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you’ll never do,” sneered the guard.
    “You’ll never do this, because you’re too scared,” laughed Clare as she suddenly peeled her top off. Underneath she was naked. She cast the t-shirt down and lifted her arms up, laughing at the scarlet face of the guard.
    “Stop that, put your clothes back on!” he demanded. “That’s against regulation five seven three, sub section four nine one!”
    Clare responded by pulling her skirt off. She stood totally naked apart from her heavy boots. “Fuck regulation five seven three,” she shouted in jubilation. “This is why we’re free! We’re free of your restraint, your codes, your oppression. You may control our lives, but you don’t control our bodies or our minds!”
    “You tell ‘em, babe,” grinned Kyle. “This is the spirit of the Woodstock Company 2145 all over again!”
    “Put your clothes on, you’re unsettling the other inmates,” snapped the guard.
    We could already hear the shouts and laughter from the other prisoners as they guessed what was going on.
    “Yeah, fear the power we have,” shouted Clare. “You want to stop us? How are you going to? We’re not conditioned to obey your laws! We have free will! Who agrees?” She thumped her fists repeatedly on the steel door, causing a low, dull strum to fill the air.
    “Yeah, testify, sister!” shouted a voice down the corridor. More banging of fists could be heard, setting up a dark rhythm that pounded around the area, a crashing drum beat of rebellion and defiance.
    “Stop that!” screamed the guard, but the noise was so intense, the cheers and shouts so loud that his words and authority were lost. The hatch slammed down and a red warning light came on in the cell.
    “Lockdown,” bleated an electronic voice from the speaker system. “This facility is on lockdown!”
    A fresh cheer went up from the prisoners. Cries of “Let’s party!” and “Beat the system” echoed around the metal cages.
    “This is freedom,” shouted Kyle. “Self-determination, rebellion against the state, never letting them break you! Free will!”
    “Free will!” roared other voices, the drum beat increasing.
    “Paaarrrrtey!” yelled a dozen more voices.
    “What’s going on?” I asked incredulously.
    “Rebellion of the mind, rebellion of the body!” shouted Clare. “We’ve had control taken from our lives, but we can control our bodies and our thoughts. We can act how we want, not how we’re told. Free bodies, free minds!”
    “Free bodies, free minds!” shouted the mob, the drumbeat getting louder, sensual, more dangerous.
    Clare whirled round and grabbed Kyle around the head before crushing her lips against his.
    He reacted to the embrace, running his hands over her hot body, feeling her ass, her thighs, her hips.
    “Join the revolution,” gasped Clare, holding a hand out to me. “Rebellion against oppression!”
    I was confused, scared and with the sensual drumbeat and the gorgeous, nearly naked body of Clare in front of me, plus the hard muscles of Kyle yet to be undone, I was feeling damn horny as well. Scared horny but still horny.

Chapter Seven
    The sensual drumming of the forbidden beat being rapped out on the walls of the prison, the act of rebellion, the act of taking control, all worked on me, taking me to a higher sensual pitch I’d ever known. Finding freedom when trapped in a small cell, finding space within my own mind that overcame the limited space of my surroundings worked on me, heightening my sensations, tastes and feelings. The beat pounded my ears and sent shivers down my body, making my nipples extend and engorge, the tips quivering in time with the beat.
    The white of the prison wall was such an intense colour, it almost blinded me. The smell of Clare’s body filled my nose. Kyle pulled his top off. The sight of his flat torso and intricate tattoo design around his abdomen filled my vision until the tattoo almost seemed to move, winding its way sensually over his