Diary of a corrections Officer	Back to J	Back to main page

Collected by Djian

Diary of a Corrections Officer
by roy <theonerealguy@hotmail.com

Editor Carrie

After many years as a correction officer, I consider myself quite experienced at
my job, but it was not the case some many years ago. As always, in any
profession, when you think you have seen it all something happens that makes you
think twice. After many years I have decided to write about the experiences that
have impacted my life and career. I will keep it in the order as I experienced
them. Lots of the events, although fresh in my mind, happened many years ago.


Well, let me tell you about myself. I am thirty-eight years old and have been
married for the last twelve years to a wonderful man who is also a corrections
officer. It is my first marriage and both of us agree that we are made for each
other. I am a petite woman with no children. Somehow, something is wrong but I
won't get into that now. My height is five foot four inches without heels and I
currently weigh 119 pounds. I have shoulder-length, jet black hair and my skin
tone is fair. I do not spend too much time in the sun. I do work out several
times a week and my measurements are 32-24-34. I know self-defense and working
in the jail system has given me lots of experience on defending myself.
When I turned twenty-one and after working at different places and not getting
anywhere; my parents convinced me to work for the government. I remembered how
they would tell me that the benefits alone were worth it. So I saw an ad in the
local papers 'correction officers, no experience necessary, will train'. That
sounded like something I could do so I applied, took the test and quickly found
myself in the academy. The first day, there were about twenty in the class. I'd
say about twelve men and eight women. When the instructor entered the classroom,
there was a long pause before he began to speak. 'Well, if you are here to have
a plush and easy job, this is not the place. Corrections officers are
over-worked and under-paid and there is no compensation for stress. The one
thing you better remember is that if the inmates take over, just grab your
ankles and pucker up. If that does not sound like something you can handle, you
are welcome to leave and there will be no hard feelings.' At that point five of
the women and two men quietly walked out of the class. With that, he continued
the weeks of training. Mostly the do's and don'ts. The training focused on riot
training and I could not forget the day we were in full riot gear in an isolated
part of a jail simulating regaining control. The gear was heavy. It felt as if
someone had turned off the air conditioner. I could feel my head sweat
underneath the helmet I was wearing. As our team stopped and waited for further
instructions, I looked into an empty cell and in a daze, I wondered. 'If I were
ever captured by inmates, I would find myself naked in a cell and several of
those animals having their way with me, and in front of my co-workers.' How
terrible I would feel facing them, knowing they have seen me used and abused.
Suddenly the command was given and we continued the training. At the end of the
exercise, he said that we did well but in a real riot if we gain control without
losing a life, that is good.
After training I was assigned to a cycle in a street jail. The term 'cycle' is
used to indicate the first three months I will be working. They keep us rotating
to prevent anyone getting too close to the inmates (allowing to do illegal
things for profit). I guess I do not need to get into details but you can draw
your own conclusions. The street jail was just were the local authorities would
just drop off those arrested and we held them till we had a large enough group
to transfer to the county lock-up. My shift was a three to twelve. It really was
hard to adjust to this because I was leaving for work at two in the afternoon
and I would finish at midnight. My supervisor was a woman in her late fifties
and always talked about retiring soon. Our team consisted of eight men and two
women. At first I really felt uncomfortable patting down the women and having
them pull there bras loose and feeling the crotch of their panties not to
mention all the times I had to pull up the hem of there dress to expose their
panties. (There a few times I lifted the hem of a dress up to find a bare ass.)
It took some getting use, to but I did. Nothing was going to prepare me for what
my supervisor had in store for me. In training, I was made aware of cavity
searches but thought it would be done by someone else, until one day my
supervisor called me to our isolation room. We all have radios to communicate
with each other in case of emergency. I entered the room and it was her and a
woman that must have been in her forties. She was well- dressed like some bank
executive. Her perfume did not smell cheap but fragrance filled the room and
smelled pleasant. As I looked at the woman I could see the fear in her eyes,
they were glassy. I knew she was holding back tears. My supervisor handed me a
new pair of latex gloves and told me that I was going to perform a cavity
search. I though to myself as I looked at the scared woman she could easily be
my mother. I was not ready for this today. My supervisor interrupted my thoughts
by reminding me to do it just like I was trained to do. I cleared my throat and
explained to her that this was a routine search (I lied to her trying to make
her more relaxed). I then asked her to please remove her jacket and as she
handed it to me slowly, I started to search the pockets. I asked her to remove
her blouse as I put the coat on a table we have in the room. I continued to ask
her for the next piece of clothing. Soon she was just in her full slip. The next
items were her shoes. I noticed the label inside that they were expensive
Italian shoes. She continued and removed her panty hose. (I tossed them into the
garbage since they can be used as a weapon or even to commit suicide.) She
removed her full slip. She was now standing in her bra and matching panties. I
am sure when she put them on this morning she did not think someone was going to
see them. At this point she stopped and I waited in silence until my supervisor
told her that everything had to come off. Slowly she removed her bra and again
the pause, only this time I overcame my own fear and repeated what my supervisor
told her. I watched her slowly insert her thumbs into the elastic waistband and
begin to work them down her thighs and as she handed her last piece of clothing
to me as I began to admire her body. I thought to myself I hoped I would have a
body as nice as hers when I am that age. I then asked her to place her feet
apart even with her shoulders and squat three times exposing her self to me. As
she started I could her face was red with embarrassment and humiliation. The
rest of her body had a fair skin tone and I also noticed several stretch marks
on her belly. I assumed they got there while she was pregnant. Her breasts were
not too large but a good full size I asked her to pull them up by the nipples
and she did so as again her face turned red with humiliation. I walked up close
and began to look in her ears, mouth and I asked her to run her hands through
her hair. After that was complete I asked her to run her hands through her pubic
hairs. She did not have a bikini cut so there was a lots of hair there. At this
time, I knew what I needed to do next and my hands became cold and clammy. I had
to be careful because there was so much sweat in the gloves that I thought it
could come off easily. Never in my life had I ever touched another woman
intimately. I could feel my stomach knotting up and I could feel how cold the
air-conditioner was. I asked her to spread her legs wider as I was trying to
gain enough courage to go through with this. I extended my middle finger and
slowly began to rub it back and forth not in a sexual manner but trying to find
the opening. It was dry at first but as I found the opening it seemed to be
getting wet and at this point I placed my other hand on her thigh and inserted
my finger as far as it would go. The first time I have felt another woman! She
was very warm. I know that my hands must have felt cold to her but I was nervous
this first time. As I removed my fingers I knew that the next orifice would
again be an experience. As I got back up, I told her to turn around and face the
wall and place her hands up to the wall for support and as she did again I
thought to myself that she really has a shapely and beautiful ass. Then, I began
to insert my middle finger into her ass. I could feel her muscles clench my
finger tightly. I then told the to relax her asshole it make it easier to insert
my finger into her ass. (it is funny. I never use those words.) I did not feel
her relax so with one good strong push I just forced my finger into her ass as
far as it would go. She gasped and moaned. I could see the bottom of her feet as
she got on her tiptoes trying to escape my penetrating finger. I removed my
finger and she was allowed to get dressed. After dressing she still looked very
attractive. I think if I had legs like hers I would never wear pantyhose or
stockings.
Then my supervisor and the woman which I degraded for some unknown reason to me
exited the room. I remained and collected my thoughts for some time, I could not
believe what I had just done. I continued the rest of my day normally but still,
deep inside, I was shaking. I kept on picturing that woman in the room totally
naked while I penetrated her most intimate openings. As my supervisor and I were
completing the days paperwork, I told how awful I felt and that I could not
imagine how that woman felt, how humiliated she must have felt, naked, in a room
with strangers submitting to such an intimate search.
That night I did not have a peaceful nights sleep. I could not stop visualizing
the events that took place in that room. I think sometime later, I decided to
get something to drink. I knew that water or soda was not going to do the job so
I opened a bottle of wine that I had bought for some unknown reason and I drank
it until I fell asleep.
The following weeks were uneventful. I do remember mentioning to my supervisor
several times about what I felt when I searched the woman, intimately, that day.
Mostly she would tell me that everyone goes through that and soon I would not
ever think twice about doing it again. I told her it must be very hard for the
woman being searched but she cut me off and told me not to think about it. I
never brought up the subject ever again.
One day, as we finished, we both walked out to our cars together. My supervisor
told me to meet her at the training center the next day. It was strange.
Normally, they would tell the whole team weeks ahead of time but I did not
question her. She also told me to dress pretty and as I asked her what she meant
by that she just replied to wear a nice dress. The next day when I woke, after
my usual shower, I then picked out one of my favorite going out dresses. It is a
red patterned dress, the hem about to the knees. (Yes, at that age I was still
very modest.) I wore the usual matching bra and panties, a full slip and panty
hose. Oh! I did not want to forget a pair of white heeled shoes. I applied some
blush to my face and I was on my way, to what I thought was a party.
I arrived at the training center where I came across Mr. Ferguson, he seemed
surprised to see me but I explained that I was instructed to be here for
training. He replied that he was not aware of any activity for today and he
continued to go his own way. He reinforced the idea that I had earlier, I must
be a surprise, so I continued into the section that we used to train in (it is a
section of the jail that is used only for training and therefore it is always
empty.) where I saw my supervisor.
As soon as we met, she spun me around and placed a set of cuffs on my wrist and
as a reaction I asked her what she was doing. She told me to stay quiet or else.
Soon she was marching me deeper in to the empty jail, she stopped and pushed my
face up against the concrete wall. At this point, I felt her pulling up the hem
of my dress and then felt her hand patting my crotch and groping my ass. She
grabbed my arm and pushed me down a corridor into an open cell with a steel
metal table attached to one of the walls. I knew what this cell was basically
used for and one of my worst fears was coming to life. As she began to uncuff my
arms she told me to cooperate or she would radio some of the male trainees to
help me. Then she spoke the dreaded words " STRIP ". For some reason my first
reaction was to ask her if she was serious and just as I finished saying that
she slapped the side of my face with full force. I began to cry and she
continued her assault, I turned my back towards her trying to avoid any more
blows to my face when I felt her again tugging at my dress and then I felt the
stinging from my ass cheeks, she was spanking me. I was glad I still had my
panties and panty hose on, it did offer some protection to the constant blows
that I was receiving. Through my crying sobs I yelled my submission, I told I
would do whatever she wanted as long as she would stop hitting me. As I tried to
calm down, she repeated her earlier order to remove all my clothes. I was trying
to buy some time by removing my shoes first and then slowly reached up into the
elastic waist band of my panty hose and removed them, reaching out to her and
handing them out to her submissively. I felt strange standing there barefoot,
the cool concrete floor continued to remind me where I was. She then interrupted
my thoughts telling me that the next piece of clothing I would be giving up
better be my panties. I could feel my face blush as I looked out at the cell
opening and then turned to face the blank wall and began to reach under my dress
and to work my panties down my legs and stepped out of them. As I handed them to
her, she told me I was not going to need them any more as she tossed them into a
trash can. "We do not have all day, I want to start to see some more skin." I
began to undo the buttons on the front of my dress until the dress slid down to
the floor and puddled around my ankles as I stepped out of it. I handed it to
her. Now I just stood there in a cell with the cold floor in my beige full slip
that I knew would soon be taken off. I could smell someone's fresh perfume but
did not dare turn and look, fearful to anger her further. She spoke loudly and I
sensed her getting impatient. I continued to face the concrete wall, closing my
eyes tightly I reached for the hem of my slip and worked it over my head and let
it drop somewhere on the floor. I felt my hands fondling the clasp of my bra as
if they had a mind of their own. I removed the last remaining article of
clothing. The silence was unbearable. I felt her eyes roaming my body, when to
my surprise, the voice of another woman who said, "I see you had to smack her
ass". I felt so humiliated standing naked in a cell with a woman that was
talking about my red ass and was getting ready to penetrate every opening on my
body. My supervisor and the other woman chatted together for a short time.
Standing completely naked and having a strange woman witnessing my degradation
was an indescribable feeling, my mind was in turmoil. I felt a hand grab the
back of my neck and force my face to the wall. I extended my forearms to support
myself and to keep my face from smashing into the wall, "oh my GOD" I gasped as
I felt a finger penetrate my asshole. It felt so large and as much as I tried to
relax my ass so it would not be so uncomfortable, it would automatically
tighten. I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks as she introduced what felt
like another finger. I managed to lift myself on my tiptoes trying to escape the
assault on my ass to no avail. She continued to work several fingers deeper into
my asshole and she twisted them inside. Suddenly she removed her fingers. My ass
continued to burn from the assault and I also realized it was not the only part
of my body that was burning. The woman that witnessed my assault slapped my ass
cheek very hard several times. She then whispered into my ear, "Paybacks are a
bitch, would you agree!" I did not dare to look back. The woman began to caress
my ass softly. It felt good as her other hand roamed my thighs and gently rubbed
my pussy. The cell became quiet as the woman spoke to me telling me to turn
around and as I did I noticed it was the elegantly dressed woman I searched
about a month ago. She looked my naked body up and down as my supervisor threw
my dress at me, telling me to put it on. Still shaken, I put on my dress and
heeled shoes and nothing else and they told me to get out of there or they would
give me another good spanking. I quickly ran passed them and walked quickly
through the maze of corridors. I felt so naked underneath. I could feel my naked
thighs rubbing together and my breasts bouncing with every step. As I turned the
last corner heading out to the parking lot, I ran into another corrections
officer. He asked me if I was ok. I did not answer him and continued out to my
car. (That man ultimately became my husband but that's is another story.) As I
sat in my car and began to drive home I could still feel my ass cheeks burning
from the spanking I received.
The next two days were my regularly scheduled days off, when I went back to work
I was not sure how I was going to act after what had happened. To my surprise,
when I got to work the tower informed me that I was to meet my new supervisor.
My former supervisor had completed her cycle and was transferred. Since then I
never forgot what happened and I also try to be easier on the women I strip
search.

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