I knew the risks and I took them, sometimes desperation will push you to do things you’d never do otherwise. Which is why I knew the consequences when my luck finally ran out. I’d been caught stealing, breaking and entering and I’d been caught doing it in the worst possible place.
Susan Redifer.
She was a prominent and influential figure in the new justice system, that she herself had penned. She was a sexual psychologist and everyone thought, because of her appearance, that she was some kind of dominatrix. She had some very disdainful views on men and was often writing papers on the male sexual appetite, and it was her unique view on quelling it, that caused upset among the male population, but unfortunately… her techniques got results. She was often appearing on TV interviews wearing skin tight body suits that accentuated her curvy figure and her large breasts, long straight black hair and sumptuous lips invited lewd comments. Which she took in her stride, attributing her attention to the obscene nature of the men and how their uncontrolled sex drive caused these “outbursts”. It was easy to side with her, after all, was she wrong?
“So Miss Redifer, your new male correctional facility has been a smash hit in the justice system, nearly every inmate has been completely reformed after only 3 months. The results are dazzling!” the interviewer gushed.
Susan would just sit there and smile deviously whilst they showered her in praise.
“But the question on all of our lips is, are you going to be working on a facility for females?” he asked.
I’d noticed this was exactly the kind of question that pissed her off, anyone mentions anything about women getting the same treatment and she loses it.
“Well, just look at the figures. Statistically, most crimes are committed by men! I’m dealing with the most troublesome demographic here, female criminals just aren’t the same kind of problem male ones are.” she stated, factually.
I always hated how she would harp on about how she wanted a world where equality was at the centre of society, and then said sexist bullshit like this, she was a fucking hypocrite. Not that I was perfect, but knowing I was a male criminal just aggravated me even more when her face popped up on TV screens and newspapers heralding her as the end of male criminals. I felt like I was a dying breed, the last of the cowboys in the old west… except I was breaking into peoples houses and taking their stuff.
You have to understand though, I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I don’t have any other choice right now. I was fired from my job because a female co-worker accused me of sexual harassment, which was completely untrue and she knew it, I was about to get her fired for stealing company money and she got in first. They suddenly they wouldn’t hear my case and that was it, blacklisted.
So my life had taken a turn for the worse and I made an error in judgement. One crisp spring evening, I bypassed security on the biggest house in the area and entered into the place. I’d gotten good at this and I’d only take enough to keep myself going… to begin with, but like all things it spiralled out of control. I was getting ambitious and I’d not been caught. This lead to an over-inflated ego which came crashing down when the large house I’d broken into was owned by the very same person I’d see on TV every night. I was literally in the middle of opening a safe when she caught me. I still remember her wearing that nightie that left nothing to the imagination, she was more mad at me ogling her than she was that I broke into her house.
The court was quick to rule in her favour, I was literally caught red handed and she came down with the full force of the justice system she’d made on me. It was rigged, and I upset the rigger. I was to be transferred to her new correctional facility, I’d heard it was more of a ‘prison’, but all I knew for sure, was that it was anything but conventional. I was rushed through some waivers and paperwork since this was a “correctional facility” and not a prison, but it wasn’t worth reading, they already had me, not a lot I could do at this point.
From the minute I arrived, the strong female presence was very noticeable, every guard was female, they all carried batons, had tight black shorts, big black boots and wore blue shirts that hugged their breasts snugly. For someone who respected women so much, it was hard to see how she wasn’t objectifying them with these ridiculous outfits. They looked like strippers. I could see my escort’s nipples poking out as I was lead down through reception! My mind wandered, as hypocritical as it was, maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad if I got to see these girls everyday. As I scanned the place, the few males I saw were either doing maintenance or cleaning work, everyone else was behind bars or in cuffs, there wasn’t a single figure of male authority in sight.
I was marched down several winding corridors and saw a lot of rooms with ominous signs outside them, there was a lot of moaning coming from rooms and hard slapping echoed through the corridors. It sounded like some kind of BDSM club, I passed a “milking” room from which I heard the sound of strained wailing, it sent shivers down my spine. Surely they couldn’t do anything illegal in here? I hadn’t been warned about this place, I hadn’t been informed as to what my punishment would entail and all I knew was that I’d have to spend 3 months here and I was dreading it already.
My sentence felt very light, I mean, 3 months? For real? I should have done 2 or so years for that. That’s what everyone told me, that I deserved worse. But the results of this place spoke for themselves, most prisoners were ‘reformed’ after just a month or two. I really couldn’t believe it.
I was shuffled into an introductory room, lots of posters of the male genitalia were plastered over the walls, some technical diagrams and others looked like propaganda for some vaguely phallic plastic devices. Titles like “control your man” and “put him in his place” were in abundance. The two female guards shut the door behind me and stood next to me, I was already cuffed and it felt like I was about to be beaten-up as well. Sitting at a desk in front of me was the chief of the guards, a tall, buxom woman with jet black hair and the look of someone who had no sense of humour. The name on her desk read “Alice Chun”. She sighed heavily and put down a magazine as she got up from her chair, assuring me that she was much bigger than me in her large black boots.
“Welcome to the Redifer correctional facility inmate, it would appear that Miss Redifer has taken a personal interest in your case, you are to be chastised your entire time here with us.” she said firmly.
“Chastised?” I asked, unsure of what that meant in a place like this.
She nodded to the two female guards by my side and they grasped my arms firmly. She dropped to her knees and for a second I thought I was getting lucky as she dropped my work trousers and underwear.