was silent.

  “I hear you got a whole hell coming to you,” Kimmi said, bobbing her head.

  Lily wasn’t surprised the word had already gotten to Kimmi. You’ll be fine. Just fine. A few docks is better than a lot. Four docks in a row is not a lot. Argue and you’ll get five, so shut up. “It won’t be so bad,” she said.

  “They going to break you up?”

  Lily hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know,” she said.

  “That’d be a bummer. Luckiest thing in this whole place finally coming to an end. You two have been bumping it forever.” Kimmi said. Then she opened her arms to envelope some of the bars that formed the open wall of her cell. “Come to mine,” she said.

  The notion that Lily had a choice of what cell the guards put her in made them both laugh. The comment had more meaning than a simple joke, but for now Lily preferred to treat Kimmi’s absurdity as simply that.

  “Come on. I only stink up the room to get back at Rita. You should hear her! It doesn’t stop at lights-out.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “She’ll be writing a whole slam book on me, you can be sure of it. She’s going to make a series about her awful cellmate.” Kimmi laughed again. “I can’t wait to read it.”

  Lily bent low to mop under Rita’s cot. Part of her wanted to rung the sodden head of her mop onto Rita’s bed. To leave a dirty and soapy mess so that Rita had nowhere to rest on her way back from the dock. But she thought better of it. She was in deep enough trouble as it was.

  “So, what do you think about rooming with me?” Kimmi asked, again.

  “I’m still rooming with Marji.”

  “Yeah but not for long.”

  “We'll still be together.”

  “Really?” Kimmi said. She narrowed her eyes as the true thrust of the conversation was laid bare. “They’ll be watching you.” Kimmy leaned against the bars and stared at Lily. Lily became hyper aware of her own contours under her orange jumpsuit. She’d never thought she’d be sexy again, though this concern didn’t arise until weeks after actually being put in diapers. In retrospect, it would have been wise to get some action when they still let her wear panties. One of her greatest regrets. There had been more important worries back then, though as a lawyer, she should have foreseen where it would all end up. Now her pussy didn’t know or had forgotten that she was in prison. Her pussy was the one that made her look forward to diaper changes not just so she could get out of the diaper she was wearing, but so that she could see the bodies of the other women without their jumpsuits and their own thick diapers. It could be a gruesome sight, at times, but you could always close your eyes for the beginning and just look when the woman’s bottom was cleaner. Most diapers weren’t like that anyway. It was a weird, discordant feeling, to be aroused in a place like a changing area. But it made a sick, twisted sense; her pussy had adapted to the situation. It’d taken much longer for her to realize that other inmates had accepted the same realities, that they’d learned to ignore the thickness of her ass and crotch, and the garish glare of perpetual orange.

  Her thighs and ass, covered in a diaper that she had been wearing since the morning and forced to move in and pump in as she sweated in her full length suit, hadn’t gotten used to it, like her pussy had. She wanted a change badly, which, conveniently, was what her pussy wanted too.

  Somedays, she wished she could be more like Kimmi. Kimmi was one of those rare few in Stenton who seemed to enjoy her time behind bars. Or at least she was able to tolerate it effortlessly. She’d been cheery from the getgo, quick to joke, quick to to laugh, and quick to stop taking pee and poop so seriously. How could she care what was in her pants? She was a one-changer. The answer to what was in her pants was almost never good. She’d openly estimated that she maybe spent less than an hour a day without piss in her diaper. She even didn’t care to admit to the other women that she was wetting the bed ‘involuntarily’ and that she was ‘definitely wetter when she woke up than when she went to bed.’ Even more, she’d turned a whole breakfast table red with embarrassment when she blurted that ‘masturbation felt better when the front was thick with pee because it gave you firm something to rub against.’ Kimmi could be a hoot around the dock, too. If she was on the benches, watching woman after woman get spanked and paddled on the dock, she’d call and cheer. Kimmi never did it maliciously (as some might be for Rita right now), but always in a way that, if it were you getting spanked, it made you feel better. Lily hated, most of all, that the pillories and the dock were in the very center of the block, but Kimmi made it bearable, provided she was there.

  Oh come on, that one was a little low!

  Swing batter-batter swing!

  Come-on tootsie keep that back straight we gotta see that roast beef. Yes girl!

  Lily likes it doggie doesn’t she? She’s doing a great job!

  Show us what you’ve been hiding in those diapers hun!

  Sometimes she would get other inmates singing so that the sounds of the smacking died away, even to the ears of the woman getting hit. Nobody ever minded the raucous atmosphere she could create, save the guards and the occasional women who still thought they could sleep through their sentence. The guards sometimes felt that Kimmi’s irreverence took away from the essentially punitive exercise, and they would cell her for the rest of the day. That only made the average inmate appreciate Kimmi more. Except for the Ritas of the world, of course.

  The inmate cheers were markedly different when it was Rita’s bottom up on the platform called the dock. The mood was a bit more in line with what the guards intended when Rita got spanked.

  So it was fine to be around Kimmi, even when Kimmi smelled like shit. She was the type of inmate that could make you forget there was a bag of piss around your waist and that it’d been years since you’d had a private moment of free access to your own vagina. Moreover, she was the type of gay that wasn’t a gayness of reluctance. Kimmi guessed that up to half of the women in the prison, at least, were willing, but very few were voracious about it. Like Lily, they’d sexualized what was available. The straighter girls relished those few moments on changing tables with male guards, doing everything they could to repress their extreme embarrassment and the awareness that the guard who was seeing her excrement couldn’t possibly find her sexy. They’d whisper to each other about the way he wiped. He lingered. He palmed my butt. Nobody ever had the heart to remind the women of what they already knew themselves. Well, Rita did, and gave everyone yet another reason to hate her. It mattered greatly to the straights what fantasy they could roll their eyes back into when the stiff and pissy diaper on their crotch was pressed into their clit by another female inmate. If they could believe that they were back on that table with strapping officer Sipho, if they could believe that the mouth kissing their breasts through their orange jumpsuit featured his stubbly lips, they could cum. Lily never disabused a straight woman of that fantasy. She knew best to melt away, to simply appreciate the time between her legs, even if she wasn’t thinking about Lily and there was nothing down there but diapers and urine to smell. When their half-assed efforts to help Lily cum in return brought them both to boredom, Lily was fine to leave. The memory and imagination of the straight woman’s genitals beneath all those layers and the memory of her convulsing body, were vivid enough for Lily to pleasure herself alone in her cot.

  But Kimmi meant it. Kimmi reciprocated. Kimmy sought it out and saw her as more than an elaborate vibrator which she could place between her legs while she fantasized about what lay behind the zipper of officer Sipho. Kimmi didn’t become ashamed and refuse to talk to Lily for weeks after one shared moment. She would be eager again and again until the guards hauled them both on the dock. And then some.

  “I think we’ll still be together,” Lily said. “We haven’t talked about it.”

  “What’s she doing?”

  “I don’t know. Probably celled,” she said. Marji had been in an equally bad mood since the guards had caught them on top of eachother yesterday. Knowing Marji, she’d lashed out and was sitting on her cot with a chain around her ankle.

  “Atta girl,” Kimmi said. “I’m not trying to steal her girl, you know,” Kimmi said. At this point, Lily was only pretending to mop.

  “No. I couldn’t imagine a lady with a diaper like yours would attempt to flirt with a catch like me,” Lily said.

  Kimmi laughed again. “Hey. If I waited to be clean to make my moves, my cunt would close up. You gotta know what you’re working with.” With this, Kimmi made a shimmy and showed her bottom to Lily, pressing it against the bars. It was a grotesque thing to do considering what Kimmi’s diaper had inside it, but Kimmi never shied away from the absurd. It was refreshing, even when it made Lily recoil in mock disgust.

  “Oh stop it,” she said. “Hey, your hour is almost up, by the way,” Kimmie said. She motioned to the clock that was high up on the wall at one end of the block. “You on one or two changes today.”

  “I’ve not been changed since just after breakfast.” And didn’t she know it. Her diaper was soaked, and she’d been holding number two since then. A guard had felt her ass right after the end-of-breakfast bell, before her meal had got things moving. She’d discretely pushed as he felt her, but all she managed to do was fart into his hand. It wasn’t atypical timing for a first change, and as a three changer she could expect to get changed in the two or so hours after breakfast. She preferred on the later end of that range, so she could get her movement going and so her first change of the day could be a dirty one. It didn’t always work out that way.

  “When they let you out, let’s get changed together,” Kimmi said.

  She didn’t mention let’s try to get changed together. Sometimes, it was nice to pretend that you had agency.

  Surprisingly, she was dead right. Lily’s diaperchange was all but assured after her chore was done. It was more than an hour after lunch now, and the guards went looking for the threes before and after lunch. Lily was probably one of the last threes to still be wearing her post-breakfast diaper, excluding those who’d been downgraded to twos for discipline. It sure felt like it.

  The ideal day, for Lily, was a late post-breakfast change, a late post-lunch change, and then a post-dinner change, so that she was fresh for lockdown. She rarely got all three in a day, but much of her excess effort was spent trying to orchestrate it. What else was there to do? She’d hide from guards before meals and find them after, when she was fuller. The goal was always to spend as little time as possible in full and dirty diapers.

  She doesn’t need a law degree, she needs diapers. She wondered if her jury thought of that when they considered her guilt. Yes, this woman needs her priorities narrowed down to nothing but a toddler’s mindset. Where to pee and poop most effectively. That’s where this grown woman, who once argued cases before a court, who survived three years of law school, who was about to make partner at just twenty-eight, belonged. That’s what her mind was really good for. Good mopping and good fecal logistics.

  “You just want to see me naked.”

  Kimmi craned her head. “It’s officer Billie at the table,” she said. “At least at the close one.”

  Lily stepped out of the cell with her bucket and mop and looked down the hall. She still knew most of the women sitting in the chairs there. Lindsey was there. The woman who’d tracked mud through her section was there too. She was the one on the table, but from their angle they could only see her large tits bouncing about as the officer Billie raised and lowered her legs.

  Way beyond, she could see the blast doors to the guard quarters. One of the doors creaked open, and a guard came through it and into the cellblock. The door shut lazily behind them, but the hollow slam reverberated all the way down to Kimmi’s cell.

  “Damn,” Lily said, looking at officer Billie.

  Kimmi allowed herself to be distracted by the scene for a few moments. For once, Lily knew Kimmi wasn’t looking at the bare-chested woman. She turned back to Lily. “Well get it done and stick together. You got five minutes so nows your time,” she said.

  She was very likely right. Five minutes left in her hour (which was almost all the time she needed to actually complete the job allotted for an hour), meant she should get to business. She was only relieved when a guard ordered her to bring her bucket and mop to the closet. Generally, a diapercheck would come after that. Lily had planned all along to poop right at the end of her hour. Her early change notwithstanding, and the squicky itchiness she felt right now (which was par for the course after the prosecution nailed her many years ago), today was fixing to be an efficient, reasonable day. The punishments for playing with Marji would not come until tomorrow.

  “Alright,” Lily said, and she headed out of the cell toward the center of the block, where Lindsey had pooped earlier. It also occurred to her that she had spent conspicuously long in Kimmi’s cell, and she was definitely pushing discipline if the guard on the catwalk was paying attention.

  Kimmi put a hand on her shoulder, though. Lily stopped, and watched where Kimmi pointed. “Do it on Rita’s bed,” she said.

  Lily turned. “Noo,” she said. “That’s a little much.”

  “Come on. She won’t notice it over everything else,” Kimmi said, waiving to herself. “Just give her a nice extra flavor to her pillow. You know she deserves it.”

  Kimmi’s suggestion was extreme. It represented a side to Kimmi that Lily had rarely seen. A ferocity and vengefulness that did not coincide with her general cheerfulness. But it still made sense to Lily. Loyalty and camaraderie were the root of Kimmi’s character. It was her and her girls against the bullshit. Rita wasn’t one of them. Rita with her horn-rimmed glasses, who paid the commissary extra to get her hair products, who threatened everyone with a salacious expose, who bragged that when she was out, the world would welcome her eagerly. Many of inmates, despite their lofty origins, knew that nothing waited for them but diapered slavery and middle-class employment. And even the best outcomes were still many, many years down the road.

  She’d even written about Lily. Before Rita had found trouble with the law, Rita made headlines finding out everything she could about other wealthy men and women who’d fallen out of favor with Shamurian society.

  Case Closed! Corrupt lawyer weeps and begs like a helpless lamb as she realizes the law is no longer on her side.

  “She really squirmed when we got her out of court. They’re all very emotional so we understand. But they have to learn quickly that if they fight us, we’ll change them less. We’ll keep that diaper on ice until the morning and she’ll understand what she’s in for.”

  It’d all been true. Rita had gotten to one of those guards and got the quote. Even the story about sitting in that first diaper until the following morning was true.

  At first, Rita’s own fall from grace was celebrated in Stenton. Then they met her, and realized nothing could be worse than having to hear her talk. Rita was the bullshit.

  All of this is to say that yes, Lily leaned her mop against the bars, kicked off her slippers, and squatted right on Rita’s pillow. Here’s what happens when you’re not on our side but you’re inside, you cunt. It was relaxing and delightful, truly. One of the best bowel movements she’d ever had in her entire time at Stenton. A massive relief. Her stomach shrunk an inch in circumference. Officer Billie at the table waiting to deal with it. The rest of the day to relax and play cards and only have to worry about how fast she was pissing herself. Her poop was huge and firm and as disgusting as ever, but she wouldn’t have to be in it long.

  “What the fuck!” came a voice. Lily hadn’t realized she’d opened her eyes.

  “Fuck you,” Kimmi said. Her voice wavered though, and Kimmi seemed to shrink away from the new person standing in the door between the bars of her cell.

  Lily gasped and stumbled off of Rita’s bed.

  “I said the fuck are you doing?” Rita asked, stepping into the room. She was blonde and freckly, and she kept her hair wavy with the product she bought.

  “Nothing,” Lily said.

  “Nothing?” Rita was shouting. Lily was anxious to leave. A guard who arrived had a lot of pretext in the scene that was unfolding. “You were shitting on my pillow.”

  “No she wasn’t,” Kimmi said.

  Rita spun and pointed a finger at Kimmi. Rita’s cheeks were flush, and her eyes were still watery from the spanking she’d taken on the dock. She didn’t deserve any sympathy, but it was hard to imagine her being anything but angry at what she’d returned to. “It was your idea,” she said.

  “It wasn’t my idea because nothing happened!” Kimmi shouted.

  Lily was trying to step between the two, to get her bucket and leave. Kimmi could handle herself. If a guard came now to see this, she was sure to be disciplined. Getting into a fight in a cell when she was supposed to be mopping was way out of line.

  Rita’s bone to pick was clearly with Kimmi, despite the fact that it had been Lily’s action that had enraged her. Lily pushed past them, grabbed her bucket and mop, and exited the cell. Her diaper was incredibly full of piss and poop, and it squished into her as she walked. She was sweating all over now too, and she could feel the oil of her hair on the back of her neck, the moisture down the sides of her hot jumpsuit, and of course, all of the heat generated by the mess she’d made in her diaper. She wanted out of there, to continue making wet circles on the ground until some guard took her to be changed by officer Billie.

  “Stop! Hands on the bars!”

  Lily’s heart sank. She propped her mop in the bucket and did as she was told. She was outside the cell, and she knew the position. Palms open, hands up above the head, feet spread, chest against the bars. She didn’t even see the guard who had ordered her against the bars, but she could hear his boots and that his voice was male. She could also hear that he wasn’t messing around.

  “You two, against the wall, now!” Kimmi and Rita immediately stopped talking and assumed the same position, but against the wall at the back of their cell.

  Lily was anxious for what came next. She heard the guard walking, his boots creaking and the chains and metal hanging from his belt loops were jingling like he was Santa Claus.

  “What happened?” came another guard’s voice. This one was female.

  “Fight.”

  “Physical?”

  “No.”

  “About what?”

  Rita, like an idiot, decided to speak. “They shit on my pillow!”

  “Quiet!” The guards barked at the same time. “Head against the wall,” the female guard said. Lily could see that Rita’s head was against the wall, but the guard continued. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes ma’am!” Rita said.

  “You talk again, I’ll bring you right back to the dock, you hear me?”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “You want that to happen?”

  “No ma’am!”

  Lily could hear the smugness in the voice of the female guard. They enjoyed doing that to inmates. It could go on for minutes. Rita surely hated it, Rita would be scratching a hole through the concrete in rage right about now. Lily couldn’t enjoy the schadenfreude, though. Her’s was coming.

  The guards then talked to themselves. They were so quiet that Lily couldn’t even hear them. Finally, the male guard addressed her. “You, out here,” he said.

  “Yes sir.”

  “What happened just now?”

  Lily gulped. “I was offering to clean cells because I had mopped the main floor, sir,” she said. “I was cleaning this one,” she said.

  “You were cleaning this one?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Whose cell is this?”

  “This is their cell, sir,” she said. She realized that this was vague, so she motioned with her head inwards, towards the two women.

  “Have you defecated in your diaper?” this time the female guard asked.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “When did you defecate in your diaper?”

  “A while ago ma’am, while I was doing my job, ma’am.”

  “When’s your job up?” the female guard said.

  Lily knew this answer could damn her. “Not sure. It might be soon, I might have had another hour. I’m not sure if I’ve been given two hours or not, Ma’am.”

  The male guard spoke to the female one. “She’s up on her chore now, I was about to come get her.”

  They were quiet for a moment. Lily wondered if they were still talking. The guards knew the schedules and goals of their inmates as well as the inmates. The guards knew that inmates would try to time their messing for when they were most likely to be changed. This meant that Lily’s claim to have messed herself a while ago was doubtful to them, and if Lily was lying about that, then Lily was in all likelihood the guilty party.

  Rita was then asked to give them a play-by-play. Contrary to her signature journalistic flourish, Rita was not unlike the blonde prosecutor that had sent Lily here in the first place. Another blonde bitch getting the better of me. Rita knew to tell her story politely, soberly, and with plenty of sir’s and ma’ams so as to be as deferential as possible. She told everything she could. She said I think I saw and I think that to make herself seem more impartial. She might have been screaming at Lily and Kimmi just moments before, but now she ‘wasn’t quite sure what she saw.’

  When Rita was done, the pair of guards returned their attention to Lily. “What do you have to say?”

  “I don’t know sir.”

  “Is she right?”

  “I don’t know sir, I’m not sure what she said, sir.”

  “She said she saw you on her bed, squatting on her pillow.”

  “No sir.”

  “No sir what?”

  “I didn’t do that, ma’am.”

  “Then what were you doing in that cell?”

  “Mopping ma’am.”

  “For ten minutes?”

  They were probably already going to side with Rita for everything, so there were was no use lying further. Lily felt her legs tremble. She tried to maintain her composure. Despite all of the wetness in her jumpsuit, and the piss in her diaper, Lily’s throat was dry.“Yes ma’am.”

  “Were you talking with another inmate while on your job?”

  Answering truthfully also got Kimmi in trouble, but she knew that Kimmi knew that ship had sailed. “Yes ma’am.”

  Lily bit her lip and rested her head against the bars. The day had been going so well…

  This woman doesn’t need a law degree. She needs diapers. Send her where she belongs.

  They’d probably cell her in her dirty diaper until dinner. She was probably looking at a two-change day. They might add an extra visit to the dock next week too. Kimmi would get something similar.

  “Did you lie to us earlier? Did you defecate yourself on that inmates pillow? Be honest now, don’t make us have to ask this stupid question a million times.”

  And then, for reasons Lily didn’t quite understand, she started crying. The tears came out of nowhere, as if they were as incontinent as Kimmi was when she was asleep. She convulsed and her stomach sucked in like she was experiencing the mother of all hiccups. She could see the jury, the prosecutor with the long blonde hair, the lawyer trying to be as nice as possible when she was really tying to say: “You’re fucked beyond belief.” She could feel the dock, which was coming for her ass tomorrow. She could feel the good day she had slipping away. Another good day lost in a sea of lost days, spent mopping and plotting out when she peed and pooped like it was life or death.

  “Yes,” she finally said, not knowing why she said it, and wishing she hadn’t.

  “Yes ma’am?” the guard asked. Her voice was a lot closer. Lily was trained well enough to not move her head.

  “Yes ma’am,” she said. Snot choked her voice.

  She thought about being in this same position, against a wall, side by side with Marji. Just yesterday. Different officers, different violations, different cells. Same awful outcome.

  “You defecated on her pillow?”

  “Yes ma’am!” she said. Tears were getting into her mouth and sticking her hair to her cheeks. Was she one of the bad ladies now, one of the idiots who couldn’t avoid the dock?

  “You lied to us, why?”

  “Because I didn’t want to get in trouble,” Lily said. She felt like such a child saying that. That was the guard’s whole point. “Ma’am.” She wanted to wipe her eyes, but she knew she had to keep her hands on the bars.

  “You happy you’re in trouble now though?”

  Always, always, guards asked questions like that. Just like in court. Lily is eager to get this next phase of her life underway, so that she can learn from her mistakes. Yes, I’m looking forward to my docking. I love my diapers. I love them so much because they remind me of who I am.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Say it!”

  “I’m happy I’m in trouble, ma’am,” she said. She broke down again, and coughed.

  She could hear the guard stand up. She expected one of them to grab her arm and pull her, and her full diaper, back to her cell for the rest of the day. But that isn’t what happened. Not exactly. Instead, the two guards talked quietly for the final time.

  “Take her through the doors,” the female guard said.

[D503]

Great series. Can't wait for the next chapter. I wonder how one and two-changers avoid a rash?

[afictionalphile]

Hey, thank you so much for the feedback and kind words. I'm enjoying this series quite a bit too XD.

As for rashes, two and one changers are expected to be in frequent discomfort. Due to the severity of their crimes, there can be no leniency for the duration of their punishment and incarceration. Thankfully, the emphasis on prolonged adult diaper wear by the Shamurian penal system has resulted in the development of advanced skin remedies and products, many of which are now used in facilities like Stentonville Prison. While all prisoners in diaper punishment report occasional itchiness and rawness, incidents of infection and lesioning are extremely rare even for one-changers. These data do not even account for inmates over-reporting their symptoms so as to receive special benefits by prison doctors.

[D503]

Thanks, nice. I wonder what stops them from doing a quick untaping and airing out? I guess they're frequently watched, they'd have to remove their jumpsuit (not sure if locked or tricky with back zip), the tapes are one-stick or there are other signs of obvious tampering.

[afictionalphile]

Hey! I probably should make that clearer in the story. 

The uniforms that diaper prisoners are issued have zippers up the spine that end in a small padlock. They are also frequently watched, though the guards and cameras can't be everywhere at once. 

[snowwhite]

I hope you like an honest opinion!

1. your writing style is extremely hard to read!
Your storyboard (idea) implementation, is unfortunately not so good.
exemple
 ... what do you want your dock to be?
changing table?
whipping bench?

2. You mercilessly cross Lily's thoughts with the plot and sequences without appropriate paragraphs!

3. I love it when a story has a plot, but you drag it out, unnecessarily and then with incomprehensible expressions like "dock" or are they sitting on chairs around a changing table or on a bench?

4. Then all the word repetitions, it is enough to mention once how often who is changed, but then to call the prisoners as one changer, two changers, etc. is annoying.

5. your biggest mistake is...

You should reconsider your statement about your story!!!

It is not okay that you want to dictate something to someone!

I live and represent BDSM, I know how to handle it.

Beginners or people who think "the story of O" or "50 shades of grey" or "The secretary", is real BDSM life, should keep their hands off BDSM!

Likewise people who watch BDSM movies on the internet on porn sites!

99% of all already make the first mistake with the safe word!
No Dom would ever remind a sub (her or his ) of the safe word again! It is gennant once and that's it.

In conclusion something positive!
I like your story idea

If I may give you a tip, then try never to drag something artificially in the length.
Revise it and it can become a top story.

sorry but that's how it looks and that might also be the reason why you hardly get any feedback.

best wish from bad mad snowwhite

[afictionalphile]

Hi snow white. 

 

Thank you for the feedback. I'm not totally sure I understand all of it, but I definitely appreciate it. I will tinker with the balance of new terms to readers for sure. As for the style...I'm not sure what you mean by "You mercilessly cross Lily's thoughts with the plot and sequences without appropriate paragraphs!"

As for the statement...I'm definitely not sure what you mean. This is an erotic story that is not meant to represent BDSM or anything. I don't think people should be thrown in a diaper prison against their will. That's all I'm saying, lol. I also needed that disclaimer to post this story elsewhere, and I decided to keep it. 

 

Once again, thanks for the feedback!