Chapter 11
Connie truly hated the anal assault that she was experiencing. However, she felt in no position to do much about it.
"Fuck, fuck," he told her. "Ohhh, yes, yes. That's how you do it. Come on, fuck it off."
It felt wonderful to the guard to have his plunging cock pulled in like quicksand in her tight, sizzling, anal hole. Connie had not been fucked here enough to make her loose. This was what the guard hoped for. He wanted a tight, hot screw and he was getting it.
"Fuck, fuck," he exclaimed passionately. "Fuck, fuck!"
Rhythmically he was riding and sliding up her tight anal orifice. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she endured the torture of his stabbing, hard cock.
"Ohhh," Connie groaned in despair as she felt his mammoth manhood ramming up her hot asshole.
It was strange how after the obscene attack of his thick penis stabbing up her ravished asshole without mercy, she could detect a measure of pleasure. It bothered her that such an obscenity could be satisfying.
In response to the prison guard's trusty, hard, deep strokes, Connie shoved back. She wanted to feel him inserting his hot rapier prick ever deeper up her asshole.
"Fuck it," he told her. "Fuck. Ohhh, yes.. .yes. Fuck it, fuck it."
It was a form of keen, erotic pleasure that made Connie throw her sizzling, thrusting ass in gear.
"I want it," he cried passionately. "Fuck, bitch, fuck."
Connie kept her tail twisting in time to his riding, sliding shaft.
"Ohhh," the prison guard shuddered as he finished fucking her all the way.
He thrust his rigid driving dick in and out of her cum-slick butt a couple more times. He wanted to derive every measure of pleasure he could from her body.
"You are a very beautiful girl," he told her.
He slapped her ass cheeks crudely and then left her alone. Connie felt a sense of despair sweeping over her. It seemed as if she would never get out of prison. She was ushered back to her cell and this time the girl who had no character at all was sitting there, opening a box of chocolates. Connie knew that she probably bribed the men with her body to get the luxuries she wanted in prison. She had a small transistor radio and didn't seem to be hating the life in prison the way Connie was. Of course, the reason being the fact the girls were of different character.
Connie wrote to her mother again and there was no reply. It was becoming a futile situation. Two weeks later the prison warden had her in his office again. He said that he had been asked to question her further regarding her connection with the heroin that was in the airplane. With a tragic expression in her eyes, Connie shook her head gravely.
"I don't know anything about it," she repeated.
That didn't satisfy the warden. He paced the floor like a Nazi gestapo commander.
"You haven't satisfied me at all," he told her. "Lies, refusals, what am I going to do with you?"
His eyes glanced toward his whips again. Connie knew what intense pleasure he derived from using his whips on her bare body.
"Please, don't hurt me anymore," she begged.
Instead of making him feel good that she was begging for mercy, it infuriated him. For with her request came a charge. A charge that he was treating her without any consideration.
"Are you saying I am mistreating you?" he asked, slamming his fist on his desk in a fury.
Connie remained silent now.
"Nothing could be further from the truth," he declared.
To make his point, he went to his whips.
"Now if I were to ask you to take off all of your clothes and used my whips on you, that might be cruel. Some men do that, you know. Let me just give you a sample of what wrong treatment would be like."
Connie didn't completely understand what the prison warden had in mind. But he left no doubt as to what he had in mind when he told her a second later, 'Take your clothes off."
She removed her clothes, then stood before him dejected, naked and full of despair. He came over to her and let his whip gently caress her beautiful ripe bosoms.
"You have such a lovely body," the prison warden acknowledged, "that it would be a shame to scar it. It would be a shame to do it. But if you don't let me help you, other men who have less character might try to force the truth from you with more persuasion."
Connie wondered if there could be anyone more sadistic, brutal, cruel or vicious than this warden. Not only was he humiliating her like this, but he was attempting to make her feel grateful for the mercy that he wasn't showing.
In a blind fury the warden let the whip lash across her breasts and across her thighs. Connie felt helpless now.
"Stop, please, stop," she begged.
The prison warden was just becoming revved up. His stiff loins were heating up as he watched her cringe in fear and observed the red slashes on her body that the whip was creating.
'Turn around," he finally said, his voice husky with lusty, erotic arousal.
Reluctantly, Connie turned around. She knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to jack off while he whipped her. Sure enough, as she glanced over her shoulder she saw him unzipping his fly. Pulling out his long stiff cock, he continued letting the whip bite into her beautiful white ass globes. Connie had learned not to flinch or weep. That might create trouble. For it would interrupt the passionate flow of pleasure that the prison warden was obtaining. He would have to come over and clamp a hand over her mouth. That would require him to either drop his whip or his cock. And she would be blamed for subtracting from his pleasure time.
So Connie bravely stood there and let him lash her trembling body with his stinging whip. "Stop it, stop it!" she begged finally. He was panting now. His cock was hard. As Connie turned around she saw him holding his steaming prick out for her.
"Crawl over here on your knees," he told her.
Crawling on her knees, she was finally confronted with his massive penis. He held it out to her as the tip of it dripped with cum.
"Worship it," he said seriously.
If there was anything Connie hated, it was the hypocrisy of this tragic situation. To worship a man she despised was indeed torture.
"Worship my cock," he insisted.
Connie let her pink tongue lick the tip. The crystal bead of cum didn't taste bad. She let her mouth swallow the head of his shaft. That pleased the prison warden enormously. Reaching out now, he forced her farther down on his erect manhood.
"I want to throat fuck you," he said.
Having see the picture, "Deep Throat," he had wanted to have a throat fuck ever since. He plunged it down Connie's throat, enjoying every erotic moment.
"Ohhh," he groaned as he let her mouth slide all the way.
Only his balls rode on her chin and her lips. Obviously deriving an enormous amount of pleasure from what he was doing, he gripped her head firmly.
"Suck me, suck me," he whispered.
As the prison warden came close to climax, he insisted that Connie eat him. She wanted to spit his sperm on the floor. Connie wanted to bite his cock, to inflict pain and injury on him. However, she was required at this tragic point in her sorry life to provide pleasure for the prison warden. She had to mouth his penis and carry him to the heights of erotic ecstasy so he could shoot his wad in her mouth and observe her sucking him off.
"Eat me," he cried anxiously. "Eat me."
Connie tried her best to suck and swallow his thick cum load.
"Ohhh," he exclaimed excitedly, "suck me. Suck me."
Connie's lips fastened firmly on his trusty, sliding shaft. She slurped lasciviously on his rigid manhood.
"Suck me off," he told her. "Suck."
The delicious thrills that tingled through his body had him completely turned on.
"Ohhh," he groaned in a frenzy, "eat me. Suck it off."
The hot, white cum shot down Connie's throat when the prison warden got it there. She tickled and massaged his inflated balls, holding them cupped in her hand, trying to provide him with the last bit of erotic pleasure.
Swallowing his juicy, shooting cum load pleased him enough so that when she got to her feet he didn't say anything else to her but to get dressed. Connie put on her clothes and went back to her cell.
When she was working in the laundry the next day with the girl who obviously had no character, she got to talking to her.
"We're the only two American girls in here," the girl smiled, "and we ought to be friends. My name is Helen. What's yours, dear?'"
At first Connie didn't want to communicate with her. However, she thought better about it later. It was true, they were the only two American girls in the prison and they might as well be friends.
"Connie," she answered.
"Connie," Helen shook her head grimly, "this is a hell-hole. But what can a girl do? I was caught red-handed with pot. I guess I just have to pay the price. But there are some nice people here."
Connie narrowed her eyes. She wanted to cut loose with a volley of oaths to demonstrate what she thought of the place. However, there was a guard standing close to them as if he were trying to eavesdrop.
"Yes, it is rather nice here," Connie smiled nervously.
The guard grinned as he realized Connie was lying through her teeth.
The girl continued talking to Connie about her past.
"I was homecoming queen at college," she told Connie.
"How nice, but remote now," Connie shook her head. "We're stuck here, honey, and there's nothing anybody can do."
Helen had to admit that she deserved what she got. "I guess I'm just a rebel girl," she told Connie frankly, "and I've never done anything right. I was even playing around with my father at home."
Connie was shocked to think that anyone could be of such low character as to carry on with their own parent.
'That's grim," she said flatly. Helen caught on that Connie was not very sympathetic to her weaknesses. "Nobody's perfect," Helen asserted. Connie nodded. "You can say that again."
About that time the guard broke up their conversation.
"It's time you two girls did more work," he insisted. "You're just talking around here and wasting time."
Connie thought that was plenty gross.
"Sorry to bother you," she declared.
The guard proved to be quite a bother. He ushered Connie back to her cell.
"I take it you don't like it around here," he smiled.
Connie was tired and hot and she didn't mind if she did tell him what she thought.
"Who the hell would like it here?" she asked him bluntly.
The guard laughed at her integrity and honesty of response.
"Well, that's an honest answer," he said.
Once she was in her cell, he told her what he wanted.
"I'd like to screw your pussy," he told her.
Connie was exhausted.
"Another day," she suggested.
The guard didn't feel that way about it. He was reaching down to gently massage his bulging crotch.
"I can't wait another day," he said under his breath.
It didn't take him long to slip his stiff long penis from his pants and give her a view of it. When Connie saw what he had between his quivering legs, she realized he did have a big problem that needed taking care of. Pronto.
Connie had become so used to undressing for sex now that she felt almost like a two-bit tramp.
"When I get out of here I'll know how to turn a trick in Vegas," she smiled without humor.
The guard didn't understand exactly what Connie was talking about. He wondered if she was trying to give him some subtle insult.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I just said I've had an education for Las Vegas, where prostitution and gambling are big."
Connie was naked now and she lay sprawled on the floor with her inviting creamy legs spread. Soon the guard was sprawled out over her. Connie was hardly prepared for the lusty sexual feelings that were surging through the guard now. He began by licking her warm ripe bosoms and sucking on her distended nipples. He worked down to her crotch. He sucked on her hungrily there and finally managed to slide his rigid manhood in her velvety slit. He plunged in a few times, enjoying every moment of it.
"You've got a nice, tight pussy," he whispered in a husky tone.
He continued slashing his sturdy phallic rifle into her hot pussy slit. Connie loathed him, but she accepted it. He wasn't undressed. He had just pulled his fleshy tool from his pants and still had his prison guard uniform on.
As he straddled over her, she reached for his olive-skinned ass cheeks. She let her hand slip under him so she could feel of his bare buttocks. This pleased the guard. When she slipped her finger up his asshole that pleased him even more.
Connie's pussy muscles grabbed at his sliding, hard shaft. She squeezed the rigid cock.
"Fuck me," she begged him, "fuck me."
With determination and drive he went on slicing hard in her. Connie responded by letting her twitching pussy muscles grab at his sliding manhood. She knew that it wouldn't be much longer until he was unloading his thick cum in her hot mound.
By giving him the impression that she was really enjoying it, the guard got so excited that he momentarily pulled his slippery cock from her hot, juicy jole and then removed his clothes. Now that he was naked, he figured he could enjoy sex with Connie even more. He was eager to press his naked flesh against her naked body.
His hairy chest thrust against her beautiful snowy bosoms. The guard's hot hands gripped Connie's ass cheeks as he guided her and screwed her at the same time.
Connie enjoyed getting fucked by him. He was giving her a wild ride.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she panted.
With deep, hard strokes he slid into her. She was enjoying it more every moment.
"Ohhh," she groaned in a frenzy, "give it to me."
He went on thrusting inside of her. She was so hot now she could hardly stand it.
"Ohhh," he groaned, "fuck, fuck."
The delicious thrills that tingled through his body as her hands massaged and clasped his supercharged buttocks while he pumped it to her had him almost climaxing. But he held back. He wanted to make it last.
When he did get his rocks off, he stabbed in deep. He shoved in hard and looked at her lustfully as he finished exploding.
Connie felt herself juicing when he came. It was obvious to the guard that this was one young, female prisoner who apparently was oversexed and enjoyed getting balled.
Pulling his trusty cock from her slippery twat, he smiled at her. He patted her affectionately as some of his cum juice dripped on her naked body.
Connie lay there after he had gone. She was still naked. To her surprise and amazement this was one man she had enjoyed balling with. And this affected her even worse. She had thought Helen was a terrible person for carrying on with the guards as if she enjoyed their advances. Now she was reaching the point where she enjoyed it herself. Being in prison was not as horrifying as she had thought it would be.
It had been a marvelous, erotic adventure for her. And Connie would not soon forget how much she enjoyed it.
When she did get dressed and had her evening meal, she felt no shame. She had come to accept the fact that sexual feeling was as normal as eating. After all, she reasoned, why shouldn't a woman enjoy it? Then she connected her guilt feelings with her mother's religious fanaticism. It was this fanaticism that had brought her to the point where she was now, she realized. If she had given in to her boyfriend, she reasoned, all of the problems that subsequently fouled up her life would not have occurred.
In desperation, Connie wrote another letter to her mother and told her what she thought of her.
"Dear mom. Thanks a lot for nothing. I got to thinking it over while I was living in this hell-hole that you were really the cause of my problems. When I would go out with my boyfriend, you would keep telling me I would be an evil, wicked girl if I gave him sex. As a consequence, I lost him. Hurt and confused I took any job that I could. The money was little and the opportunity to turn tricks was great. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to turn a few tricks and augment my income. I did and wound up here. For I had not learned true discrimination between right and wrong. It is wrong not to love when you feel something. It is wrong to make love when you feel nothing. That's all there is to it. You have to live with yourself. I found I can do that now. I enjoy being honest with myself. And I think you were a miserable mom. So I had to write and tell you how terrible I honestly thought you were. Good luck and I hope you don't foul up anybody else's life. Your daughter, sincerely, Connie."
Connie was not afraid to let her mother know the truth. She had let it all hang out and she was glad.
The torture that she had endured by blaming herself for all of her problems was more than she could take and more than she had to take.
It was strange now how everything seemed different to her. She sort of looked forward to the sexual encounters. Connie didn't care for the pain and torture that some of the men seemed to enjoy making her endure. But she had to remember that in their work they were accustomed to dealing with rough characters who would kill them if they weren't following their orders precisely. This was the situation she was in and Connie realized its dangers fully.