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The Convict

The Convict/My Prison Folder
The Holding Centre
My Day In The Cell
I Am Sentenced
Arrival At The California Institute
Ms Wilson
My Cell
I Start Serving My Sentence
Ms Mary Keeps Me In Order
Open Day
The Visitors

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

The Dominafuhrer

The New Recruit

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine


An Introduction

VO Stories

Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss

I Sign A Contract


A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1


The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood




Chapter 5 - I Am Sentenced

The next day, about an hour after breakfast, the center hatch was opened. I was dozing on the bunk. I slept so badly at night, that I kept napping during the days now.

I heard the day guard's voice  “Stand up. Put your hands behind your head”

“Now. turn around, slowly!”

I guessed she wanted to inspect me for hidden weapons. Although what she thought I could possibly have, I couldn't guess. There was nothing at all in the cell!

There was nothing to be gained by arguing, so I did as she instructed. I stood naked, my hands clasped behind my neck, turning slowly for her inspection.

“Now walk towards the cell door...... turn and stand with your back to the door........ put your hands out.”

 I obediently put my hands out of the cell. I felt  handcuffs around my wrists. They were locked snugly.

I heard the door bolts being slid back. I was being let out of the cell! Now I would be able to explain!

The door was slowly swung open. Two black uniformed women guards stood in the corridor. One held  a set of ankle shackles, the other an electric stun baton. The guard with the shackles stepped forward and snapped them on my ankles.  She checked my handcuffs, and tightened them until they pressed into my wrists. Then she stepped back a pace.

“The Convict is secure” she said.

That was the first time I had been called a 'Convict'!

The guards each took one on my arms, above the elbow.

“Come along, Convict” the guard with the electric baton said. “If you speak, even a single word, or show any resistance, you will be immediately shocked! It will be better for you, not to resist!”

I suddenly felt the shock baton being pressed against my buttocks, then forward between my legs, and pressed against my balls. I realised if I made any sudden moves, I would get it!

I shuffled along the corridor, guided by their hands on my arms.  I dared not speak or resist.

I was taken up the elevator  and into an office. I could see sunshine through the windows. Two secretaries paused and look at me as I was led in. I was naked. I was led across the room to a desk by the window, where a lady was seated, and pulled to a halt a few feet from the desk. The guards kept their grip on my arms, but thankfully removed the shock baton from between my legs. 

An older lady sat at the desk. About 40, I guessed. She wore a white blouse and smart dark business clothes.  I could see ler legs under the desk. She was wearing dark stockings. She had kicked her shoes off, and they lay under her chair, beside her feet. I am always surprised how attractive old women can be.

This must be Ms Smith, the Administrator, I thought.  Sandra had said she would get my Prison folder.

The lady had a folder on her desk. I could see that it looked like the folder that Sandra had prepared for me!  She looked up at me, then opened the folder.

“Good morning, Convict. This will just take a few minutes. Just relax and answer my questions. But don't try to move, or the guards will subdue you!”

“Yes, Ma'am” I said respectfully. It was going to be very embarrassing to confess the game I had been playing, but it was obviously going to be necessary. Unless this was also part of Sandra's plan, I suddenly wondered!

“Convict Smith, I am the administrator here, and its my duty to inform you of your sentence, and arrange your transport to your final prison”.

I interrupted her “Pardon me, Ma'am...but my name isn't Smith. I thought that was your name!”

She looked cross. “Be quiet! What are you babbling about, Smith! Are you losing touch with reality?”

I was confused. What had Sandra put in that folder?

When she saw I was silent, she continued: “You'll get a chance to speak later, Smith. Now, let's move on. I have your Prison folder here, Smith. I'm sure it's all in order all the paperwork is complete. Sandra always checks the folders before passing them to me, and she does excellent work”.

She opened the folder, and turned though the papers.  She paused.

“Oh...I see you are one of Sandra's special cases” She looked up at me, and smiled.

“By that, I mean, of course.....only that Sandra has done her usual excellent work........” she said, after a pause.

She looked down at the papers. “I see that I only need to enter the final sentence of the Court. Which Sandra has helpfully provided......and the recommended prison for you also.....I see that is here too!.....Sandra has provided all the paperwork.....”.

She held up a sheet of paper.

“I just need to read this to you, and put in your folder, and then you can be taken to your final prison to begin serving your sentence.”

“Do you have anything to say before I read your sentence to you?”

Things were going much too far! Time for me to to explain things! It would be embarrasing to explain, but it was obviously necessary. Unless this woman was in on the game with Sandra?  And the guards too? Surely not! I was really confused now.  The only thing to do now, was to explain what Sandra and I had done, and accept the embarrassement. I'd try to explain it as a harmless prank....

 “Yes, Ma'am! I do! This is all not real! I'm not a convict! My name isn't Smith. Isn't that your name?”

The lady just looked at me. A kind of half-smile formed on her lips.

I twisted my wrists my cuffs. I felt the guards tighten their grip on my arms.

I continued...I had to put an end to this farce.  “Ma'm, this is a misunderstanding. Sandra knows about it! Just ask her! Its hard  for me to to explain, and kind of embarrassing......but basically my name isn't Smith! ”

She frowned. “I am Ms Jenner. Are you feeling alright, Smith?”

She looked at the guards. “He's had no medications today, Ms Jenner” the one on my left said.

“Are you playing for time, Smith?” Ms Jenner was frowning even more now “It won't help you!”.

Oh...I musn't get her angry! I thought.

“Please Ma'am, I'm not trying to delay.... but my name really isn't Smith”. I spoke very respectfully this time, hoping to calm her down.

She began to laugh.

“I've sentenced many convicts. They always beg, when they hear their sentences! But this is the most absurd thing I've heard....” she said, smiling.

She leaned back in her chair. “Tell me, convict Smith.....” she said, mockingly “You have just spent the last two days and nights locked in cell 14, have you not?.....Cell 14 is listed here as Smith's cell.... did you steal the key, let him out, and lock yourself in his cell?”

I heard the guards laugh.

Ms Jenner smiled more. She held up my prison folder.  “And isn't this your Prison folder, with your name and convict number? Its printed right here on the cover?”

She held up the Prison folder, with “J T Smith, 26131” printed on the cover, in large black letters. Everyone could see it. I heard the secretaries laugh.

“Ma'am, I know it sounds crazy when you put it like that, but I'm definitely not Smith! My name is Peter Mann. Let's talk about this! But please, first, may I be given some clothes? And can you take these handcuffs off, please?”

She stopped smiling. “You will remain shackled, Smith! Your Prison folder classifies you as violent and most dangerous, and an escape risk! Convicts of that classification are ALWAYS kept naked, and are ALWAYS escorted in full shackles when taken out of their cell!”

“But I'm NOT Smith! You aren't letting explain!” I said, more loudly this time.

She frowned. I could see she was becoming irritated with me.

She looked me straight in the eye. “So, convict Smith....what is this ridiculous 'explanation' you think you have? You are entitled to speak, but make it short! I'm running out of patience with you! I wish to get you sentenced and packed off to prison without delay!”

I gulped. She kept calling me Smith! She clearly didn't believe I wasn't Smith! Somehow, I had to convince her!

“Please Ma'am! Please look in my Prison folder! You will find a letter there. Please read it!”

She carefully looked through the folder, then looked back up at me.

“There is no letter in your folder, convict Smith Just the proper documents. And they are all in order.”

“Wait....then, please..... look at my social security number.....its in the prison folder.  Please.....look that up on the government data base. You will see that it belongs to Peter Mann, not Smith. I'm Peter Mann! And you will find that Peter Mann has no criminal record!”

She looked in the folder.  “Your Prison folder of course includes your social security number, Smith. It is 063 445 9882. Your folder shows that it has been certified by the Court Clerk as being your correct number.”

That wasn't my number! I was so surprised!......Sandra had said she would use my social security number! She told me she would! I coudn't think what to say! But I would have to think fast! How could I explain that?

Wait.....I suddenly realised that Sandra had asked for my number.....but I had only assumed she would use it in my prison folder! Sandra had tricked me even with that!

I  was totally off-balance now. This was not what I had expected! I was getting confused! It was all happening too fast!

I desperately tried to think of what to say next.  Noone would ever believe the court had got the wrong social security number! I twisted my wrists in my cuffs. I felt the guards tighten their grip on my arms.  I was sweating. This was not going well. If anything, Ms Jenner was more convinced that I was Smith, than when I started talking.

“Wait.....please....Ma'am....I promise you......I know I asked you to look at my number......but that's not my number......I know it sounds crazy......something is wrong…......please...............I need time to think......” I was talking wildly now, desperate. What was going on? Sandra had tricked me completely! How could I convince this woman?

I suddenly saw how I could prove I wasn't Smith. “Ma'am....don't use the social security number.......please.....please look up the court records of this Smith.....does the court have a photograph? Or finger prints That will show I'm not smith!”

She sighed. “This is a waste of my time! But I suppose I can do this one last check. Let me look you up on the Court database”

“Thank you Ma'am! Thank you...thank you!”

She waved me into silence. “This is the last thing I'm doing, Smith! After this I'm going to proceed immediately with your sentencing!”

She picked up the phone. “This is Ms Jennner at the Holding Center. I need the Court Computer access code for Convict J T Smith, number 26131.......yes, he was convicted last monday........I'm at his sentencing.......I just need to check one small hing..........thank you”.

She put down the phone and typed on her computer keyboard.  There was a pause. This was back in the late 70s, when desk computers were rare, and very slow. I saw the screen fill with data. She carefully read it, comparing to my Prison folder. Then she looked up at me.

“I have your official Trial information before me on my computer display, Convict Smith, direct from the Court database! Your social security number, which is certified as being yours in your Prison folder, is indeed that of the criminal John T Smith. I also see that your  photograph in your Prison folder is exactly the same photograph as in the Court's Trial database, which is certified to be that of Smith, and is a perfect likeness to you. I also see that your fingerprints from the Court Trial database clearly match those in your Prison folder.”

She looked at me coldly. “I think that clears up all your wild claims, Smith.”

She looked at the computer screen again. “I also see that you have also been indicted for six prior assaults on six different women, and in every case you were aquitted for lack of evidence! But at your recent trial DNA evidence was available, and matched yours. I see that you also failed the lie detector test. The jury convicted you unanimously on accounts of assault, kidnapping, and rape with violence, after a jury recess of only 10 minutes!”

She turned away from her computer. “I think that clears up any question of who, and what, you are, Convict! You look normal, but its established that you are a dangerous serial rapist! It's going to give me great pleasure to give you the appropriate sentence!”

I was floored. Sandra had ensured every detail was covered! But there was now no point in trying to explain that to Ms Jenner! I could see she was tired of listening to me.

“I think we have wasted enough time here!” she said.

I sobbed helplessly.  Sandra had somehow entered my real photo and fingerprints into the Prison folder and the Court database under some criminal's identity, some maniac called John Smith! Now everyone is totally sure I'm Smith!  Sandra had prepared a perfect Prison folder for me! Nobody would listen to a crazy story of mistaken identity from a Convict, when all the official records were so clear! I was going to be locked up! And while I was locked up,  Sandra would be free, with my real social security number and my bank account numbers! That's why she wanted my social security number!  It was obvious to me now! She just wanted to get access to my bank accounts after I'm locked up!

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was in a hopeless situation now. This was so unfair!  had done too good a job! I was going to be sentenced! But I had to get free......I couldn't bear to be put back in that cell!

“Now, Convict, stop blubbering. I must finish this up. Your sentences have been affirmed by the Court, and I will read them to you now, then I will attach them to your Prison folder, as required.

“Convict Smith, your sentence is as follows:

“For the crime of assault, the Court sentences you to 35 years imprisonment, with a recommendation of 'no parole'. For the crime of kidnapping, the Court sentences you to life imprisonment, without parole. And finally, for the crime of rape with violence, the Court sentences you to life imprisonment without parole. The three sentences, two life sentences plus 35 years, will be served consecutively, in the California Correctional Institute.  You will be given credit for the 6 months you have spent in prison during your trial. The Court hereby classifes you as “violent and dangerous, and an escape risk” so you will serve your sentences in maximum security. Further, the Court authorizes the Institute Staff to apply any and all Corporal Punishment that they may consider necessary!”.

'That is all, Smith. It has been my pleasure to sentence you! Its good to know someone like you will be  locked up for the rest of your life! The California Institute is one of the Private Prisons the Goevernment uses, to keep down costs. It is very well regarded for its total security, its extremely strict discipline, and it has a very low cost per inmate-year. It is a woman-run Institute, which specialises in the secure confinement of males. No convict has ever escaped from the Institute! I know the Warden there, Ms Wilson, very well, and often visit her, to watch the weekly whippings! She will ensure that you serve your full sentence, under strict discipline! I assure you of that!”

She signed the paper, put it in the folder, and closed the folder. “Take him away” she said to the guards

Oh no! I had to do something! I was being sentenced as a rapist! To life without parole! NO!!!! The guards gripped my arms tighter.  And I knew they had the shock baton ready to use!

I had to stop this! “No....please Ms Jenner......please don't send me back to that cell.......please.......I'm innocent.......” I moaned.

“I'm not sending you back to your cell, Convict! I'm sending you to the Transport Vehicle, which will take you directly to the California Institute! I suspect that when you arrive at the Insitute, you'll wish I had sent you back to your cell!”

I suddenly lost my temper. They were completely wrong about me! I tried to pull free, but the guards held me fast. “Let me go!” I shouted. “I'm innocent! You can't keep me locked up! I'll get out somehow!”

Ms Jenner leaned back in her chair and watched me struggle. With the cuffs and shackles, I had no chance to get free. The guards tested my arms, hard! It really hurt! I gave in, and calmed down. I was helpless.

“That was quite a display of temper, Convict!” she said. “If you were held here longer, I would enjoy curing you of that type of behaviour! But that will be Ms Wilson's job now”.

She wrote something on an additional piece of paper and slipped it into my Prison folder. She looked at me icily.

“For that outburst, I'm including that note to Ms Wilson, suggesting a suitable disciplinary course of punishment for you. I will make an especial effort to visit the Insitute to see your punishment applied!”

She spoke to the guards. “The officers from the California Institute are waiting down in the courtyard with the Transport Vehicle. Take the convict  down and hand him over to their custody. Give this Prison folder to the Guards, and tell them it's for Ms Wilson's immediate attention, and it has a personal note from me included.”

“Ma'am, please, I'm not a rapist....please ask Ms Sandra....if you ask her, she'll............”

Ms Jenner interrupted me, motioning to the guards “Get the rapist out of here! Now!”

The guards started to lead me towards the door. NO!...I could not go to prison for life! I started to struggle against the guards grip on arms.

Ms Jenner immediately stood up.

“Shock him!” She ordered. 

The lady guard standing behind me immediately pushed her electric baton between my legs and against the back of my balls, and pressed the button. The pain was intense. My legs folded and collapsed, the guards on each side supporting me. I vaguely remember being dragged away from her desk, cuffed and shackled, and the sound of the secretaries laughing and applauding. As they dragged me I tried to stand, but I was immediately shocked again, and everything went black.

To continue this story, click Arrival At The Californian Institute

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