Chapter 2

Harriet and her daughter Georgette tried to make the most of camp life. Harriet began to work out who were the nice guards and who were the sadists. She decided the women guards were to be avoided where possible.

They shared a barrack room with 30 other internees. They each had a two-story bunk each. She insisted Georgette took the top bunk, figuring that she would be safer.

They were roused each morning at 6 am and made to line up in the cold outside for 'muster.' This was followed with breakfast, which was always the same thin porridge, then allowed to have showers.

Curiously, only women guards supervised shower time, Harriet expected some of the more lascivious males to accompany them. She suspected some of the female's sexual proclivities.

After showering the women were given assignments. This could mean the laundry, or sewing uniforms or working in the nearby fields.

The camp was supposed to be self-sufficient and was surrounded by farmland growing a variety of crops, and raising some dairy herds. In reality the camp seemed short of supplies and everything was rationed.

In the afternoon women were taken away in groups for 'punishment.' Eventually all of the internees were to be punished in this way at least once. Additionally extra punishment could be handed out for various indiscretions. These were done mostly on the whim of the camp guards. Therefore, internees soon learnt whom of the guards to avoid.

Surprisingly to Harriet, neither she nor her daughter had been selected for punishment yet. After staring down that dreadful little man of a commandant, she expected punishment straight away, but the call hadn't come. Perhaps she'd bested the man.

During the afternoon she watched the newly punished being returned to the barracks and heard the stories. Some told tales of having been raped by the commandant or his officers or otherwise molested by the guards of either sex. The victims were mostly young and pretty and Harriet felt relieved that she was neither.

She was terrified for her daughter, however, until she found out that only those over 18 were to be so treated. Nevertheless she kept a careful watch over Georgette and determined that she would protect her, no matter what. She hoped they could find a way out before Georgette had to endure that dreadful, humiliating treatment.

Hammond knew that most of the guards had their 'pets.' It was one of the 'perks' of the job, but he tried to discourage too much fraternising. Human nature being what it was, in reality there was little he could do and it wasn't a high priority, anyhow.

'Exchanges' were taking place almost as soon as the camp was set up. The women of the ruling class could suck cock with the best of them and could whore themselves just as well as the ladies of the night. Better treatment, the choice assignments and more food rations could always be swapped for a little 'servicing.'

"I have here a report from your supervisor, Internee Wainwright. She reports that you refused laundry duty on Wednesday. That is a very serious charge. What have you to say for yourself?"

Hammond peered at the 18-year-old, raven-haired beauty in his most stern expression. She looked at her lap, squirming in her seat opposite him.

"Well, speak up?"

"I was too sore... I was caned."

"You can wash clothes standing up," Hammond said, trying to conceal his amusement.

"I'm sorry... I," the girl mumbled.

"It's not good enough," Hammond said, getting to his feet. He picked up his riding crop and began to swish it around, menacingly.

The girl went wide-eyed and her face froze.

"Please don't," she said, pleadingly.

"Please don't what?"

"Beat me... don't hit me again... please."

Hammond stood next to the girl. Putting his hand on the girl's cheek he gently turned her face towards him. Her dark brown eyes looked up at him briefly then flicked away.

"What do you think about me, hmm?" he asked her.

The girl looked confused.

"Hate perhaps, or fear and loathing? Perhaps you think I have a weak moral character? That I take delight in torturing helpless women?"

The girl remained silent.

"I don't like what I sometimes have to do, you know? It's my duty to make good citizens out of you and you must learn discipline. You're sore, I know, but it is nothing to what working class women have had to endure, day by day. I'm a compassionate man, um, what is your name?"

"Isabelle," the girl told him.

"Isabelle, what a nice name. Tell me, how are your injuries?"

"Better... thanks."

"Show me?"

"What?"

"I need to see whether you're fit for work."

"Oh... you're not going to... hit me?"

"That depends on whether you can obey instructions," Hammond told her.

Reluctantly the girl got up and slowly pulled the waistband of her sweatpants away at the back. Hammond peered down, examining the top of her bottom. He could see there was still some welts visible.

Hammond moved in close behind her putting his hands on the girl's shoulders. Lowering his voice, he moved close to her right ear and said,

"More, I want to see all of your injuries."

Isabelle shivered at his touch. Swallowing in fear she slowly lowered the back of her pants to the top of her thighs. Hammond ran his fingertips down over her cheeks causing the girl to tremble. Caressing her cheeks he insinuated a finger into her cleft and pushed it down between her legs to the entrance to her vagina.

The girl gasped at the touch and leant forward towards the desk. She braced herself with her arms.

"Maybe we can work something out," Hammond said into her ear, "it doesn't have to be horrible for you. In fact, it could be mutually... ah, beneficial."

Hammond pushed his finger into her vaginal opening, as if to prove a point.

"I'm sure you have other talents than doing laundry, no?"

The 18-year-old had her eyes closed, she continued to swallow. Hammond took her hand off the desk and put it on the front of his trousers. As the girl opened her eyes he could see they were filled with tears.

"Sit down," he commanded. The girl sat.

"Open my pants," he ordered.

With trembling fingers she attempted to comply. Tears were now streaming from her eyes. She let out a sob.

"Oh now, what's the matter?" Hammond asked her in a softer voice.

"I... I... don't want to... (Sob) do... this."

"You'd rather the punishment room?" Hammond said.

The girl shook her head.

"Good," Hammond said, then pulled the girl's face against his crotch.

'She's such a pretty thing, ' Hammond thought as he finished undoing his fly. 'Such lovely dark eyes.'

"Put it in your mouth," he told her, waving his erect cock in her face.