Chapter 1
As Susan Gray was herded into the van handcuffed, she couldn't help but break down and cry.
She had just been sentenced to five years in prison for being caught consuming hashish. When she thought about it, she recognized how futile it had all been. She hadn't liked hash parties that much to start with, but she had gone with the crowd. Some of her college friends that she traveled over to Turkey with. She had been one of the knapsack carriers who had roamed the streets of Istanbul and had stayed in an inexpensive pension.
It was like a nightmare when the police broke into the hotel room. They confiscated the hash and arrested everyone. A short trial ensued, and Susan was judged guilty.
She could never forget the expression on the face of one man who had been sitting just behind her. When she had been on the witness stand seeking mercy on her own behalf, she had been unable to avoid the man's deep, anthracite stare. He had the darkest and most intense expression in his eyes of anyone that she had ever seen. The longer that he had stared at her, the more rattled she had become. Pretty soon Susan began to lose her composure on the witness stand. She began to nervously move her fingers through her hair, after which her hands began to shake. The prosecutor leaned forward at that point and exclaimed quite bluntly:
"Miss Gray, you have all the appearances of a guilty woman."
She was taken in the van to Ankara, the capital of Turkey. She was told that the prison where she would be staying was on the outskirts of Ankara. She kept thinking about this man. She was convinced that he had hurt her enormously since he had destroyed her composure. She wasn't the kind of girl who had been in much trouble at home. She had been at a few marijuana parties, and had never been the subject of a bust. She was pretty well behaved, but all it had taken was one mistake in Turkey. That one mistake was going to cost her dearly.
She remained under armed guard during the ride to Ankara. When the van ground to a halt inside the prison gates, she was led by two armed guards out of the van and inside the prison. It looked like an almost deserted dungeon. It stood out in the middle of the wilderness, in the midst of sandy dunes. The warm wind blew sand in her face as Susan squinted her eyes, then put her head down. She was just as happy to have a reason to put her head down, since she didn't really care to look up.
As the door to the prison locked ominously behind her, she said a silent farewell to the world which lay outside. She wondered just how long it would be before anyone in the United States would see her again. She wondered if they would even be allowed to hear from her. If she would be permitted the opportunity to write letters. Or, in the event that she could write them, whether they would actually be forwarded.
Susan was a tall, beautiful blonde in her early twenties. She had just graduated from college a few months earlier, and had been looking forward to going to graduate school and becoming a teacher. Now all her dreams were shattered.
She was led by the armed guards down a narrow, winding corridor into a dark, dank cell. The smell of disinfectant permeated the entire atmosphere as she entered the cell. Once again she heard the sound of a rusty door clinking shut. As the guards left, she felt totally shut off from the rest of the world.
Susan threw herself down into the small cot which would serve as her bed. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed unrestrainedly for better than an hour. After all the sobbing was done, she felt weary. After all, it had been a long journey in the hot van, and the crying had robbed her of what little strength she had left. She fell into a deep sleep, only to be awakened as nightfall approached.
"Wake up, Susan," she heard a robust man's voice say in a deep Turkish accent.
She blinked her eyes open. She could hardly believe the sight before her eyes. She stared at the man in front of her. Could it be? Or was this some kind of a nightmare? At first it was hard for her to tell, but as her eyes continued to remain focused on the shadowy image in front of her, she recognized that it was all too true. It was the same man who had intimidated her through his searing stares during the trial. The man they had referred to as Omar. She could hardly believe it, but there he was, apparently prepared to taunt her some more.
"How are you, Susan?" he asked smilingly.
He stood there wearing his same khaki uniform. He waited for a reply.
"How do you think I'd be?" she replied in a rattled, trembling voice.
"I think that your stay can be made a lot more pleasant if you will be willing cooperate," he said.
Omar reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a package of cigarettes.
"Cigarette?" he asked.
"No thank you," she replied bitterly.
Omar flipped the package of cigarettes back into his shirt pocket. He took several steps toward her. He sat down next to her on the cot. He looked into her eyes with the same kind of intensity that he had demonstrated before. During the course of the short, nightmarish trial in which she was convicted.
"You have a beautiful face," he said, "and I have seen very few blonde women. Women like you are truly a rarity in my country. I like just looking into your blue eyes. It gives me such a wonderful feeling.
I'm glad you'll be staying here."
"Just who are you?" she asked, still intimated by this dark, intense Turk.
"I'm in charge of this entire prison," he waved his right hand through the air in a majestic demonstration of power.
She flinched. Her heart began to pound nervously. It now had become all to clear to her. Omar had had a vested interest in the outcome of the trial. He would be there to taunt her as long as she remained behind bars in that particular prison.
"Don't fret, Susan," Omar said.
He threw a sweaty arm around her shoulder. She wanted to wretch. She couldn't stand having this beast touch her. At first his arm wrapped itself around her shoulders ever so softly, in an exploratory fashion. But soon he was closing in. He pressed his body quickly against hers. Omar loved the act of rubbing his khaki uniform against Susan's well-developed breasts. He held on tightly, then pushed his lips forward. Susan attempted to struggle free, but Omar quickly clamped his strong, bulging arms around her waist. He held on so tightly that she thought for a moment he was going to break her ribs. He was not about to let her get away until he had finished kissing her.
His lips pushed roughly, ever so crudely against hers. Now he was hurting her lips as well as his lips remained ever so solidly pressed against hers. She wanted so badly to scream, but she couldn't. And, even if she could, even if she had the power, who would rescue her? She was being rudely seduced by the man in charge of the prison.
He removed his lips from hers a few moments later. As he did, Omar jumped up from the cot. He burst into loud laughter. Susan lay there shaking in the cot, tears surfacing in her eyes. Her arms and legs trembled. Omar loved having her in such a subservient position. He was determined to have things his own way with this beautiful blonde. He would dominate her in every way that he could. For one thing, he couldn't stand her bitchy superior way. He knew that she hated him, and that drove him on all the more. Just who the hell did she think she was? he asked himself. Well, he would teach her. He would make her suffer. He would make her suffer in such a way that she would gladly and willingly tolerate anything that he would mete out in the way of punishment.
As Susan lay there, her whole body trembling, she couldn't help but observe the huge bulging erection in his trousers. Omar's chest popped out with a show of arrogant defiance. He was happy that he was that hard, and he wanted her to know just how much excitement he felt.
He reached down immediately with his right hand. Susan could tell by the look of urgency in his eyes just how eager Omar was to obtain some immediate satisfaction at her expense. His anxious fingers quickly manipulated against the zipper of his trousers. In fact, he was in so much of a hurry to undo his zipper that it actually took him a little longer. He struggled for a few more moments, then managed to pry the zipper loose. He shoved it all the way down, then reached impatiently inside of his shorts with both hands. He reached out and grabbed hold of his long, hard phallus. He tugged at it, pulling it out of his shorts. He moved his fingers quickly up and down the full length of his hard, enormous pecker. The quicker that his fingers skillfully manipulated against his rock-hard rod, the more intimidated that Susan became. She began to push her body back as deeply as she could as she lay there inside of her cot.
"Just look at my cock," Omar laughed loudly. "Just look at it. You're a bitch, admit it, you're an American she-bitch. You think you're better than me. Me, a poor Turk, a guy running a prison out in the middle of the desert. Yes, I guess I'm no more than something to wipe your feet on. At least that's what you think. But take a look at this cock. I've got a hard cock. You're gonna love this cock. I'm gonna make you love it."
He moved his body quickly forward. She pushed her body back against the cell wall. She finally ran out of room. Her brutal, seductive attacker kept on hurling his cock forward. He moved it toward her mouth.
"You're gonna eat this prick," he said. "Start eating, bitch. You're gonna swallow my cream. You're gonna eat every drop of it. Go ahead, start swallowing. Start swallowing, you bitch whore."
He finally pushed his body forward and let his knees come to rest on top of the cot. He extended his legs, then reached out and grabbed her by the hair. At first he just held onto her head, but when she began to slip away, he reached down and began to pull her hair. He pulled ever so sharply, and as he held onto Susan's hair, he drove his cock forward. He shoved it ever so quickly toward her open mouth.
"You're gonna swallow it, bitch," he said, continuing to clamp down ever so hard with his fingers against her strands of long, blonde hair. "I'm pouring my cock into you. I'm gonna pour it good and hard. I'm gonna blast it into your mouth."
As his cock made its initial penetration inside of Susan's mouth, she felt like throwing up. Here was this brutal demon pulling her hair, causing her to feel great pain. And while that was happening, there he was ramming his cock simultaneously into her mouth, seeking to throat fuck her until all of the thick white fluid had been released from his cock.
While his cock pressed deeper, Susan became overwhelmed with anger. She didn't care what happened to her or how subservient her position was. She was getting back at this wretched beast. She didn't even care if the bastard had her executed. Maybe it would be better to die an instantaneous death, one relatively pain free, rather than to accept the alternative, that of a prolonged death in the desert wasteland of a hot, uncomfortable Turkish prison. And all while in the process of being tortured and taunted by the crudest, most sadistic beast she had ever met in her life.
"I'm gonna unload in your mouth," Omar laughed proudly. "I'll show you, bitch. I know prison discipline. I know what it's like whether it's dealing with a bitch or with some men. It doesn't make any difference to me."
Just as he was about to push deeper with his elongated instrument, she took advantage of her last chance. She clamped down on the tip of his cock with her teeth, biting his penis. Immediately he let out a scream, his whole body propelling itself suddenly backwards.
Susan couldn't help but feel a great sense of satisfaction at know she had wounded her attacker. As his body continued to fall backwards, he let out another shout. He landed solidly on his back on the floor, and as Susan heard the loud thud, it came as music to her ears. No matter what he might do to her after that, and she felt that he would at the very least beat her up, she had at least gotten in one good assault of her own.
Much to Susan's surprise, Omar did not jump up immediately from the floor. He just lay there and shook his head. He looked down at his sore penis, reaching out with both hands and fondling it as a child would an injury. He shook his head once more, then he slowly began to pick himself up off of the floor.
"You do have spirit," he looked into her eyes with an intense expression. "I must give you credit for that."
Susan's trembling body remained poised. She was anticipating a wild attack. Perhaps he would come at her with clenched fists. She was prepared to receive anything. But instead he just turned on his heels and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind him. She could hardly believe what had happened. Did she actually convince her attacker that any further such dealings with her would be futile? She could hardly believe it. Not from a man this determined. From the expression on his face she could see just how vital it was for him to succeed sexually with her.
About an hour after Omar had left the cell, two policemen entered her cell. One of them carried her evening meal. It consisted of some dry doughy substance and a glass of warm water. Even though she hated the doughy substance and detested the warm water, she felt it was all she was going to get, so she took advantage of the situation.
After consuming her dinner, Susan became despondent once more. She began sobbing, thinking about what it would be like at home in New York City. She thought about all the complaining she had done about little things. Like having to set the alarm for six o'clock to have breakfast and attend an eight o'clock class at school. That had all seemed so difficult for her then, but now she would gladly accept anything like that without so much as a squawk. It was amazing how one incident like the one which was confronting her now could change her to such an extent.