Jail Intake: First Taste of Captivity

In the dimly lit intake room, inmate 158 stands, hands cuffed behind her, as a stern guard runs a wand over her body, the cold metal sending shivers down her spine. Her breath hitches as the guard's gloved fingers trace her curves, checking for hidden contraband. He pauses at her hips, his touch lingering, making her stomach flutter with a mix of fear and excitement. He leans in, his voice low, "You're new here." It's not a question. She nods, her cheeks flushing. He smirks, "Welcome to jail, sweetheart. This is just the beginning."

• jail
• fing

• Unknown