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Art
Governor
She does not want make sex with the king.
Well well girl. You got it now. Why have you refuse the wish of our king?
Now after a month's dungeon, you will be tortured very hard. This is what the king wants. This is just the very harmless beginning.
You will so hang until tomorrow. Then comes the royal torturer. The King will personally look on your torture.
May God bless you.
Well well girl. You got it now. Why have you refuse the wish of our king?
Now after a month's dungeon, you will be tortured very hard. This is what the king wants. This is just the very harmless beginning.
You will so hang until tomorrow. Then comes the royal torturer. The King will personally look on your torture.
May God bless you.
Attachments
Art
Governor
Eulalia, thank you. You have interpreted the content as I thought it was. My little tribute to all the strong women.
Art
Governor
"Saturday night fun in a women's prison"
Esteemed guests: Tatjana and Lucy (Two very, very uncooperative prisoners)
Moderation: Mrs. Prison Director
First player: Second Prison Director (Specialist for electricity)
Second Player: First prison guard (Specialist for roundwood and water games)
Esteemed guests: Tatjana and Lucy (Two very, very uncooperative prisoners)
Moderation: Mrs. Prison Director
First player: Second Prison Director (Specialist for electricity)
Second Player: First prison guard (Specialist for roundwood and water games)
Attachments
Cella
Spectator
Oh my! This image begs to have a story behind it! Here's what my fantasies came up with:
Those aren't prison clothes on the ground, observes the sergeant-of-the-guard. So what's this bitch doing in this level at night? How the fuck did she get here?
The girl is frozen in the harsh beams of the guard's flashlights. Her eyes are wide in terror. She's very young and pretty; slender and leggy. Her breasts are pert and perfect. Their nipples erect. They rise and fall with her rapid breathing. Her pubic hair is completely shaven. She stands with her legs apart, revealing her delectable pussy lips. She makes no attempt to cover her nudity, as though she means for her utter nakedness to be observed -- observed very closely. Which is exactly what each of the guards and their sergeant is doing.
"You found her like this? Asks the sergeant-of-the-guard, licking his lips.
A patrol guard responds. "Yes, sergeant. We were making our routine patrol in this level. When we turned the corner, suddenly she was just there, as you see her. Standing in the light. Bare-assed naked, with her clothes on the floor. Fuck me sergeant, but she is a pretty little thing, if I may say so."
"Yes she is. Call the lieutenant. Tell him what we've found and request another detail for back-up."
The sergeant examines the girl closely. She stares back at him, her eyes both betraying her fear as well as a serious intent, whatever that was. As he approaches her she steps back. Yeah! A pretty little cunt like this? What is she here for? Standing in the dark, almost like she was waiting to be found.
The sergeant wonders if she could be one of the party girls brought to the commander's quarters earlier. There was quite an affair going on there. From the style of her shoes and clothes on the floor she wasn't dressed for some sort of covert mission. But, he thought with a sudden grin, maybe she was.
"Get the LT again," he orders to the guard with the radio. "Tell him I recommend going to condition orange . . ."
An intensely bright light suddenly appears from an adjacent corridor, followed by a shock wave then the sound of an explosion blowing through the tunnels of the prison. The guards and the naked girl are thrown off their feet.
"Fuck!" Shouts the sergeant-of-the-guard. "The bitch is a diversion! Get all available guards into sector 7. Now!
The naked girl gets to her feet and immediately runs down the dark tunnel as emergency lights switch on. "Stop!" Shouts the sergeant-of-the-guard. She doesn't. He raises his sidearml and fires several shots, one of which enters the back of her head. A pink mist appears as her brains are blown out the front of her skull. Her lifeless body drops to the floor in a heap.
Pity, thinks the sergeant-of-the-guard. I'd have fancied a piece of that twat during her interrogation.
More shots are heard, and more explosions coming from deep within the bowels of the prison. What the fuck is happening, the sergeant wonders nervously, his ears still ringing from the concussion and sound of the explosion.
Shit! Are there others, he wonders. More diversions like this? His dick gets hard as he imagines other naked, young women wandering around in the dark, waiting to distract the guards from their appointed duties. Yeah, he think to himself, I'll enjoy interrogating these cunts . . .
It's his last thought. A hail of bullets whiz past him, travelling far faster than the sound of their arrival. One of them finds the back of the sergeant's skull.
Last edited:
Sharkman
Governor
What about this? Fun for three - pleasure for two?
Mrs. Director: 'Look, redhead bitch Lucy! First guard is throwing an eye on your slutty body! Give sweet Lucy two more powerful jolts on her bitch tits!'
Lucy: 'Aaaaaiiiihhhhh! ... Pleeeaaaaseeee! Nooiiieeeehhh!'
First guard: 'Yes, Director, Lucy is a hot piece! ... I like struggling red sluts. ... Can I ... play with her tonight?'
Mrs. Director: 'Tonight? No ... first teach this defiant slut Tatjana absolute servile obedience. If you are good, then we will see for your tasks on this proud redhead. You know uncooperative prisoners must be punished.'
Frist guard: 'Do you need prisoner Tatjana for something tomorrow?'
Mrs. Director: 'No, I am sure we will give her some days of leisure. I know your gentle caring skills. She will really need it. And ... I said gentle ... two or three days more recovering doesn't matter. ... Or my arrogant, always innocent Tatjana? ... oh, she is under water again ... cannnot answer!'
Art
Governor
Great story. It is a great art from a picture to create a story. I'm excited. Thanks Marcella.
Cella
Spectator
I need always a story title Marcella.
Use we: Check by the Night-Patrol?
I like:
On Night Patrol
But I wish I would have fleshed the story out just a little bit more. It was an impulse thing to write this. I never expected that you'd want to publish it.
You can make a new post with changes. And i put the new version.
I have she insert in the next Cruxer's Digest. Publishing, perhaps July 2017.
Cella
Spectator
OK. Here it is. Much better, I think!
On Night Patrol
The sound of the heavy footsteps of the level 19, sector 7 guard detail echo down the dark prison corridors as the two guards come close to the end of their assigned post. One more turn, a walk down the last 100-meter corridor, and then they’d retrace their route back to their control point. It was night, but you’d never know it from the pitch-blackness down the long tunnels in this sector of the prison. It was always dark down these corridors. This just happened to be the night watch as far as the world outside was concerned. So many prisoners behind what seemed an endless line of doors. Not physically seen in years, most of them. Very dangerous types, all of them. Rebels, anarchists, malcontents. Some barely human at this point. The guards themselves believed the stories that actual aliens – real, fucking extra-terrestrials -- were kept here too. But no one knew for sure. The inmates’ physical needs were attended to by robotic staff that brought in food and other necessities. And cleaned up the mess when one died. The guards were the last vestige of direct human oversight.
Privates Smith and Jones are each armed with a SIG Sauer P226 automatic chambered for 9-19mm Parabellum jacketed hollow point rounds. Very effective at close range. Both men also carry high-intensity, wide-beam, military-grade flashlights. They cast an intense, white light off the flat surfaces of the corridors that make up the limits of their guard post. Except for the pale LEDs of various monitoring devices and emergency light units mounted on the walls, they’d be surrounded by an inky black, stygian darkness that, without their flashlights, which would be quite terrifying. Neither man expected to see anything other than gray-black prison walls and locked doors on this last leg of their post. What they did see as they rounded the corner to the final corridor caused both guards to stop almost in mid-step in utter shock and disbelief.
“What the fuck!” Shouts Jones as the figure suddenly appears in front of their flashlight beams as they swept the surfaces ahead of them.
“Holy fucking shit man!” Smith chimes in. “D-Do you see what I see.”
“I see it man, but I don’t fucking believe it! Call the sarge! Call him, right fucking now!”
Sergeant-of-the Guard Kane could not make complete sense of his guard’s description of what they’d found. A naked girl? No, it couldn’t be. How was it possible? These two numbnuts were probably spaced-out on something. He’d have ‘em up on charges! Toss their asses in the stockade too! He always had his suspicions about these two!
Kane’s hydrogen-fueled jeep screeched to a halt as he approached the pool of light where his guards stood. “Well, I’ll be fucked,” were the only words out of his mouth.
For indeed, there was naked girl, standing in the harsh glare of flashlights. A real, living, breathing naked girl! Just like his guards reported. And she was beautiful. Awesomely beautiful. A pile of clothes was on the floor by her feet, along with a pair of shoes. Those sure as hell aren’t prison clothes, Sergeant Kane observed. So, what the fucking hell is this bitch doing in this level at night? How the fuck did she get here?
The girl is frozen in the harsh beams of the guard's flashlights. Her eyes are wide in terror. She's very young and pretty; slender and leggy. Her breasts are pert and perfect. Their nipples erect. They rise and fall with her rapid breathing. Her pubic hair is completely shaven. She stands with her legs apart, revealing her delectable pussy lips. She makes no attempt to cover her nakedness, keeping her hands behind her neck, or out to her sides, as though she means for her utter nakedness to be observed – and observed very closely. Which is exactly what each of the guards and their sergeant is doing.
"You found her like this?” Asks Sergeant Kane, absent-mindedly licking his lips.
Smith responds. "Yes, sergeant. We were making our routine patrol in this level. When we turned the corner, suddenly she was just there, as you see her. Standing in the light. Bare-assed naked, with her clothes on the floor. Damn, Sergeant Kane, but she is one pretty little thing, if I may say so."
"Yes, she is,” concurs Kane. “Call the lieutenant. Tell him what we've found and request another detail for back-up." He wondered if his LT would question his sanity.
Sergeant Kane continues to stare at the girl, about 3 meters from him. Her back is nearly against the wall. She’s standing erect, one hand now cupping her boob as the other slips down between her leg as she spreads her pussy lips. She thrusts her hips forward, somewhat awkwardly. Not quite the experienced seductress, is she, Kane observes. So young; only 18 or 19 at most, he figures. Is she crazy?
So, what the fuck is an inexperienced, naked seductress doing deep in the bowels of this prison? Kane examines the girl closely, his eyes going over her body, up and down, his cock getting hard. If she had an actual weapon, it wasn’t obvious. She stares back at him, her eyes both betraying her fear as well as a serious intent, whatever that was. If she had a bomb on her it had to be up her pussy or maybe sewed into her belly. But what point is there in suiciding way back here. And why naked? As Kane approaches her she steps back to the wall and slides away from him. The soldiers’ flashlights follow her. Yeah, a pretty, little cunt like this. What is she here for? Standing in the dark, almost like she was waiting to be found.
The sergeant wonders if she could be one of the party girls brought to the commander's quarters earlier. There was quite an affair going on there. From the style of her shoes and clothes on the floor she wasn't dressed for some sort of covert mission. But, he thought with a sudden grin, maybe she was. After all, she has some pretty serious weapons on display!
But how did she manage to get so deep into the prison, unseen and wearing those shoes and that fuck-me dress. This is a logistical tunnel for the prison with access to the outside. So maybe she got in this way? But still, how many security checks would she have needed to get through? It just seems impossible. Too fucking impossible. Something ain’t fucking right here at all, Kane concludes.
“Hey Sarge, I’m getting lots of radio chatter about naked girls in the tunnels and . . .”
"Get the LT on the radio again," he barks an order to the guard, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Tell him to order condition red and . . ."
An intensely bright light suddenly appears from an adjacent corridor, followed by a shock wave then the sound of an explosion blowing through the tunnels of the prison. The guards and the naked girl are thrown off their feet as heavy dust fills the air. The reports of other explosions reverberate through the walls and hollow corridors of the prison.
"Fuck!" Shouts Sergeant Kane. "The bitch was a diversion! The others too! We’re under attack. Get all available guards into sector 7. Now!”
The naked girl gets to her feet, steading herself. Kane look at her with murderous eyes. She immediately runs down the dark tunnel as emergency lights switch on. "Stop!" Shouts Kane. She doesn't. He raises his sidearm and fires several shots, one of which enters the back of her head. A pink mist appears as a heavy 9mm slug blows away the front of her skull. Blood, brains, and bone fragments spew outward. Her lifeless body drops to the floor in a heap.
Such a pity, thinks Sergeant Kane. I'd have fancied a piece of that twat during her interrogation.
More shots are heard, and more explosions coming from deep within the bowels of the prison. What the fuck is happening? Kane rapidly tries to assess the swiftly deteriorating situation around him, his ears still ringing from the concussion and sound of the explosion.
Shit! How many diversions were there? How many women penetrated the prison? What was the reason, he thinks, as he imagines other naked, young women wandering around in the dark, waiting to distract the guards from their appointed duties? Yeah, he thinks to himself, I'll enjoy interrogating these cunts when this is . . .
It's his last thought. A hail of bullets whiz past him, travelling far faster than the sound of their arrival. One of them finds the back of Sergeant Kane’s skull.
On Night Patrol
The sound of the heavy footsteps of the level 19, sector 7 guard detail echo down the dark prison corridors as the two guards come close to the end of their assigned post. One more turn, a walk down the last 100-meter corridor, and then they’d retrace their route back to their control point. It was night, but you’d never know it from the pitch-blackness down the long tunnels in this sector of the prison. It was always dark down these corridors. This just happened to be the night watch as far as the world outside was concerned. So many prisoners behind what seemed an endless line of doors. Not physically seen in years, most of them. Very dangerous types, all of them. Rebels, anarchists, malcontents. Some barely human at this point. The guards themselves believed the stories that actual aliens – real, fucking extra-terrestrials -- were kept here too. But no one knew for sure. The inmates’ physical needs were attended to by robotic staff that brought in food and other necessities. And cleaned up the mess when one died. The guards were the last vestige of direct human oversight.
Privates Smith and Jones are each armed with a SIG Sauer P226 automatic chambered for 9-19mm Parabellum jacketed hollow point rounds. Very effective at close range. Both men also carry high-intensity, wide-beam, military-grade flashlights. They cast an intense, white light off the flat surfaces of the corridors that make up the limits of their guard post. Except for the pale LEDs of various monitoring devices and emergency light units mounted on the walls, they’d be surrounded by an inky black, stygian darkness that, without their flashlights, which would be quite terrifying. Neither man expected to see anything other than gray-black prison walls and locked doors on this last leg of their post. What they did see as they rounded the corner to the final corridor caused both guards to stop almost in mid-step in utter shock and disbelief.
“What the fuck!” Shouts Jones as the figure suddenly appears in front of their flashlight beams as they swept the surfaces ahead of them.
“Holy fucking shit man!” Smith chimes in. “D-Do you see what I see.”
“I see it man, but I don’t fucking believe it! Call the sarge! Call him, right fucking now!”
Sergeant-of-the Guard Kane could not make complete sense of his guard’s description of what they’d found. A naked girl? No, it couldn’t be. How was it possible? These two numbnuts were probably spaced-out on something. He’d have ‘em up on charges! Toss their asses in the stockade too! He always had his suspicions about these two!
Kane’s hydrogen-fueled jeep screeched to a halt as he approached the pool of light where his guards stood. “Well, I’ll be fucked,” were the only words out of his mouth.
For indeed, there was naked girl, standing in the harsh glare of flashlights. A real, living, breathing naked girl! Just like his guards reported. And she was beautiful. Awesomely beautiful. A pile of clothes was on the floor by her feet, along with a pair of shoes. Those sure as hell aren’t prison clothes, Sergeant Kane observed. So, what the fucking hell is this bitch doing in this level at night? How the fuck did she get here?The girl is frozen in the harsh beams of the guard's flashlights. Her eyes are wide in terror. She's very young and pretty; slender and leggy. Her breasts are pert and perfect. Their nipples erect. They rise and fall with her rapid breathing. Her pubic hair is completely shaven. She stands with her legs apart, revealing her delectable pussy lips. She makes no attempt to cover her nakedness, keeping her hands behind her neck, or out to her sides, as though she means for her utter nakedness to be observed – and observed very closely. Which is exactly what each of the guards and their sergeant is doing.
"You found her like this?” Asks Sergeant Kane, absent-mindedly licking his lips.
Smith responds. "Yes, sergeant. We were making our routine patrol in this level. When we turned the corner, suddenly she was just there, as you see her. Standing in the light. Bare-assed naked, with her clothes on the floor. Damn, Sergeant Kane, but she is one pretty little thing, if I may say so."
"Yes, she is,” concurs Kane. “Call the lieutenant. Tell him what we've found and request another detail for back-up." He wondered if his LT would question his sanity.
Sergeant Kane continues to stare at the girl, about 3 meters from him. Her back is nearly against the wall. She’s standing erect, one hand now cupping her boob as the other slips down between her leg as she spreads her pussy lips. She thrusts her hips forward, somewhat awkwardly. Not quite the experienced seductress, is she, Kane observes. So young; only 18 or 19 at most, he figures. Is she crazy?
So, what the fuck is an inexperienced, naked seductress doing deep in the bowels of this prison? Kane examines the girl closely, his eyes going over her body, up and down, his cock getting hard. If she had an actual weapon, it wasn’t obvious. She stares back at him, her eyes both betraying her fear as well as a serious intent, whatever that was. If she had a bomb on her it had to be up her pussy or maybe sewed into her belly. But what point is there in suiciding way back here. And why naked? As Kane approaches her she steps back to the wall and slides away from him. The soldiers’ flashlights follow her. Yeah, a pretty, little cunt like this. What is she here for? Standing in the dark, almost like she was waiting to be found.
The sergeant wonders if she could be one of the party girls brought to the commander's quarters earlier. There was quite an affair going on there. From the style of her shoes and clothes on the floor she wasn't dressed for some sort of covert mission. But, he thought with a sudden grin, maybe she was. After all, she has some pretty serious weapons on display!
But how did she manage to get so deep into the prison, unseen and wearing those shoes and that fuck-me dress. This is a logistical tunnel for the prison with access to the outside. So maybe she got in this way? But still, how many security checks would she have needed to get through? It just seems impossible. Too fucking impossible. Something ain’t fucking right here at all, Kane concludes.
“Hey Sarge, I’m getting lots of radio chatter about naked girls in the tunnels and . . .”
"Get the LT on the radio again," he barks an order to the guard, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Tell him to order condition red and . . ."
An intensely bright light suddenly appears from an adjacent corridor, followed by a shock wave then the sound of an explosion blowing through the tunnels of the prison. The guards and the naked girl are thrown off their feet as heavy dust fills the air. The reports of other explosions reverberate through the walls and hollow corridors of the prison.
"Fuck!" Shouts Sergeant Kane. "The bitch was a diversion! The others too! We’re under attack. Get all available guards into sector 7. Now!”
The naked girl gets to her feet, steading herself. Kane look at her with murderous eyes. She immediately runs down the dark tunnel as emergency lights switch on. "Stop!" Shouts Kane. She doesn't. He raises his sidearm and fires several shots, one of which enters the back of her head. A pink mist appears as a heavy 9mm slug blows away the front of her skull. Blood, brains, and bone fragments spew outward. Her lifeless body drops to the floor in a heap.
Such a pity, thinks Sergeant Kane. I'd have fancied a piece of that twat during her interrogation.
More shots are heard, and more explosions coming from deep within the bowels of the prison. What the fuck is happening? Kane rapidly tries to assess the swiftly deteriorating situation around him, his ears still ringing from the concussion and sound of the explosion.
Shit! How many diversions were there? How many women penetrated the prison? What was the reason, he thinks, as he imagines other naked, young women wandering around in the dark, waiting to distract the guards from their appointed duties? Yeah, he thinks to himself, I'll enjoy interrogating these cunts when this is . . .
It's his last thought. A hail of bullets whiz past him, travelling far faster than the sound of their arrival. One of them finds the back of Sergeant Kane’s skull.
Last edited:
Done, Marcella.OK. Here it is. Much better, I think!
On Night Patrol
The sound of the heavy footsteps of the level 19, sector 7 guard detail echo down the dark prison corridors as the two guards come close to the end of their assigned post. One more turn, a walk down the last 100-meter corridor, and then they’d retrace their route back to their control point. It was night, but you’d never know it from the pitch-blackness down the long tunnels in this sector of the prison. It was always dark down these corridors. This just happened to be the night watch as far as the world outside was concerned. So many prisoners behind what seemed an endless line of doors. Not physically seen in years, most of them. Very dangerous types, all of them. Rebels, anarchists, malcontents. Some barely human at this point. The guards themselves believed the stories that actual aliens – real, fucking extra-terrestrials -- were kept here too. But no one knew for sure. The inmates’ physical needs were attended to by robotic staff that brought in food and other necessities. And cleaned up the mess when one died. The guards were the last vestige of direct human oversight.
Privates Smith and Jones are each armed with a SIG Sauer P226 automatic chambered for 9-19mm parabellum rounds. Very effective at close range. Both men also carry high-intensity, wide-beam, military-grade flashlights. They cast an intense, white light off the flat surfaces of the corridors that make up the limits of their guard post. Except for the pale LEDs of various monitoring devices and emergency light units mounted on the walls, they’d be surrounded by an inky black, stygian darkness that, without their flashlights, which would be quite terrifying. Neither man expected to see anything other than gray-black prison walls and locked doors on this last leg of their post. What they did see as they rounded the corner to the final corridor caused both guards to stop almost in mid-step in utter shock and disbelief.
“What the fuck!” Shouts Jones as the figure suddenly appears in front of their flashlight beams as they swept the surfaces ahead of them.
“Holy fucking shit man!” Smith chimes in. “D-Do you see what I see.”
“I see it man, but I don’t fucking believe it! Call the sarge! Call him, right fucking now!”
Sergeant-of-the Guard Kane could not make complete sense of his guard’s description of what they’d found. A naked girl? No, it couldn’t be. How was it possible? These two numbnuts were probably spaced-out on something. He’d have ‘em up on charges! Toss their asses in the stockade too! He always had his suspicions about these two!
Kane’s hydrogen-fueled jeep screeched to a halt as he approached the pool of light where his guards stood. “Well, I’ll be fucked,” were the only words out of his mouth.
View attachment 466478 For indeed, there was naked girl, standing in the harsh glare of flashlights. A real, living, breathing naked girl! Just like his guards reported. And she was beautiful. Awesomely beautiful. A pile of clothes was on the floor by her feet, along with a pair of shoes. Those sure as hell aren’t prison clothes, Sergeant Kane observed. So, what the fucking hell is this bitch doing in this level at night? How the fuck did she get here?
The girl is frozen in the harsh beams of the guard's flashlights. Her eyes are wide in terror. She's very young and pretty; slender and leggy. Her breasts are pert and perfect. Their nipples erect. They rise and fall with her rapid breathing. Her pubic hair is completely shaven. She stands with her legs apart, revealing her delectable pussy lips. She makes no attempt to cover her nakedness, keeping her hands behind her neck, or out to her sides, as though she means for her utter nakedness to be observed – and observed very closely. Which is exactly what each of the guards and their sergeant is doing.
"You found her like this?” Asks Sergeant Kane, absent-mindedly licking his lips.
Smith responds. "Yes, sergeant. We were making our routine patrol in this level. When we turned the corner, suddenly she was just there, as you see her. Standing in the light. Bare-assed naked, with her clothes on the floor. Damn, Sergeant Kane, but she is one pretty little thing, if I may say so."
"Yes, she is,” concurs Kane. “Call the lieutenant. Tell him what we've found and request another detail for back-up." He wondered if his LT would question his sanity.
Sergeant Kane continues to stare at the girl, about 3 meters from him. Her back is nearly against the wall. She’s standing erect, one hand now cupping her boob as the other slips down between her leg as she spreads her pussy lips. She thrusts her hips forward, somewhat awkwardly. Not quite the experienced seductress, is she, Kane observes. So young; only 18 or 19 at most, he figures. Is she crazy?
So, what the fuck is an inexperienced, naked seductress doing deep in the bowels of this prison? Kane examines the girl closely, his eyes going over her body, up and down, his cock getting hard. If she had an actual weapon, it wasn’t obvious. She stares back at him, her eyes both betraying her fear as well as a serious intent, whatever that was. If she had a bomb on her it had to be up her pussy or maybe sewed into her belly. But what point is there in suiciding way back here. And why naked? As Kane approaches her she steps back to the wall and slides away from him. The soldiers’ flashlights follow her. Yeah, a pretty, little cunt like this. What is she here for? Standing in the dark, almost like she was waiting to be found.
The sergeant wonders if she could be one of the party girls brought to the commander's quarters earlier. There was quite an affair going on there. From the style of her shoes and clothes on the floor she wasn't dressed for some sort of covert mission. But, he thought with a sudden grin, maybe she was. After all, she has some pretty serious weapons on display!
But how did she manage to get so deep into the prison, unseen and wearing those shoes and that fuck-me dress. This is a logistical tunnel for the prison with access to the outside. So maybe she got in this way? But still, how many security checks would she have needed to get through? It just seems impossible. Too fucking impossible. Something ain’t fucking right here at all, Kane concludes.
“Hey Sarge, I’m getting lots of radio chatter about naked girls in the tunnels and . . .”
"Get the LT on the radio again," he barks an order to the guard, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Tell him to order condition red and . . ."
An intensely bright light suddenly appears from an adjacent corridor, followed by a shock wave then the sound of an explosion blowing through the tunnels of the prison. The guards and the naked girl are thrown off their feet as heavy dust fills the air. The reports of other explosions reverberate through the walls and hollow corridors of the prison.
"Fuck!" Shouts Sergeant Kane. "The bitch was a diversion! The others too! We’re under attack. Get all available guards into sector 7. Now!”
The naked girl gets to her feet, steading herself. Kane look at her with murderous eyes. She immediately runs down the dark tunnel as emergency lights switch on. "Stop!" Shouts Kane. She doesn't. He raises his sidearm and fires several shots, one of which enters the back of her head. A pink mist appears as a heavy 9mm slug blows away the front of her skull. Blood, brains, and bone fragments spew outward. Her lifeless body drops to the floor in a heap.
Such a pity, thinks Sergeant Kane. I'd have fancied a piece of that twat during her interrogation.
More shots are heard, and more explosions coming from deep within the bowels of the prison. What the fuck is happening? Kane rapidly tries to assess the swiftly deterioration situation around him, his ears still ringing from the concussion and sound of the explosion.
Shit! How many diversions were there? How many women penetrated the prison? What was the reason, he thinks, as he imagines other naked, young women wandering around in the dark, waiting to distract the guards from their appointed duties? Yeah, he thinks to himself, I'll enjoy interrogating these cunts when this is . . .
It's his last thought. A hail of bullets whiz past him, travelling far faster than the sound of their arrival. One of them finds the back of Sergeant Kane’s skull.
Thank you!