Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I'm sure a brand new laptop with ultra-high-speed internet is de rigueur for Death Row in Changi! (as well as 24/7 access to the free expresso bar!)
-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
Imprisonment and Execution in Modern Singapore Part III of Barb's Singapore Saga
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
Migoz2
Senator
Has Jeffrey made sure that Barb has got access to a good library yet?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
"Miss. Moore. Your facility requests have been duly logged and forwarded up the channel to the appropriate authority. You can expect a detailed response within the next two days." - Fuk Yoo Noo - Changi Prison Complex Director of Client Relations.
Dear Fuk Yoo Too,
May I also request a large wall mounted screen with full cable access, and movies on demand, as well as gourmet room service. Please note, I am particularly fond of Riesling wines, although I generally limit myself to two glasses. And while I’m at it, a box of fine chocolates would be nice too.
Migoz2
Senator
You can have one with a desk and a chair, if you ask nicely
Migoz2
Senator
They might be able to arrange for all sorts of service for you in this luxury suite you are expecting
bkcharmer
Executioner
Attachments
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Satu - Singapore, Monday, March 25th, 2019, 5:30 PM
The ride in the “courtesy” van to Changi Prison was a harrowing experience for Barbara Moore. Shackled hand and foot, leashed and collared, and tightly hooded, she was wedged in between two guards in the back of the van, wearing only a brief prison jumpsuit that bared her slim midriff. Breathing the fetid air inside the damp, moldy hood was like being suffocated. The two guards, who had been leaders of her rape and abuse at the Prison, now taunted her with threats of how much more they would torment her now that she was convicted. They probed, stroked, and molested her body nonstop on the drive...
Barbara struggled to endure these additional humiliations and terrors for the eighteen minutes until the van pulled up at Changi, the place designated for her new punishment and execution. Her mind raced with fears of what new and even more cruel acts might be perpetrated upon her in the weeks before her barbaric execution was scheduled. The guards unrestrained exploring of her vulnerable body was clearly just a foretaste of the horrors to come. The ride seemed to drag on forever. Were they even taking the direct route? Was it any surprise that she sobbed bitterly?
Barbara felt the van pull inside and come to a stop. The side door opened and the guards manhandled her out onto the pavement and into the building.
“The lovely Miss Moore is back with us,” said the chief guard. A voice came on an intercom, singing the ditty, “Hello Barbra, well hello Barbra, it’s so nice to have you back where you belong.” It broke off into a cackling laugh which was joined enthusiastically by the two guards holding her. “We were informed she would spend the rest of her ‘vacation’ with us,” the intercom voice said with another laugh. “Cell 22, Death Row. Get her settled and then the Commandant wishes to extend a personal welcome. Take her to his playroom. Number 4 position. Then leave her.” As the guards turned her and began leading her away, the voice came back from a distance, “Enjoy your stay in Singapore, Miss Moore!”
“Mamat gets the fun first,” sneered Lim Hua-Upp, the guard to Barb’s right.
“RHIP, my friend,” said the other, Imran Awang. “I’m sure the Major will be quick to share later.” Barbara heard both laugh evilly.
She was taken through a doorway and down several halls with checkpoints at heavy-sounding doors. At each one, another voice gave them permission to proceed while several made obscene comments. At last, they went down a short hall and she was turned to the side.
“Home, Sweet Home, pig,” said Imran. A door before her opened and she was drawn in. Thankfully, her hood was removed and Barbara breathed the first fresh air in half an hour.
Blinking at the cell through eyes accustomed to the darkness, Barb saw it was very similar to her last cell in Changi, though slightly smaller. The space was empty, except for a thin mat and a threadbare blanket, more the size of a towel, on the floor in the corner, and a steel washstand and commode. The cell was grey and windowless, clean but with a terribly forbidding atmosphere, all surfaces hard with no softness anywhere.
The guards removed her shackles and chains, but left her leash and collar in place. She was told to strip off her orange jumpsuit. Resented their lewd behavior in the van and regaining some of her natural resistance, Barb stood defiant. Lim whipped his hard truncheon into her right kidney. Barbara collapsed to her knees, grasping her flank in agony.
“Obedience must be instant, said Imran in a soft, even voice. On your feet and strip!”
Cowed by the instant brutality of these men when she had hesitated to obey, Barb quickly shed her few garments. As she stood naked before the two men, they took their time admiring her trim, sexy figure. Imran gave her one of the prison shifts, barely more than a burlap sack with arm and neck holes. When Barbara put it on, she realized it was shorter than the one she’d had before, barely covering her pussy and ass. She looked questioningly at Imran.
“The design makes inspection easier. Condemned prisoners are inspected much more frequently and,” he winked, “more thoroughly!” Lim laughed loudly.
“Time to go,” said Imran. “The Commandant wants to welcome you personally in his private quarters. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting!” With that, they cuffed her hands behind her back and hooded Barb again. Now leading her by the leash like an animal, they took her from the cell.
The ride in the “courtesy” van to Changi Prison was a harrowing experience for Barbara Moore. Shackled hand and foot, leashed and collared, and tightly hooded, she was wedged in between two guards in the back of the van, wearing only a brief prison jumpsuit that bared her slim midriff. Breathing the fetid air inside the damp, moldy hood was like being suffocated. The two guards, who had been leaders of her rape and abuse at the Prison, now taunted her with threats of how much more they would torment her now that she was convicted. They probed, stroked, and molested her body nonstop on the drive...
Barbara struggled to endure these additional humiliations and terrors for the eighteen minutes until the van pulled up at Changi, the place designated for her new punishment and execution. Her mind raced with fears of what new and even more cruel acts might be perpetrated upon her in the weeks before her barbaric execution was scheduled. The guards unrestrained exploring of her vulnerable body was clearly just a foretaste of the horrors to come. The ride seemed to drag on forever. Were they even taking the direct route? Was it any surprise that she sobbed bitterly?
Barbara felt the van pull inside and come to a stop. The side door opened and the guards manhandled her out onto the pavement and into the building.
“The lovely Miss Moore is back with us,” said the chief guard. A voice came on an intercom, singing the ditty, “Hello Barbra, well hello Barbra, it’s so nice to have you back where you belong.” It broke off into a cackling laugh which was joined enthusiastically by the two guards holding her. “We were informed she would spend the rest of her ‘vacation’ with us,” the intercom voice said with another laugh. “Cell 22, Death Row. Get her settled and then the Commandant wishes to extend a personal welcome. Take her to his playroom. Number 4 position. Then leave her.” As the guards turned her and began leading her away, the voice came back from a distance, “Enjoy your stay in Singapore, Miss Moore!”
“Mamat gets the fun first,” sneered Lim Hua-Upp, the guard to Barb’s right.
“RHIP, my friend,” said the other, Imran Awang. “I’m sure the Major will be quick to share later.” Barbara heard both laugh evilly.
She was taken through a doorway and down several halls with checkpoints at heavy-sounding doors. At each one, another voice gave them permission to proceed while several made obscene comments. At last, they went down a short hall and she was turned to the side.
“Home, Sweet Home, pig,” said Imran. A door before her opened and she was drawn in. Thankfully, her hood was removed and Barbara breathed the first fresh air in half an hour.
Blinking at the cell through eyes accustomed to the darkness, Barb saw it was very similar to her last cell in Changi, though slightly smaller. The space was empty, except for a thin mat and a threadbare blanket, more the size of a towel, on the floor in the corner, and a steel washstand and commode. The cell was grey and windowless, clean but with a terribly forbidding atmosphere, all surfaces hard with no softness anywhere.
The guards removed her shackles and chains, but left her leash and collar in place. She was told to strip off her orange jumpsuit. Resented their lewd behavior in the van and regaining some of her natural resistance, Barb stood defiant. Lim whipped his hard truncheon into her right kidney. Barbara collapsed to her knees, grasping her flank in agony.
“Obedience must be instant, said Imran in a soft, even voice. On your feet and strip!”
Cowed by the instant brutality of these men when she had hesitated to obey, Barb quickly shed her few garments. As she stood naked before the two men, they took their time admiring her trim, sexy figure. Imran gave her one of the prison shifts, barely more than a burlap sack with arm and neck holes. When Barbara put it on, she realized it was shorter than the one she’d had before, barely covering her pussy and ass. She looked questioningly at Imran.
“The design makes inspection easier. Condemned prisoners are inspected much more frequently and,” he winked, “more thoroughly!” Lim laughed loudly.
“Time to go,” said Imran. “The Commandant wants to welcome you personally in his private quarters. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting!” With that, they cuffed her hands behind her back and hooded Barb again. Now leading her by the leash like an animal, they took her from the cell.
Last edited by a moderator:
I’m wondering apprehensively what “position 4” might be? For that matter, what about positions one through three? I’m also thinking that “Hello Dolly” is an awfully old song for the prison Chief to parody at my expense. What kind of .... oh never mind. Think better thoughts. Surely there must be someway I can make my cell seem a bit Moore homey. If I get a pencil, perhaps I can draw a window on the wall.
twonines
LIMERICUS
You would do better conserving your energy,between PrPr and Windar you have a pretty taxing few weeks to contend with. Good Luck !
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Sorry for the delay in posting and the short post. I'm getting behind and it was hard to get this to come out right.
BTW - it has been bought to my attention that there may be woefully ignorant readers who cannot count in Malay! The first new episode was Satu, meaning 1. I will place the count number in paratheses in the future to help you keep up as you move your lips while reading!
Dua(2) - Commandant’s Quarters, Monday, 6:30 PM
Half an hour later, Barbara was in the Commandant’s private study, waiting for his arrival. Still hooded and cuffed, she had no sense of her surrounding, nor anything to distract her while she waited. It was not a pleasant wait. She was not sitting comfortably in an easy chair. Nor stiff-backed on a hard metal chair. Upon their arrival, the guards had moved Barb to the center of the room and started by attaching iron cuffs to her ankles and then binding these to ropes from two wide-set rings on the floor. They tightened these until her feet were four feet apart and her inner thighs were painfully stretched.
Imran pulled down a chain from a pulley on the ceiling and hooked it to the chain of her handcuffs. Lim went to the wall where the chain was wrapped around an electric winch. He started the winch which wound very slowly, taking up the slack. Soon, the tension forced Barb’s arms upward. She bent forward in an attempt to relieve the stress on her shoulders, only to worsen the stress on her inner thighs. The chain kept going higher and higher. She was bent fully at the hips and her arms raised painfully above her back by the time he stopped the motor. Then, her shift bunched up around her neck, leaving her naked and exposed.
Barb tried to politely object to the painful stress position, but the guards just laughed.
“You are a lucky slut that he didn’t specify #3, or even, #6 – that one is really nasty,” said Imran.
They each gave her a hard slap on the butt and wished her “fun” with the Commandant as they left laughing.
Straining in the awkward, exposed position, her shoulders and thigh muscles screaming with pain, Barbara panted within the suffocating blackness of the hood, dreading what might come next. As time went by, a cold sweat covered her naked body. She felt rivulets run down her dangling breasts and then drop, softly, from the nipples to the floor.
As time stretched, the position became more and more unbearable. However, far worse was the realization of what this position must imply about the Commandant’s plans for her. Tears and sweat ran down her face.
BTW - it has been bought to my attention that there may be woefully ignorant readers who cannot count in Malay! The first new episode was Satu, meaning 1. I will place the count number in paratheses in the future to help you keep up as you move your lips while reading!
Dua(2) - Commandant’s Quarters, Monday, 6:30 PM
Half an hour later, Barbara was in the Commandant’s private study, waiting for his arrival. Still hooded and cuffed, she had no sense of her surrounding, nor anything to distract her while she waited. It was not a pleasant wait. She was not sitting comfortably in an easy chair. Nor stiff-backed on a hard metal chair. Upon their arrival, the guards had moved Barb to the center of the room and started by attaching iron cuffs to her ankles and then binding these to ropes from two wide-set rings on the floor. They tightened these until her feet were four feet apart and her inner thighs were painfully stretched.
Imran pulled down a chain from a pulley on the ceiling and hooked it to the chain of her handcuffs. Lim went to the wall where the chain was wrapped around an electric winch. He started the winch which wound very slowly, taking up the slack. Soon, the tension forced Barb’s arms upward. She bent forward in an attempt to relieve the stress on her shoulders, only to worsen the stress on her inner thighs. The chain kept going higher and higher. She was bent fully at the hips and her arms raised painfully above her back by the time he stopped the motor. Then, her shift bunched up around her neck, leaving her naked and exposed.
Barb tried to politely object to the painful stress position, but the guards just laughed.
“You are a lucky slut that he didn’t specify #3, or even, #6 – that one is really nasty,” said Imran.
They each gave her a hard slap on the butt and wished her “fun” with the Commandant as they left laughing.
Straining in the awkward, exposed position, her shoulders and thigh muscles screaming with pain, Barbara panted within the suffocating blackness of the hood, dreading what might come next. As time went by, a cold sweat covered her naked body. She felt rivulets run down her dangling breasts and then drop, softly, from the nipples to the floor.
As time stretched, the position became more and more unbearable. However, far worse was the realization of what this position must imply about the Commandant’s plans for her. Tears and sweat ran down her face.
So, I’m 5’6”. I decided to try spreading my feet 4 feet and standing. I could do it, but not for long. Very uncomfortable strain!
Kathy
Terra Nova Tramp
You are correct it's very uncomfortable doing so.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Are you factoring in being bent sharply at the waist and your arms pulled tight up from your shoulders?
Somehow, I don't think it was meant to be comfortable.
Tomorrow we will see what the Commandant has in mind for a welcoming party!
Kathy
Terra Nova Tramp
That would add to the pain level.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
You didn't happen to take any selfies doing it, did you? It would help me write true to life!I already figured that in when I conducted my little experiment
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Preferably naked!You didn't happen to take any selfies doing it, did you? It would help me write true to life!