Prisoner 143's Lover (girlxgirl, lesbian story)

Chapter 3

Here at the institution, the reform and rehabilitation program consisted of multiple areas of training. Once considered 'safe' and adequately subservient, the girls would take part in activities that aided the running of the facility, and gave them practice for the posts they would eventually be sent to.

Cleaning, Laundry, Cooking, Serving, Gardening, etc. Each came with varying safety requirement levels, and every prisoner had to work their way up to prove they were in no way a threat. And of course, incidents of subordination or violence would have negative consequences, for them as well as their training level.

Alongside this, the prisoners had to be kept fit, active, in good, healthy condition. There was frequent fitness training, regular tests, inspections, and each girl was monitored carefully.

143 was not technically on the reform program. Confessing, and then renouncing allegiance to the enemy was a qualifying prerequisite, and as 143 had done neither of those, she couldn't advance through the training in the same way, even if she had been categorised 'broken'.

Still, she couldn't be left in her cell with nothing to do. 143 engaged in the fitness activities, and most of the low threat level chores.

This morning, she would be mopping floors with some of the new low-levels. It was dull, tedious, and barely any of these girls would say a word. Having recently been 'converted', most of them had suffered a great deal of torture and brainwashing, rendering them quiet, practically catatonic.

The young blonde dragged her mop across the floor lazily, her mind was elsewhere. The morning's events were playing through her head, her curiosity growing. 143 wanted to ask someone about that woman, one of the nicer guards, maybe. But she knew that being allowed to ask questions like that was beyond her 'status'.

143 stretched her arms, looking forward to the exercise regime later on. It was the only thing at the facility that gave her some semblance of freedom.

Yaneka Xylander studied the prisoner in front of her. She was quite young, with dark hair and light eyes, her arms and ankles were strapped to the chair she had been moved into.

The girl was crying. Well, just starting to stifle tears. She had only been brought in a couple of weeks ago, and so the interrogation process was still in full swing. By the way her head hung limply, Yaneka felt certain that they would soon extract a confession.

The Hauptmann's blue eyes glanced over to the Lieutnant in charge of the interrogation.

"Lange, She is starting to give information?"

"Yes, Hauptmann.... But there is a lot she refuses to answer." This officer was roughly the same age as Yaneka, maybe a little older. She was renowned for her harsh methods, and quick results.

Hptmn Xylander looked back at the girl, feeling confident that she would soon give in, and that when they achieved the final result this would all have been for her own good.

"Good. We'll keep her in interrogation longer."

Yaneka, despite her jurisdiction, did not directly involve herself in the interrogation of suspects. The Hauptmann believed in the process and the program, but when it came to the very real act of torturing someone, she just couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

She knew how to intimidate, how to install fear, how to make someone believe that she was capable of brutal violence. But when it came down to it...

Still, she was Hauptmann. She had subordinates who could carry out these kind of tasks for her, whilst she oversaw the process. So what did it matter?

The brunette officer made a note of her observations and conclusions, before handing the prisoner's file back to Lietnant Lange.

"Have her taken back to her cell, give her the rest of the day to reflect and then continue tomorrow."