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Dr. Hooters #35: Julia Regina, Imperatrix Mundi


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.

Dr. Hooters Pt. XXXV
Julia Regina, Imperatrix Mundi

Captain Morrison ran her short, tar-stained fingers through her
thick black hair. "I have to admit that physically, you appear
to be, uh, equal to the task. The job, however, rarely requires
physical toughness. Mental toughness, actually, is more desire-
able, due to the extreme isolation of the camp and the naturre of
the inmates whom you'll be supervising."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, thought Julie, blah, blah, blah. Just give me
the job, bitch. What she said, though, was different- "All I'm
asking for is a chance to prove myself, Captain Morris", she
said, smiling sweetly.

"I'm going to recommend you to Superintendent Anderson for the
job", the captain said, "And I want you to be at the Mercer camp
by noon Thursday for orientation. Come prepared to stay. That's
all I've got to say." Then the captain forced a smile and ex-
tended her hand. "Welcome to the team!"

Julie took the captain's hand in her own ham-sized one, and ap-
plied just enough pressure to let the captain know who she was
dealing with.

"You gotta hell of a grip there, Heatherwick. I can tell it'll
be good to have you on our side", the captain exclaimed wanly.
Julie stood up, immediately filling the room with her presence.
At six-foot-eleven, she tended to own her immediate environment
aggressively, and the captain took note of this. Then Julie
turned and left the office.

"Phew!", whistled the captain. "I need a cigarette!"

Leaving the legislature-ordered smoke-free administration build-
ing, she saw Superintendent Anderson striding up the walk. She
signalled him over.

"Hey, Captain Morris!", he greeted her, "How's the interviewing
going for that slot at Mercer?"

Captain Morris blew a cloud of smoke in the opposite direction.
"Hi, Sir", she replied. "I've decided to give the job to Julie
Heatherwick."

"The big girl from Florida, right?", the Superintendent asked.

"Big isn't the word for it, sir", the captain replied. "There
she goes over there, by the parking lot. You can see for your-
self." The Superintendent looked in that direction, and saw the
huge redheaded woman stoop over to climb into her Voyager van.

"Not unattractive though", admitted the Superintendent, "for such
a big woman."

"Another understatement, sir", added the captain. "She's more
along the lines of drop-dead gorgeous. Still, I wish I could
shake this feeling I've got..." She took another deep drag on
her cigarette.

"What's that, Captain?"

"I've been in this business twenty-four years, Supeintendent. I
retire next April. In this line of work, you gotta be able to
read people. And that redhead is the most dangerous female I've
ever laid eyes on. She makes those man-cutters and crack-dealers
we got up at Mercer look like a bunch of church ladies!"

"Do you have anything to back up this hunch?", the superintendent
asked, his eyes narrowing.

"That's just it, sir", the captain continued. "There's nothing
in her background that suggests anything of the sort. Do you
know what job she had before? Head of a research lab in Miami
Florida! She lost that job 'cause she took off all her clothes
and danced on the table at her recertification hearing!"

"Head of a research lab, huh? A mad scientist?"

"She's got a Ph. D.", the captain said, sticking Julie's file un-
der the superintendent's nose. "Here, check for yourself. I
wonder why she wants to be a prison officer in the boondocks of
North Carolina!"

"Probably had a thing for some guy down there", assumed the su-
perintendent. "Most of those guys are faggots down there in Mia-
mi, or so they say. She needs some time in the woods to do some
thinking, and maybe she'll meet a real Carolina man while she's
at it!" He hitched his pants up and ran his hand over his thin-
ning hair.

"She's got a nice set, too", he added. "Nice boobs and an ad-
vanced degree? Take her on as a sargeant, OK?"

The shit you say, you asshole, the captain thought. Someday, one
of these little gals with a little law-work and a laptop comput-
er's gonna hang your ass for sexual harassment. But it won't be
Captain Morris. No ma'am. Just give me five acres and my pen-
sion. She sighed deeply. "As you say, sir."

The Mercer Forestry Camp for Female Offenders was isolated as
Julie could imagine anything being. Forty Miles outside of Mer-
cer into the National Forest, she turned left onto road marked
only by a small sign indicating the prison's whereabouts.
Twelve miles up this road, there was another sign indicating a
gravel road along a powerline. The camp was twenty miles up this
road, as close to the middle of nowhere as humanly possible.

Julie parked the van in the prison parking lot, and reported to
the low administration building for orientation. She learned the
ins and outs of life at the Camp; there was a tour of the turpen-
tine mill, the food service area, the inmates' dormitories, and
the officers' quarters. She learned that there were two shifts
at the Camp, the morning shift which supervised the inmates while
they worked, and the night shift, which supervised them in the
eveniongs and at night while they relaxed and slept.

As a new sergeant, Julie had a lot of responsibility. Most of
the officers under her command had been working at the Camp for
four or five years. Uneducated, surly, and resentful, they
avoided any semblance of work, and were often harsh and brutal to
the inmates under their supervision. Julie left them to their
own devices, mostly.

The inmates were a mixed bag. These were supposedly the most vi-
cious and incorrigible female inmates in the whole prison sys-
tem, but Julie found them to be quite agreeable and quite
amenable to her control. Of course, most of them played by the
same rules she did, which made understanding easier between the
new sergeant and the convicts under her supervision.

For Julie learned quickly that, whereas in prison there is a vis-
ible, clearly defined hierarchy of officers, sergeants, lieu-
tenants, captains, and majors, there is a parallel hierarchy
which is much more important, but which is not quite so visible.
Power and influence flowed along this informal hierarchy much
more regularly, and much more predictably, than along the offi-
cial one.

It was at the top of this shadow hierarchy that Julie decided to
position herself. Her first opportunity came on her second day
on the job. Two inmates, a white girl named Cathy Evans, who
Julie had been told operated a loan-sharking business in one of
the dorms, and Yolanda, supposedly an enforcer for one of the
black gangs, staged a fight outside Julie's post.

Word about the huge new sergeant had gotten around the Camp, and
the inmates were eager to test her mettle. Would she be a by-
the-book type (one who followed the rules to the letter, abso-
lutely the worst by convict standards), a ball-buster (one who
used the officer's position and privilege for her own profit and
benefit, and hence, someone you could do business with), or a
fuck-girl (someone easily intimidated or manipulated, a joy to
the convicts' heart)?

By the time Julie had responded to the hue and cry outside her
station, a considerable crowd had gathered to give the 'fight'
the illusion of reality. It didn't take Julie long to realize
that the whole thing was staged for ther benefit. Interracial
incidents were incindiary in the prison environment, and quickly
led to riots or general melees. She waded into the crowd of in-
mates, thrusting aside those who impeded her progress, grabbed
the two protagonists by the collars of their blue uniforms, and
straight-armed them to eye-level.

She shook Yolanda, a big black woman, uglier than the night-toads
that hopped along the perimeter roads after sundown. "I want you
to cut this out right now, Yolanda!", she shouted. then she
pulled her close and whispered into her ear. "And I want ten
percent of all the protection money, in fives and ones, in an en-
velope in my trailer every Friday! Understand?" Yolanda's mouth
dropped open, and she nodded her head. Julie dropped her to the
ground.

Then she turned her attention to Cathy, as pretty as Yolanda was
ugly, and pushed her easily over her head with one arm until she
dangled in mid air, legs flailing four feet off the ground. "And
you, slut! I don't want no shit on my shift! You all fight on
Sergeant Pevensey's shift, not mine."

Pulling Cathy's terrified face to within inches of her own, Julie
whispered sweetly to her. "You're my kind of girl, Sweety-pie.
Good-looking and vicious. I'm gonna change your life, but right
now I want twenty percent of the action, off the top, and rates
are going from sixty cents on the dollar to eighty. Understand?"
She shook Cathy like a terrier shakes a rat, then threw her three
feet into the mass of inmates. "Officer Moon!", she yelled,
"Where are those Use Of Force forms?"

This display of strength impressed the whole Camp, officers and
convicts alike. It wasn't long before Julie was the boss of the
camp in all but name. Old loyalties shifted, ancient alliances
realigned, and soon, not a transaction was undertaken, not a fa-
vor was sought, not a drop of liquor was sold, nor a young new
inmate violated, but that Julie got her share right off the top.

Major Testaverde, the titular Chief at the camp, appreciated the
efficiency and order that Julie brought to his compound, and or-
dered all hands to cooperate with the new system. It left him
free to work on his golf swing, and, truth be told, the inmates
were safer and quieter under Julie's unofficial suzerainty than
under the old arrangement of competing gangs.

Julie asked that Yolanda be given the post of her own private do-
mestic, cleaning her trailer and keeping the grounds. Major Tes-
taverde OK'd it, and Yolanda practically moved in with the new
boss. It made it easy for Julie to keep up with the collection
of money from the various operations behind the fence, and soon
the hideously ugly Yolanda became equally feared as Julie's lieu-
tenant.


 
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