Thread: El Cereso Prison (Steel Butterfly & Adam)

Joanne had not joined in the laughter - of course she had not. Instead, the still furious woman found herself clenching her jaws at his stinging remark and flashes of the past few week momentarily flooded her feverish mind anew. The panoramic view behind the laughing man, too, triggered memories. Its view almost seemed designed to mock the newcomers, to punish criminals for their crimes by showing them what they had lost. Cruel. Crude. Like the man's snide remark. Even if she had somehow been able to appreciate the grim and dark humor in his mocking remark, the smile would have faded the moment her eyes caught sight of.. A human. A human female, curled up under the creep's desk like a pet. Or no, not like a pet. An actual pet. Because the naked woman responded exactly like a pet her every manner and detail reminiscent of an animal and above all, breathing submissiveness. It was almost as if her human appearance, her unnatural breasts and dyed hair - as if all of it was nothing but mere details, intended to confuse the observer and tricking him into thinking that the creature underneath the desk was indeed a human. The manner in which she - it? - allowed herself - itself? - to be treated shocked Joanna, who watched the proceedings with a mixture of disgust and shock. And anger, slowly creeping onto her cheeks. All of these emotions were visible in her fierce green eyes when the man in the black suit directed his attentions towards her again. All of them - even though Joanne tried to disguise her shock and disgust at least somewhat. Part of her felt an intense compassion towards the thing - human - for even the former journalist had to remind herself that it was a human being underneath that desk. The deep red markings on the woman's skin had told Joanne that the woman had most likely not willingly surrendered herself. How could anyone willingly surrender to such a horrid existence? The mere thought of the beatings which this woman no doubt had suffered before she was broken was enough to infuriate Joanna again. Indeed, there was very little she needed to fuel her rage, very little nourishment was required to feed her anger. And this was more than very little. This was shocking. And yet, the man's words would paint an even bleaker picture. He never detailed the exact role of the women or in what precise ways the so called 'special' system of this prison worked. Still, his words were enough to leave a grim impression on the young female. As she continued to look him in the eye, forcing herself not to look away no matter how vile his suggestions were, she felt grateful for the many shocking interviews which she had had. While none of the interviews could ever have prepared her for this, she could draw on her professional experience at least somewhat. She was unable to keep all of the emotion out of her face - far from able even, but she would not cry nor shout. Her hands might have clenched themselves into frustrated, angry fists more than once throughout his talking, but she would not shake or tremble. No fear. Joanne would not give the man such satisfaction, she decided. Thus, it was despite her creeping fear that she spoke up, straightening her back. She kept her own bright eyes locked with those dark orbs as she faced him. She would not find herself servicing this man or showing him any sort of affection, let alone lick his fingers in a sickening fashion. Take me to my cell. Her voice was calm, surprisingly calm even given her outrage. And especially given the slight hints of fear which had crept into her very bones the moment she had seen the little pet. Yes, her voice had been calm. Brave. But where would that calm and bravery take her..?