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Trabbian Justice Jungle Hell

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Chapter 20- The Day After

The cool water of Noba’s swimming pool felt fantastic. Priya’s body still ached all over from the abuse she had suffered, but she could feel herself beginning to heal. “So, you have to tell me, why did you rip up the paper I signed and let me go, Noba?”

“I had no choice. My superiors in the Ministry of Justice value their relationship with your Department back home. If you disappeared, your boss would be calling the people in Pranda and they would have ordered me to release you. You see, you give us cover when the human rights groups complain about us caning prisoners. We just say you guys do it too.”

“Anyway,” Noba continued, “You have served your purpose. You have validated our new business venture.”

“Business venture?” Priya asked.

“Yes. You see you are not the only woman who might be tempted to test herself against extreme suffering. There are others out there. I have placed some discreet ads on some selected websites and we have already received quite a few inquiries. We will offer packages of several days up to a few weeks and, believe it or not, some women will pay quite handsomely to experience what you just did. And of course, they will star at my parties, as you did, and earn us even more.”

Priya was impressed at Noba’s business acumen. “And will you let them go at the end of their contracted time?”

“Of course. We will have to. If word gets around that we don’t honor our agreements, business will dry up.”

“So, given that you had no possibility to keep me, then that torture yesterday was all a game?”

“Well, the others had told you about their experience with electric shocks, so I felt you needed to experience that. I also had a really fantastic orgasm watching you suffer. I deserve some fun don’t I?”

“Well, it was no fun for me. It was awful. Not just the pain, which was horrible, but thinking I had signed away the next 2 years of my life. You are a real bitch, Noba.”

“Aren’t I, though,” Noba replied.

Priya was getting frightened, not sure that even though their contract had expired and Noba had explained the situation, that she wouldn’t find some way to keep her here or at least cause her some more agony. Nevertheless, she pressed on. “What will happen to Barb, Eula and Dorothy?”

“They will stay and complete their sentences as ordered by the courts. That is out of my hands. They are very useful in the new enterprise, since the Western customers will have a better experience if they share it with prisoners of the same culture and language. We may even have to recruit more such long-term prisoners. There are always foolish Western girls trooping through to see the ruins and it’s very easy to get in trouble in Trabbia.”

Priya felt sad about the fate of her comrades, but she didn’t see much she could do to help them. She reached for her laptop and typed a long email to Sanjay, telling him that she loved him and would be home in a few days. She knew that even if the whip scars faded through the effects of Dr. Fong’s cream, it was hard to imagine they wouldn’t be visible by the time she got home. She resolved that she would have a long talk with him and explain everything honestly. If he loved her enough to stay with her, knowing everything, their marriage would be stronger; if not, that would be his choice.

Priya also sent an email to Paul, her boss, telling him she had learned many interesting things about the Trabbian prison system and was looking forward to being back at work soon. She hoped that would protect her from any of Noba’s schemes.

“By the way, Priya, I have invited a guest for dinner and I believe I hear his car pulling up,” Noba said, interrupting Priya’s thoughts.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Priya replied. “I guess I should go get dressed.” In her room, she put on a plain T shirt and a skirt, nothing low cut that would show the wheals on her breasts. When she came down, she had a shock. Sitting on the sofa, having a drink with Noba, was Dr. Fong.

He stood and extended his hand. Not knowing what else to do, Priya took it. “How nice to meet you under somewhat different circumstances,” he said. “Please sit down.” He offered a place on the sofa next to him. Noba brought Priya a glass of white wine.

After a few pleasantries, Fong made his pitch, “You have seen how well my cream works, from personal experience.” Priya nodded. Fong might be a perverted old sadist, but his concoction worked better at wound healing than anything Priya had ever encountered in her medical career.

“We sell over $ 10 million a year here in Trabbia, but if we could get access to the US and Europe, we could sell 100 times that. Of course it’s good for healing scars from the whip and the cane, but the really big market is in healing burns and other injuries and the enormous jackpot, if we can do it, is anti-aging. I want to offer you a job, to be our US representative, to arrange clinical trials.”

Priya was listening carefully as he went on, “How much are you are earning at the prison?” Priya gave him a number that was only a slight exaggeration. He chuckled. “My company will pay you 3 times that. Plus stock options, of course. If things work out, we will do an IPO on the NASDAQ; your shares could be worth many millions. You can hire whatever staff you need. And think how it will help the patients.” Priya couldn’t believe they were discussing business like professional colleagues after he had bought her body for sex and flogged her breasts, but here they were.

He turned to Noba. “Of course, to enter the US market, we will need a large plantation to grow the herbs and berries that go into it.”

“That can be arranged, of course,” Noba replied. “I have a ready labor source, as you know.” She and Fong laughed uproariously.

“So, Priya, are you interested?” Fong asked turning back to her.

“It’s tempting and I will certainly think about it.”

“I will have a written offer in your email by the time you arrive home,” Fong said. “One additional thing you should keep in mind is that this job would bring you to Trabbia a few times a year for meetings.” He smiled.

Noba smiled. Priya smiled.
 
That's a nice move, Windar.

I thought Priya was in for the long haul, then goes back to USA to help set up a tough labour camp/chain gang system again with the 3 girls as assistants.

Good job we all have different ideas.

I know a bit about herbs and berries, do you think Noba and the doc would need a horticulturalist to supervise the girls, and help correct their mistakes?
 
I have taken all your suggestions under advisement and written a final chapter, which I will post tomorrow.

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."
 
windar said:
I have taken all your suggestions under advisement and written a final chapter, which I will post tomorrow.

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."
Click to expand...
Trump's closing song at the Republican Convention... Really!!!:doh::devil::cool:
 
windar said:
I have taken all your suggestions under advisement and written a final chapter, which I will post tomorrow.

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."
Click to expand...

I don't mind staying on as translator slavegirl -
there's always the possibility that I might pick up some sensitive secret information
(and then get tortured by the Trabbian Security Agency
to extract what I know :eek: :devil:)
 
Epilog: 6 Months Later

The heat and humidity hit Priya Raman hard as she exited the air-conditioned terminal of Pranda International Airport to get the airport bus to take her to her hotel in downtown Pranda, the capital of Trabbia. As Vice President of Medical Affairs for Trabco Pharmaceuticals, she had been working hard for the past 6 months to get clinical sites on board to test Dr. Fong’s skin-healing cream. She had several burn centers ready to test it on burn patients and her old Department of Corrections lined up to test it on offenders who had been caned. Once the toxicology studies were done, and the preliminary results looked excellent, the studies would begin. Several investment banks were jockeying to handle the IPO, assuming the initial results were promising. At the prices they were considering offering the shares, Priya’s options would be worth somewhere near $10 million.

Her conversation with Sanjay had gone better than she could have hoped. She had explained her strange fixation on watching girls being punished and being punished herself. Instead of rejecting her as sick, he told her he loved her even more for sharing that and began researching the subject on-line. They had even played some spanking games. Of course, Sanjay wasn’t willing to hit Priya anywhere near as hard as Trabbian floggers did, but she couldn’t possibly expect him to. It was nice that he was willing to try, though. She had enlisted his company to set up the Trabco US web site and to put in place the secure system to manage the clinical trials, which he had, of course, done superbly.

Priya’s reverie was interrupted by her arrival at the hotel. After check-in, Priya booked some time in the spa to relax and get the kinks out from the long flight and prepare for her meetings tomorrow with Fong and the rest of the company staff next day.

The meetings went well; everyone was pleased with the progress on the trials. Priya particularly enjoyed meeting the British horticulturalist they had hired to supervise the planting of the critical herbs and bushes. When he suggested that Priya accompany him the next day to Mongha to look at the set-up of the plantations and make sure they would meet FDA regulations, she jumped at the chance.

Entering the prison complex where she had suffered so much pain and degradation gave Priya a shiver of fear. It also made her very wet, something she had prepared for by sticking a menstrual pad in her panties even though it wasn’t her period. There were the crews of women, Trabbian and foreign, clearing jungle under the blazing sun, while others were hoeing and planting the seedlings that would grow into the sources for the miracle cream.

But her old crewmates, Eulalia, Dorothy and Barbara were not among them. Priya had not forgotten them and their unjust imprisonment. As a condition of taking the job, she had demanded that they be freed. When that had turned out to be impossible, due to their court-ordered sentences, a compromise had been arranged. While they would remain in the prison camp to complete their sentences, they would no longer have to slave in the fields and be whipped for missing quota. Rather, they would be group leaders, supervising teams of masochistic foreign women who were actually paying to come here and be slaves and suffer floggings and other horrible punishments for missing quotas. Noba liked this because instead of hiring more guards to supervise the additional prisoners, she was getting these services for free. And, unlike too many of the local guards, Eula, Doro and Barb wouldn’t give the prisoners a lesser quota in exchange for blow jobs.

Priya got out of the car and hugged Barb, Dorothy and Eulalia, each in turn. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said.

“Thank you for helping us,” Barb said.

“I couldn’t forget my sisters in suffering,” Priya replied. “Can we have a tour and see how the planting is going?”

“Of course,” Eulalia replied. “Follow me.”

It was clear as they walked around the fields that the operation was running smoothly. Every prisoner and foreign visitor had her patch to clear and was laboring diligently, though two of them looked to be making sub-par progress. When the horticulturalist asked about them, Dorothy replied, “Don’t worry, those useless sluts are new and don’t know what they are doing. Of course, they will be flogged before dinner. Will you guys stick around to see it?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” the horticulturist answered.

“Nor would I,” Priya added. “But first, we have to meet with Warden Noba. We will see you at the evening assembly, I guess.”

When they were ushered into Noba’s office, Priya felt a shiver of fear and arousal. This was where she had suffered shocks to her most sensitive places, agony so severe that she had been willing to sign her freedom away to make them stop. Yet, Noba shook hands as though they were ordinary colleagues. They spent a couple of hours discussing plans, timelines and budgets for the plantation.

As the meeting was winding down, a horn sounded 3 times. “It’s time for evening assembly. I believe there are a couple of foreign visitors due floggings for poor performance. I’m guessing you both want to see that.” Priya and the horticulturalist both nodded eagerly. “Well, shall we, then?”

They walked out onto the assembly ground just in time to see the women filing in, barefoot in shorts and T shirts, weary after a hard day’s labor, forming themselves into rows facing the posts where Priya and her teammates had suffered. They went and stood near the posts, next to Eulalia, Barb and Dorothy. Eulalia called two names and two women stepped forward, one blond and thin with a Scandinavian name though she could have been American or Canadian, and one with black hair with a name that sounded Japanese. “You two useless cows have totally failed to do your jobs. Your miserable efforts have earned you two dozen lashes each. Strip to the waist. Now!”

The women hurried to remove their T shirts, obviously afraid that Eulalia would reconsider and give them even more. Priya thought they both had quite attractive breasts. “Over to the posts, let’s go!” Eulalia ordered. Guards came forward and attached their wrists to the manacles and pulled on the chains, raising them up on their toes. Then, they each took a whip out of the bag and measured their distance.

The flogging was just as Priya remembered, brutal, yet highly arousing. The women struggled wildly against their bindings for the first several lashes, howling and begging for mercy, all to no avail. By the time the first dozen had been administered, blood was visible on their backs, and continued to increase as the remaining lashes were delivered, flowing freely down their backs. By the end, the women hung from the manacles, panting and moaning. By the end, Priya was wet and breathing hard with excitement. She noticed a distinct bulge in the British horticulturalist’s trousers. Finally the women were released and taken to the clinic for treatment.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” Noba said.

“It was certainly quite a spectacle,” the horticulturalist replied. Priya could only nod in agreement.

As they walked towards the car, Noba sidled up next to Priya. “When is your flight?” she asked.

“In two days.”

“If you wish, I could arrange to have you spend tomorrow working in the fields. No charge for you, of course.”

“Would my old teammates have me flogged if I didn’t make quota?” Priya asked.

“I guarantee it,” Noba replied, pulling a contract out of her pocket.

“Do you have a pen?” Priya asked.



Now, in the words of the late, great Jim Morrison:

This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend, the end

Thanks to all the readers who have stuck with this series to the end. Special thanks to those who have made the story better through comments and suggestions.
 
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