Welcome to the Dungeon, Part 3:
Janet's Punishment

by MechaBlade

"Gentlemen," Omega wrapped up, "what we happened yesterday was an anomaly.  Due to our newest guard's inexperience, and a new slave's foolish rebelliousness, we were unable to prevent this escape attempt.  But rest assured, nothing like this will happen again at Dungeon Americana."  Omega turned to one of his assistants.  "Bring in Johns," The committee head told him.  The assistant opened the door and let Johns in the briefing room.

Johns stood before the group.  The Dungeon's entire committee was present, committee heads and all.  Johns swallowed and began his statement.

"I am sincerely sorry for my actions yesterday," Master Johns said.  "I realize the errors in my judgment endangered the lives of my fellow employees as well as the security and secrecy of this dungeon.  I will not fail to obey orders and use proper judgment again, and I understand that the consequences will be more dire if I do."

Omega replaced Johns's spot in front of the committee.  "Thank you for coming, gentlemen; those who wish may stay to see the compensation of our sniper, Lieutenant Maxwell."  He turned to Johns, "You may stay and watch, Johns, after all she put you through, but then you must report to Falcon and undergo probation procedures."

"Thank you, sir," Johns responded.  Half of the committee left.  It was, after all, the middle of the week, so most of the members had work to get to.  The rest stayed to watch Maxwell.

Maxwell entered the room, followed by two muscular men carrying Janet.  Janet had been beaten some since her recapture, though her injured hand had been bandaged.  A third guard entered the room with a wooden horse with a cushion covering the top.  The first two men bent Janet over the horse and held her in place as Maxwell stepped behind her and unfastened his pants.  Janet, tired and sore from the abuse that followed her recapture, merely lay on the horse as Maxwell stuck his dick in her pussy and began fucking her from behind.  Maxwell licked his lips and ran his fingers through Janet's hair, his other hand holding on to her hips.

Janet, just like her second day at the Dungeon, was in a psuedo-catatonic state.  The disappointment of her failed escape along with the knowledge that her death was imminent kept her in a state of mental numbness.  She knew that it mattered not whether she obeyed or resisted at this point.  Neither possible action would change the men's decision on her fate, so why should she do anything at all?

In spite of how numb her mind felt, Janet was unable to ignore the physical sensations inflicted on her body.  Accordingly, she grunted with each of Maxwell's thrust while he ravaged her cunt and pulled her hair.  But Janet made herself proud by not uttering another sound, other than the grunts that came from the wind being squished out of her diaphragm every time Maxwell pressed her body against the wooden horse.

Maxwell soon finished pumping and pulled out, grabbing a bunch of Janet's hair.  Before Janet could figure out what he was going to do, he pumped his shaft furiously, dropping cum all over her silky brown hair.  Janet felt shame once again as she lay there, too scared and too tired to move her head away as Maxwell violated her in a manner more strange than disgusting.  Maxwell then grabbed some tissues from the container on the desk and cleaned himself.

"Good job, Max," Omega said to Max, who nodded at this.  "Lee.  Washington.  Take Janet back to Solitary A.  We shall begin the interrogation shortly."


Phyllia was fraught with fear.  She had aided the escape attempt of a slave and, knowing that the penalty for attempting escape was death, she concluded that her penalty would be nearly as severe.  The thought of what horrible tortures she might suffer made her tremble.  She requested the services of her cellmate Jetta for comfort.  But Jetta's oral talents did little to calm Phyllia.

"What's wrong?" Jetta finally asked, removing her face from Phyllia's crotch.  "I'm not doing something wrong am I?"  Phyllia hesitated and finally told Jetta about her involvement in the recent escape attempt.  "Oh Phyllia..."  Jetta stroked her cellmate's thigh sympathetically.

"Please, just keep going," Phyllia told her.  Jetta's face returned to Phyllia's lap and Phyllia cried until she was brought to a subdued orgasm.  As Phyllia began to pull up her shorts, a guard came to the cell and informed Phyllia that her presence was requested.


The cane whistled as it flew through the air and landed on Janet's bare bottom.

"Ungh," Janet breathed.  Even she did not know why she continued to fight back her tears.  A couple of unintentional teardrops fell from her otherwise blank face.  She grunted again as the cane kissed her red buttocks once more.

Harding stopped his whipping with a motion from his superior, Gabriel.  The youngest committee member at the Dungeon, Gabriel was an outstanding sadist and looked forward to torture sessions with the girls.  However, Janet was beginning to get on his nerves.  It wasn't her defiance but her determination not to cry out or show pain that pissed him off.  He reminded himself it was only a matter of time.

"Still don't want to talk, Janet?" Gabriel asked.  Janet remained silent.  "We're going to find out the details sooner or later, so how's about you just be a good girl and tell us everything about your little escape plan?"  Janet still kept her mouth shut.  "Yo, bitch!  I'm talking to you."  Gabriel walked in front of Janet, bent over and put his face close to hers.  "S'thematter?  Cat got your tongue?  Not feeling talkative?  No, you just like being spanked.  That must be it.  You're a very dirty, kinky girl."  Gabriel stood up and resumed his view of her splayed ass.

"Continue," he told Harding.  Harding whipped Janet's ass with the cane.  Gabriel smiled when he heard Janet let out a quiet sob.


If Phyllia was scared of her fate before, she was terrified now.  She shook in her bonds, awaiting the men's next move.  They had taken a brief break after putting Phyllia and her favorite sub Carrie in the Double Rotisserie.

The Double Rotisserie was a seldom-used restraining bench for two occupants.  The first and bottom occupant had her arms and legs spread, but not all the way.  Her arms were laid flat, bent at the elbow so that her hands were level with her head.  Her legs were spread open and bent at the knee so they projected from her body a little.  The second person was in the exactly same position, but upside down.  The top occupant faced the bottom one, but spun 180 degrees so that the restrained persons were strapped in a sixty-nine position.  The top occupant had her arms bound to a plank, right next to the bottom person's legs.  The legs were bound to the bottom plank, right next to the bottom person's arms.  One of the two main reasons for using this bench was to introduce or encourage lesbianism among the slaves.  These two women, though, were already unashamed women-lovers.

Phillia and Carrie stared at each other's crotches, Phyllia on top and Carrie on the bottom, occasionally arched their necks up to see what their masters were doing.  Stone and Lewis stood in the corner, quietly conversing.  Johns stood next to them, saying nothing.  Finally, Stone spoke, breaking the silence.

"You have been brought here because we know that you two know something about Janet O'Flannery's escape attempt.  You're both upper-level girls; you have learned that cooperation is rewarded and that disobedience is harshly punished.  So if you answer my questions in a complete and timely manner, then you may be alright.  If not... well, let's just hope you do."  Stone revealed the small taser he had been holding behind his back and pressed it quickly so that Phyllia would see the electricity jump from one small rounded contact to the other.  Phyllia began to sweat.

"Phyllia, did you have anything to do with the knife that Janet had?"

"Yes, Master," Phyllia answered quickly.

"Did you give it to her?"

"I didn't give it personally, Master, but I obtained it for her."

"From where did you obtain the knife?"

"From the kitchen, Master."

Phyllia answered the rest of Stone's questions obediently, desperately trying to avoid the small taser he held in his hand.  The taser had a curious design and Phyllia knew it had to be shaped the way it was for a reason.  Stone just paced quietly after finishing his line of questioning, going over the answers in his head and making sure he had covered everything.  He then walked behind Phyllia- next to Carrie's head- and pressed the taser against Phyllia's asshole.

The taser was about the size and shape of a small dildo, rounded with a diameter of two inches.  The contacts were on either side of the taser, which was unusual, but the size and voltage of the contacts allowed for an arc of electricity, just like conventional tasers.  The contacts were rounded instead of pointed so that the pain would come from the electrical current, not the sharpness of the contacts when pressed against sensitive areas.

So although Phyllia jumped against her bonds as soon as the head of the device touched her butthole, she felt no pain until Stone held pressed the button, holding it for one second.  Phillia convulsed, wetting herself over Carrie.  The Double Rotisserie was also used to introduce slaves to excretion play, or just to punish the slave on the bottom.  Piss shot onto Carrie's face in spurts.  Carrie shut her eyes and looked away.

"Phillia, you seemed to have learned your lesson.  But you are no longer allowed to transport sharp objects.  Forks, knives, nothing...  If you have to wrap it up before you stick it up your ass, you can't send it.  And no transporting anything for sixty days or so.  Also, no visits for thirty days.  We will let you know when the times are over.  Phyllia," Stone spoke slowly, "you got off lucky."

"Thank you, Master."  The men let the slaves have their underground trade.  Women usually traded small harmless items, such as cigarettes or vials of alcohol that they obtained from their masters or clients of the Dungeon.  By allowing this trade of insignificant items, the men could punish or reward slaves by cutting off trade or giving women items respectively.

Lewis turned the rotisserie, flipping it so that Carrie was now on top and Phyllia at the bottom.  Stone began again.

"Carrie, did you deliver the knife to Janet?"

"Yes, Master," she answered timidly.

"Did Phyllia reward you for sending the knife?"

"No, Master, but she was going to after I did it."

"How was she going to reward you?"

"She was going to let me cum, Master."

Stone smiled and continued, "Is Phyllia your mistress?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you have any other mistresses?"

Carrie hesitated.  Phyllia opened her mouth in shock.

"Carrie?  You-" Phyllia began, but stopped when Stone shocked her asshole with the taser.

"Let Carrie speak!  Carrie!  Do you have any other mistresses?"

"... Uh..."  Stone walked to Carrie's backside and electrocuted her butthole.  Carrie shook and started crying.  "Yes, Master, I do!"

"What are their names?"

"Tonya and..."  Carrie hesitated before admitting that she was a sub for Denise, a Prostitute that Phyllia hated.


"...I... uh..."  Carrie managed to scream as Stone tased Carrie's asshole and held it there.  She twitched back and forth, her muscles spasming.  Just as Stone pulled the anal taser away, she too lost control of the muscles containing her bodily waste.  Her asshole opened and she let a few turds slip out, shitting all over Phyllia's face while Phyllia gasped in horror.  Carrie was humiliated at her unbelievable faux pas.  She had just shat on her mistress.  This would surely result in discipline once Phyllia was allowed visits again.  Carrie ignored her embarrassment and spoke quickly, "Denise.  Denise, Master."


Carrie answered the rest of Stone's questions to his satisfaction and Stone let the two women go back to their respective cells.  Due more to their cooperation than their small level of involvement in the escape attempt, both Phyllia's and Carrie's punishments would be light and temporary.  The same could not be said for Janet.

Janet had suffered much physical and emotional pain already.  Currently she was suffering the emotional and physical pain of an anal rape.  She did little to resist; she wasn't completely limp in her restraints, but she wasn't straining against her bonds like she had during her first few weeks at the Dungeon.  Instead she patiently waited for the man to finish using her rectum.

"Atta girl," said Kaplan, the man inside Janet, "atta girl."  Kaplan stopped moving and Janet concluded he must have came.  Just as he was withdrawing, Gabriel casually walked up to Janet, holding a bunch of grapes in one hand and popping them one by one into his mouth.

"Well, Kaplan it looks like you're the last one to use Janet," Gabriel said.  Kaplan said nothing and just pulled out of Janet, admiring the gaping hole he'd left.  "Carrie and Phyllia told us everything.  So Janet, I just want to run their story by you: you fucked Phyllia so she'd give you the knife, using Carrie as her mule.  Is that it?"

Janet looked down at the ground inches from her face.  There was no use in keeping quiet anymore.  She had hoped she could spare the other slaves from punishment, but the men already knew everything.  Gabriel kicked Janet, shouting, "Ass whore, I asked you a question!"

"Yes," she croaked.

"No one else was involved?" he asked, chewing another grape.


"Anything else you want to tell me?"


"Alright."  Gabriel pushed a grape into her gaping asshole.  Janet coughed in discomfort.

Janet was taken back to solitary, where she was left to wait for a few days without any visits from the men, except for an occasional bowl of water.  Thus, when the men let her out to give her a "final meal" she was starving.  Eager to make the most out of her last few days, she stuffed her face at the buffet her masters prepared to her.  The overabundance of food didn't strike her as odd; her thoughts were simple and unquestioning at that point.  But the truth was, women at the Dungeon didn't usually get "final meals" before their executions.

A few hours later, they took Janet to another room in the Dungeon.  This one was clean, mostly empty and nondescript, just like all the other rooms she had been in, so she could not tell what was going to happen to her.  None of the men had answered her questions for the last few hours, so she gave up asking and just went where she was led.

A woman was with the men, but she didn't look like a typical slave.  She was completely covered like the Prostitutes were, but she wasn't on a leash nor was she being held by one of the men.  She was appeared older than the other slaves as well, though still quite attractive.  She introduced herself to Janet as Mistress Cat, and Janet gathered that there must have been a fifth elite ranking for the women at the Dungeon.  She was right.  There was a seldom-used second option to death for complaisant Prostitutes that reached the slave age limit.  Cat Reynolds was the first slave to exploit this option.  She helped Janet into her restraints.

Janet was locked down on the floor, her legs tucked under her stomach and forearms laid flat down in front of her legs.  Janet heard the clanging of metal instruments and looked back to see Cat sliding a small metal rod up Janet's asshole.

The instrument wasn't too cold and was definitely thin enough to fit in, but Janet begun crying, knowing this procedure would have something to do with her death.  Mistress Cat took out the rod and put a thicker one in.  She wondered how they were going to kill her.  Cat took the other one out and put a thick rod in her ass.  She gasped a little.  Mistress took that out and put a huge one in.  It took a bit more effort.

"Ow," she cried.

"You baby," Cat spoke.  "That's only 4 and we're going up to 10."  Ten?  Janet trembled with fear.  "Don't worry this is lubricated."  The lubrication helped but the fifth rod still hurt going in.

"Aaah."  Cat took out Number 5 and put in 6.  "Aaaaaaahhhh!"

"Come on, I know you can take more than this," Cat told her, pushing the rod in slowly.  Janet felt like her colon was going to burst.  Was this how they planned to kill her?

Seven.  "AAAAAHHH!"  Cat had trouble getting this in.  She pushed the half-buried metal rod in further.  "AAAAAAAAAHHH HAAAHH AAHH!  Are you going to kill me with these?!"  She clenched her fists tightly.

"It's all part of the process, Janet."  With that she gave a big push and Janet screamed bloody murder.  The Mistress, seeing blood, decided they wouldn't get to ten on her little tight ass.  Seven would be sufficient.

Mistress Cat opened a door and Janet watched the mistress pulled an iron chain that was threaded through a hook in the ceiling of the next room.  She walked behind Janet and Janet heard the clanking of metal as the mistress attached the chain to the rod in Janet's backside.  Cat freed Janet from the floor restraints and handcuffed her while she still lay on the floor.

Cat looked over Janet, admiring Janet's body.  She kissed Janet's reluctant lips, grabbed a handful of Janet's butt, and lamented, "What a waste of a beautiful ass."  She then called out that Janet was "ready" to someone in the room in front of Janet.  With that, the chain began to move forward, dragging Janet into the room by her ass until Janet stood up and backed into the room the chain was pulling her into.

The room was about five stories high and the door that Janet was being pulled through was on the fifth story.  When Janet saw the giant drop that awaited her, she resisted, attempting to lock her legs around the doorway, but the immediate anal pain and difficulty of grabbing the wall with her ankles caused her to let go and fall into the room.

The rod had an intensely firm grip on her asshole, so instead of popping out of her ass as she imagined it would, the rod held her five stories high, pushing on her rim from inside her anus with all of her 120 pounds.  After she stopped swinging, she felt the full force of her weight on her anal contraption and screamed with the unbearable pain.  The chain stopped.

Five stories below, one of the men watching Janet squirm lit a cigar.  They watched until she stopped screaming and only clenched her teeth in agony.  One of them spoke.

"Well, Janet, I hope you've learned your lesson.  And I hope you enjoyed your last meal.  It'll be the death of you in a few hours, you know."  Before Janet blacked out from pain, she realized that her large "final meal" was going to result in a large movement.  Then everything went black.

Janet awoke with a feeling of a monstrous dump in her.  She clenched her ass as tight as possible and grabbed the chain tightly with her handcuffed hands.  She wasn't sure why.  She could yank the chain from her ass and end her life quickly now.  Or she could hold on to the chain with hands if the metal rod escaped her ass and wait to see if the men would keep her around.  She pulled a little on the chain, but this only made the pain worse.

Janet decided to live.  She would hold on to this chain as long as possible.  If the rod were pushed out of her ass, she would hang by her hands until the men decided to let her down.  Then, if they let her live, she would plot her revenge.

It might take months, it might take years, she thought, but I'll get out of this place.  She felt a renewed vigor suddenly.  She wouldn't make the same mistake as last time, planning an escape after a couple of weeks.  No, she'd wait years, sucking every dick in sight and giving her ass up every time a man passed her so that she could make it to Prostitute.  She'd build up trust, get close to the men, and earn privileges, all the while plotting, conspiring with other slaves, making secret plans...  She was an officer of the law.  Of course she could do it!  No, it was her duty to do it.  She almost escaped from the Dungeon after less than six months here.  With the knowledge she could gain in a few years, she could make a foolproof plan, with plenty of backup plans, just in case.

She felt her body pushing the large metal cylinder out.  Janet gripped the chain, hoping the rod would remain stuck.  She realized that her hands could not hold long, and if the rod stuck, it would be days before she died of fecal impaction.  However, it appeared this would not happen.  Her internal lubrication was making the rod slip.  Her shit pushed it a little further.

She eased the pain in her ass a little by pulling herself up, letting her arms bear some of her weight.  Her injured right hand throbbed with pain after a few seconds, so she had to let go.  As soon as she did, her shit moved forward and popped the end of the rod out.  It took only a couple of seconds for her excrement to push the rest of her metal buttplug out.

"No!  No!  Help!" she shrieked.  Her cries echoed through the empty room.  She grabbed the chain for dear life as fecal matter followed the rod and flowed out of her ass.  Janet watched her shit fall for a few seconds and hit the ground.  She was holding on to the chain as tightly as she could, but her sweaty, aching hands slowly slid down the chain.  Her hands eventually reached the metal rod, which was slippery with lube and fecal matter, and it slipped from her hands before she could try to re-grab the chain.  Janet fell.