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Trabbian Justice Jungle Hell

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windar

Teller of Tales
This is the third and final (I promise) installment in the Trabbian Trilogy. If you haven't read the first 2, please do. However, even if you don't, I have provided enough background in the first chapter so that this story can, I hope, stand by itself. I plan to post a chapter each day until the story is done, other obligations permitting.

Barbaria, Eulalia and Dorothy Brown will be featured in prominent roles in this story, though they will not appear until the second chapter. And now, on to the story...



Chapter 1: Priya Returns to Trabbia

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. It was especially noticeable because it was November and had been chilly when she left home. Priya had come through this airport approximately 15 years ago as an undergraduate at Dorsbury College. Back then, when her last name had been Narayan, she had come with her professor, Susan Gelden, and two fellow students, Jennifer Collins and Sarah Motello, for a summer research project excavating the ancient Cheronian ruins at Mongha.

Trabbia had, and still had, a policy of administering severe and brutal corporal punishment to those charged with minor crimes, females included. Priya and her friends had questioned that policy, and, in order to show them its effectiveness, they had been invited to visit a facility where such punishments were administered. The warden, Noba, had allowed them to watch 2 college students, similar to themselves, being caned for possession of a small amount of marijuana. Later, the American students and their professor had found themselves in violation of Trabbian law and been caned and, subsequently, whipped, despite their attempts to get out of punishment by providing sexual favors to various Trabbian officials. While they knew she had been to Trabbia for the archaeology project, neither her husband, parents nor employers, knew about Priya having been flogged there.

In the intervening years, Priya had completed college and medical school and done a residency and become a staff physician in the ER at a hospital near Dorsbury. She had also married a great guy, Sanjay Raman, who remained back in the US, trying to finish a project that was critical to the IT consulting company he ran.

About a year ago, the state where Priya lived had instituted corporal punishment for minor offenses, similar to Trabbia. Burned out by the long hours in the ER, but also remembering the strong feelings that the floggings she had seen and experienced in Trabbia had stimulated, Priya had quit the hospital and taken a job as the Staff Physician at the Female Corporal Punishment Facility in Dorsbury.

In the course of that job, faced with many addicts who had committed crimes, Priya launched a program to divert them for treatment prior to giving them their canings. The preliminary data suggested that this greatly reduced the frequency at which such offenders had to be re-caned for failing the blood test administered as part of the procedure. The Trabbians had heard about Priya’s work and, having their own problems with substance abuse, had invited her to visit and present her findings.

As the taxi made its way through the traffic, Priya admired the modern skyscrapers and lush, well-appointed parks of Pranda. On her previous visit, they had gone straight to the Mongha ruins, intending to explore Pranda on their way home. Instead, after their floggings, they had been taken straight to the airport and put on a plane for Bangkok. Now, Priya had a couple of days at leisure before her meetings with the people from the Ministry of Justice.

The hotel arranged by her hosts was a very luxurious 25-story building. They had arranged a room on an upper floor, with an expansive view of the entire city and the surrounding rain forest. Priya relaxed in the large whirlpool tub and put on some fresh clothes suited to the climate, a sundress and sandals. She checked the various restaurant reviews on-line and chose a well-recommended place nearby that served excellent Trabbian food. It was as quite delicious, savory and rich, leaving a tingling in her mouth. Walking there, she noticed how clean the streets were. “They probably cane people for littering,” she thought.

After that, Priya took the very modern and efficient subway to the National Museum of Antiquities. There was a large display there of artifacts from the ruins at Mongha, which looked quite familiar to Priya. She wondered how many had been dug up by her and her colleagues. She noticed that one of the people credited with arranging the exhibit was her old professor who had taken her here, Susan Gelden. It was strange to think that she was still involved with Trabbia after what had happened. But then Priya thought about the fact that she herself was here.

Back at the hotel, Priya sent Sanjay an email telling him about her arrival and what she had seen, had a quick dinner at a nearby place and fell into bed, tired from the jet lag of the long series of flights to reach Trabbia.

The next morning, Priya decided she would spend the day relaxing, preparing for her meetings with the Trabbians tomorrow. She booked a massage at the hotel spa for 4, then spent the day wandering around the city, buying a few presents for Sanjay and her parents and having another very nice lunch. After that, she took a nap in her room and sent an email to her boss telling him she had arrived and was looking forward to meeting her Trabbian colleagues.

By then it was almost 4, so Priya went down to the hotel spa. The massage was great, probably even better than what she was used to at home. After another excellent dinner near the hotel, Priya slept very well.
 
But in the warm, steamy atmosphere of Trabbia, even the best air-conditioning can't keep a strange, musky hint from her nostrils,
memories flood back, her dreams are filled with a delicious mixture of thrilling terror, pleasurable pain...

(This girl looks forward to having the honour of meeting the administrators of Trabbian justice :devil:)
 
Chapter 2: Priya Visits Mongha Again

The next morning, Priya showered and dressed in a tropical weight jacket and skirt with matching sandals for her meeting with the Trabbian Justice Ministry people. The car they sent was waiting downstairs to whisk her to the Ministry as quickly as one could move in Pranda morning rush hour traffic. The receptionist at the front desk checked her passport and had a guard accompany her to the meeting room. There were approximately a dozen Trabbian officials, a mix of men and women. Priya shook hands with each of them, sure she would never remember who was who, especially since each had just a single name, as is the custom there.

Among the last ones to introduce herself was a woman of indeterminate age, whose name was Noba. Could that possibly be the woman who had been Warden of the Punishment Center where Priya and her friends and teacher had been caned and whipped? She certainly looked as Priya remembered the Warden, though a bit older, but memories were shaky after so many years. As they made eye contact, Priya was pretty sure it was her. She had to swallow hard to remain in control of herself in the presence of this person who had caused her such pain and distress. She didn’t know if Noba remembered her, but Priya imagined that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of women would have passed through the facility in all those years and thought she probably didn’t.

Priya ran through her Power Point presentation on the drug user diversion program, showing the encouraging early results, though stressing they were preliminary. The Trabbians seemed very interested, asking good questions, and seemed satisfied with Priya’s answers. At the end, the man in charge, a doctor like her, suggested that it would be useful for Priya to see an actual working correctional facility so she could advise them how to best apply her program in the field. He indicated that Noba had volunteered to take her to Mongha. Priya was quite nonplused by this, but decided it would be best not to cause a fuss.

Noba had driven down in her own car and offered to drive Priya up. “I need to stop at the hotel and pack my belongings and check out,” Priya told her.

“That will be no problem at all,” Noba replied. “I have set the whole day aside.” They descended to the garage under the Ministry building and got in Noba’s car, a late model Lexus with a deluxe package. As they pulled into traffic that was crawling, Noba turned and looked at Priya. “I can’t help thinking that you look familiar. Did we meet at a conference in the US?”

Priya was very afraid of this woman, but she decided honesty was the best policy. “Raman is my married name. I used to be Priya Narayan and I have been to your facility once before. Twice actually.”

A big smile crossed Noba’s face. “Ah, now I remember. You were with Professor Gelden, you and some other students. I remember enjoying our little party greatly, though maybe you didn’t.”

“No, I did not,” Priya replied. “It was horrible and you were extremely cruel and brutal.”

“Perhaps, and yet, you work now in the same profession as me, more or less. How do you explain that?”

“Yes,” Priya thought, “How do I explain that?” She felt the need to defend herself. “We only give justified punishments authorized by the court. We don’t play games like you did. The goal is to set the offenders on course for a better life as law-abiding citizens, not to abuse them.”

“You are a law-abiding citizen nowadays, are you not?” Noba asked.

“Yes,” Priya responded.

“Well, consider that your experience in my facility may have something to do with that and with your current choice of job. I assume that as a doctor you could work many places, but you chose a correctional facility that canes offenders. That is interesting, I think.” By this point, they had arrived at Priya’s hotel.

Noba turned to Priya and told her, “I understand very well that you have mixed feelings about coming with me. You are under absolutely no obligation, of course. I will wait here for 1 hour. If you come down, we will go to Mongha. If you don’t, I will leave and there will be no hard feelings. But I do think that in your heart you want to go and you will come, despite your fears.”

Priya turned away without a word and got out of the car. On the way up to her room, her mind was in turmoil. Her first thought was panic. She should pack her stuff and head straight to the airport and catch the next flight. On the other hand, she thought she should revisit the site of her suffering and face her fears. And, Priya knew she wanted to see what Noba’s camp looked like again and see the women suffering there. Her pussy was wet at the mere thought. By the time she reached her room, Priya had decided to go. She changed into clothes more appropriate for a visit to a prison in a steamy jungle, shorts and a T shirt and sports sandals.

In the car on the way to Mongha, Noba told her about how the whole area around Mongha had changed, the busloads of tourists, the luxury hotels. “I really would like to see the ruins, since I had a role in uncovering them,” Priya said.

“I will arrange that,” Noba assured her. “By the way, do you remember Dr. Fong?”

“Yes,” Priya replied.

“He worked for several years making improvements to the cream that he put on your wounds. Finally, he left the prison service and started a company to test it and market it. It is used on burn patients and all types of wounds everywhere in Trabbia. Even as an anti-aging medicine. He has found the herbal compounds in it are strong skin growth stimulators. I will tell him you are here and I am sure he will want to meet with you. He has talked about doing clinical trials in the US, so maybe you can help him.”

Glancing out the window, Priya saw a road sign that indicated Mongha was only 25 km away. What would await her there?

As if reading her mind, Noba spoke. “I have been thinking. Normally, I would start by showing you the Punishment Center where we cane minor offenders like the ones you deal with back home. However, you have seen that already and even experienced the cane, so there is little to be learned by a repeat visit.” Priya nodded. She had little desire to revisit that place again. “What I would propose, then, is that I show you around the Prison Camp, where we deal with women convicted of more serious crimes serving sentences of several months to several years or even life. How does that sound?”

Priya struggled to imagine a place more hellish than the one she had passed through, but Noba had a way of taking control, so she didn’t argue. It wasn’t long before they came to a high fence topped with barbed wire, which they drove alongside until they came to a gate manned by a guard, who immediately waved them through. After a short trip down a dirt road, they arrived at a clearing in the forest.

There Priya saw a stunning site-approximately 50 women, barefoot, wearing blue shorts and orange T shirts. Some of the women were hacking away at the brush with machetes, while others were digging holes with shovels. Some were stacking trees and branches they had felled in carts. It was 3 PM, the hottest part of the day, and, with the tree cover gone, the sun was beating down mercilessly on the women. Yet, despite the heat, the women, or at least most of them, were working very diligently.

Noba stopped the car. Priya got out to survey the scene. She found that just standing in the unrelenting sun for even a minute caused sweat to break out on her forehead and under her arms. She tried to imagine what it would be like to spend all day toiling under these conditions, but couldn’t. “You might prefer to stay in the car with the A/C on. It’s frightfully hot out there this time of day,” Noba suggested. Priya got back in.

“They are clearing brush for the new casino and spa resort that will be built here,” Noba explained. “In a couple of years, rich tourists from all over the world will enjoy themselves here and stimulate our economy without even knowing who prepared the ground. Of course, a crew of men with bulldozers and chain saws would be quicker, but I was able to underbid them, because I don’t pay these women a penny. Also, Trabbia has committed to green targets and these women have almost no carbon footprint.” Noba roared with laughter; Priya thought it wise to join in.

“But there is no one watching them. How do you make sure they work?” Priya asked.

“Well, it’s very simple,” Noba replied, “They have a quota and if they don’t meet it, they are flogged.” Priya had to agree that seemed efficient.

“But what about those two?” Priya asked, pointing at two women who were sitting on the ground.

“Those two? They are two of the laziest sluts who ever lived,” Noba replied. “One is the wife of a corrupt official, who was executed for stealing government funds. Since she lived the high life off his crimes, she was given 10 years here. The other was a corporate executive who embezzled from the company. She was also given 10 years. If you’d like, you can watch them both get flogged before dinner.” Priya thought that might be informative.

“May I ask why the prisoners are not naked?” Priya inquired. “In this heat they must sweat right through their clothes in a few minutes.”

“That is true,” the warden answered. “Originally, we had them work naked, but they can be seen through the fences and the local women complained their husbands were spending too much time watching the prisoners, so we had to have them wear shirts and shorts, even though these sluts would be happier naked.

Priya nodded. Then, she noticed something interesting to the left of the Warden’s car. “Who are those 3 Western-looking women?”

“Ah, yes, those are an American, Barbara Moore and two Brits, Eulalia Cross and Dorothy Brown. They got in some legal trouble, though actually they are good workers here. It might be interesting for you to talk with them and hear their stories. In the meantime, I think we should retire to my villa, where you will be staying. We can have a nice swim and relax by the pool. My cook makes a great mojito.” With that Noba turned the car around and drove out the gate.
 
"Priya knew she wanted to see what Noba’s camp looked like again and see the women suffering there. Her pussy was wet at the mere thought. By the time she reached her room, Priya had decided to go. She changed into clothes more appropriate for a visit to a prison in a steamy jungle, shorts and a T shirt and sports sandals"

Great episode ... I think Priya likes this ...

Great writing windar!!!!!! :)
 
Priya is going to get flogged again by that nasty Noba.
Noba is one of those females who is half man,so she
can be very cruel, Poor Priya, i hope she has a soft
cushion to sit on.

Great part my love,i am hanging on to every word.
when my turn comes can you set up a reader i can
see while receiving my strokes, then i won`t fall
behind with my reading
 
when my turn comes can you set up a reader i can
see while receiving my strokes,

Before you are whipped, you will have some other nasty things happen to you, starting in Chapter 4 and continuing. Just watch the thread and don't miss any chapters. Or else...
Great episode ... I think Priya likes this ...

Great writing windar!!!!!! :)

She likes it and hates it, both, I think.
 
Before you are whipped, you will have some other nasty things happen to you, starting in Chapter 4 and continuing. Just watch the thread and don't miss any chapters. Or else...


She likes it and hates it, both, I think.
Are the nasty things sexual, i thrive on that.
Every time he pushes in the cane reddens my bum.
the faster he get`s the cane has to keep up,
don`t have me sucking him though,with all
that pain i might bite his cock and that will
never do.
 
They got in some legal trouble, though actually they are good workers here.
Oh yes, given the right discipline and training,
we western girls can be turned into the best of slaves -
well, some of us can - others have an obstreperous streak,
or only work really hard when there's a man pumping them! :devil:
 
Oh yes, given the right discipline and training,
we western girls can be turned into the best of slaves -
well, some of us can - others have an obstreperous streak,
or only work really hard when there's a man pumping them! :devil:
Oh yes, given the right discipline and training,
we western girls can be turned into the best of slaves -
well, some of us can - others have an obstreperous streak,
or only work really hard when there's a man pumping them! :devil:

If She Works Too Hard He Will CUM,
Before She Does, and you know how soon
he loses interest then,don`t you girls.
 
Oh yes, given the right discipline and training,
No problem
others have an obstreperous streak,
Got anyone in mind? Like yourself, perhaps?
or only work really hard when there's a man pumping them!
Shall we call for volunteers?
If She Works Too Hard He Will CUM,
Before She Does, and you know how soon
he loses interest then,don`t you girls.
That's only temporary dear.
 
Oh yes, given the right discipline and training,
we western girls can be turned into the best of slaves -
well, some of us can - others have an obstreperous streak,
or only work really hard when there's a man pumping them! :devil:

Gee Dottie. You don't think Eul is referring here to you and me, do you? :rolleyes:
 
Well in lot`s of ways we are slaves to men Barbaria
my husband knows just how to work me when he
want`s something,and i always fall for it

Well let's brace ourselves for the Prison Camp girls. I think Windar may have a lot in store for us, beginning with episode 3. ;)
 
Chapter 3: Priya Watches a Couple of Floggings

Refreshed and cool after poolside cocktails and a swim, Priya, dressed in a short skirt, a low cut sleeveless top and sandals, accompanied Warden Noba back to the prison camp. This time, Noba drove to the main assembly area, an open plot of ground surrounded by some barracks and a mess hall. In the center of the dirt area were 2 thick posts made of dense tropical wood, about 8 feet high and sunk deep into concrete, with leather cuffs hanging from a sturdy chain attached near the top of the post.

“I see we are just in time for evening assembly,” Noba said. They watched from the car as the prisoners came down the dirt road, in small groups, moving slowly, barefoot, their clothes soaked with sweat, their hair matted, their heads bowed with exhaustion. They filed into the staging area and arranged themselves haltingly in rows facing the 2 posts. “We should get out for a better view,” Noba suggested. “It’s cooler now anyway.” They got out and Priya followed Noba to a place near the posts.

Once the prisoners were lined up, one of the male guards began a speech, which Noba translated for Priya. “This camp only works if everyone works. Laziness and sloth cannot be tolerated. Some of you have not put forth sufficient effort today and you must be punished.” He called two names and, with obvious reluctance, two women stepped forward. Priya realized they were the two who had been sitting in the field, the wife of the crooked politician and the embezzler. “He’s giving them 3 dozen lashes for the miserable work they did today. I think he may be a bit soft, but I allow my staff leeway,” Noba said. Priya just nodded.

The women stripped off their T shirts and walked slowly to the posts, clad only in shorts, each accompanied by a guard. The guards raised the women’s arms over their heads and buckled the cuffs securely around their wrists, then pulled on the chain, stretching the women up on their toes. They went to a gym bag lying in the dirt and each extracted a whip, made of approximately 4 feet of well-oiled leather, with a handle at the thicker end, tapering to a thin point at the other end.

The floggers measured their distance and without further ado, pulled the whips behind them and lashed them forwards onto the backs of the two non-performing prisoners, the leather whistling through the air and resounding on their skin like a gunshot, leaving scarlet lines on the women’s skin. Lash after lash was delivered at approximately 15 second intervals. By the 5th, the women were moaning in despair with the little breath they could suck in between lashes. By the 10th, blood was welling up in several spots and they were howling each time the leather hit home, struggling uselessly to free their wrists from the manacles. Priya felt the wetness flowing in her pussy as she gazed at the brutal spectacle in front of her.

By the 20th lash, the blood was flowing freely down the women’s backs, staining their shorts. Their screams pierced the air. The other prisoners were staring blankly at the two inmates being punished. Priya imagined they were grateful not to be the ones secured to the posts. By the 25th lash, the punished women were too weak to howl. The embezzler’s legs had given way; she just hung there by her wrists, not even moving as the whip cut into her flesh. Priya was in distress as well by this point, having to exercise all her will power to keep her hand from crawling under her skirt to caress her pussy.

By the time the complete dose of 36 lashes had been administered, both women hung motionless from the manacles. Priya breathed a sigh of relief, as she didn’t think she could have restrained her arousal much longer.

“What did you think about that?” Noba asked Priya.

Priya took a deep breath. “It was brutal. They have obviously suffered greatly.” As she said this, she could see the guards unfastening the manacles. Once released, the two flogged women slumped to the ground and lay there motionless. The guards summoned 4 prisoners to pick up the whipped women, one holding the arms and one the legs of each of them. They carried them off the assembly ground to receive whatever medical treatment the prison dispensed. The guard in charge dismissed the assembly and the rest of the prisoners walked in silence to the mess hall for dinner.

“Yes, that is certain. But I think you enjoyed watching them suffer,” Noba said. Priya blushed and turned away. “Let’s go and find those western prisoners so you can hear their viewpoints on life in my prison. She led Priya in the direction of the mess hall.

Inside, the prisoners were sitting at long tables eating in silence. The food looked to be nutritious, if far from gourmet, vegetables, beans, small pieces of what appeared to be fish in a sauce. “We feed our prisoners healthy food, because we need them to have sufficient strength to work,” Noba said. “That may seem extravagant, but it pays off in the long run.”

She led Priya to where the 3 western women were seated together eating greedily, obviously hungry from their labors. “Dorothy, Eulalia, Barbara,” she said, indicating each one, this is Dr. Priya Raman, visiting us from the United States. She works in the prison system there and is here so we can learn from her and she can learn from us. It would be good if she can speak with you because you speak English. After you have eaten, you can find a private spot and tell her your story. No one will disturb you, so you can be totally honest with her.”

The warden continued. “I will go and do some work in my office. When you are done, bring her there and I will take her home.”
 
Oh Priya must get whipped again, well not whipped, caned.
that is more of a turn on for me. Can`t you do a little side show
where Priya stays with Noba for the night,but she can`t stand
it any longer and begs Noba to cane her, Noba has her own
private punishment room in the basement and gives Priya
a caning she will never forget, but she always goes back for
more,she just can`t help herself.
 
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