Chapter One

Muffin Brown Aspires

My hand rises and I find my fingers rubbing the finely polished bars of steel. The sense of permanency such a bulwark confers brings goose bumps. As I know after the many weeks, that which is placed inside will never be released... not without my acquiescence and then only under my direction. I can feel the sense of empowerment the well crafted cage of metal bestows. Though age 23, I feel as excited as a young girl at a birthday party.

In training class, the confinement enclosures were of wood, designed to replicate the conditions without the expense. After all, no one would attempt escape during training class. Therefore cheap wooden dowels were used to fabricate replicas of the hardened steel in order to facilitate practice in feeding, handling and caring for that placed within.

“It does imbue one with an arousing sense of governance, does it not? I felt the same when my first tour began.”

I turn my head to the room’s entranceway, a solid door of equally imposing metal, to see that an enormous woman of some forty years has been observing my state of reverie. Whereas I would normally feign some degree of innocence, perhaps even blush, when someone suggested that thoughts of authority could instill arousal, I instead smile devilishly. After all, I know the woman is one of us... one of the many employed by the Penance Corporation of America who thrill with the notion of governance.

“I’m Peggy Blakely, the warden,” she smiles warmly in extending her hand.

“Muffin Brown,” I courteously reply in offering my hand in return.

“So you’ll have an even dozen,” Peggy remarks in counting the stacks of cages. “The thought of so many may overwhelm at first, but it will take a few days to fill each cage. And just remember your training. It encompasses all a girl needs to know about handling our guests... the truculent male.”

She smiles confidently and with her aura of superiority and knowledge, I feel even more of a joyous glow in contemplating my new employment.

“You’re young and cute, Muffin. With the new prisoners, in the beginning that will be a detriment. But as you’ve learned in training class, your charms will over time very much aid them in embracing subordination.”

I nod, the training thoroughly taking us through the steps which result in complete capitulation, the unwritten goal of the Penance Corporation of America. I recall the instructor’s opening words...

“We could care less about penance, ladies. Don’t let the name confuse you. We want profits. The state pays us fifty dollars per day per prisoner. Thus any amount spent on food and care comes out of potential profits... which affects the bottom line and which affects the stock price.”

That got ev