So what is my pathetic purpose in life as a human being (or what's left of it)? To be counted as one of the prisoners of this prison camp. I am merely a number. Number 435. Sometimes I am all alone for long, long periods of time. I am in solitary confinement. There are no windows, so I don't know if it is night or day.

The reason why I am put away like this is because I didn't confess all when I am being interrogated.

All the prisoners in this camp are interrogated. Why we are being interrogated is known by only one person. Her name is Destiny. She is the Supreme Wardress of this prison camp.

Of all my miserable and destitute life the only thing that keeps me alive is to be interrogated by Wardress Destiny. I am brought to her often, because she claims I am a very difficult prisoner to extract a confession from.

I am brought from my cell to be placed in the presence of Wardress Destiny. Today isn't any different from any other day I am brought here. I am tied to a chair at my ankles and I have my wrists tied behind my back and tied to the chair. My chest is held in place by rope bondage. Destiny slowly paces in front of me, with her fists on her hips. She is wearing black latex knee high boots that lace up the front. She is wearing black fishnet stockings with a seam up the back. She is wearing a black latex skirt with a zipper in the front. She is wearing a black leather bra. She is wearing a warden hat. She is wearing short gray leather gloves. She looks terrifying and at the same time very beautiful.

Again Wardress Destiny asks me the same question she always asks me, "why did you do it?"

I look at her and mumble, "do what?"

"Your crime!" she screams!

And with that she begins to slap my face. She slaps me very, very hard. I don't mind this part. The slapping stings my face, but doesn't hurt.

After much slapping and back of the hand slapping, she finally stops.

"Why did you do it?" she asks again.

"I don't know what to say," I answer.

"Say the truth, Prisoner 435!" she growls.

"I forgot!" I answer.

Now Wardress Destiny is starting to become very angry. She is now punching me instead of slapping me. She is strong and her punches land solidly on my face. With each blow I feel my flesh rip and my bones bend. Over and over she screams at me to confess.

This goes on for a long, long, time. I black out from the intense pain. When I come to, I feel very much pain in my eye. There is a small mirror hanging on the wall. I guess this is here for us prisoners to look at Wardress Destiny's brutal work she administers to our pathetic faces. I can see my eye is hanging from it's socket. Oh my!

Wardress Destiny is again disgusted with me. I did not confess. I am sent again to solitary confinement. As I lay on the floor, I close my eyes and see the vision of Wardress Destiny in my mind. Her red lips, her long hair. Her perfume is still in my nose, blocking out all other smells. My hand is numb from being so tightly bound for so long. But still, as always, it finds it's way to my penis. Faster and faster I stroke my hard penis until I am lost in my orgasm. I am thinking about Wardress Destiny's supreme beauty, strength and power. I hope I am never paroled from Wardress Destiny's Prison Camp

To contact Mistress Destiny:

Boxholder
PO Box 3126
Jersey City NJ
201-435-2946 or 201-435-7929
E-Mail: leathermis@aol.com
or visit http://www.domina.ms/Destiny/