Chapter 6

Dr. Vincent's diagnosis for Willis was a massive heart attack and the prognosis was dim.

"Frankly, gentlemen," the doctor addressed the convicts in a clipped tone that indicated it was impossible for him not to be pompous when he was practicing his trade, "your leader will probably be the only one of you who is not captured and returned to prison."

"How so, Doc?"

"If he's not rushed to an intensive-care unit within the next ten minutes, he'll be dead inside of an hour."

It was their move. And adding to their consternation, they didn't like this doctor one bit. All he'd done for them was snag an easy piece of pussy off their hostage and then tell them their leader was as good as a corpse.

These convicts were the simple kind of folk who believe that bad tidings are the responsible of the bearer. If somebody tells you something you don't want to know, blame him.

"You sure you're tellin' us the truth?" Dr. Vincent was given a final chance to save himself, but he was too arrogant to recognize the opportunity.

"I am a medical doctor," he announced. "If I say this man is going to die, then you can believe he is going to die."

Three guns appeared simultaneously and fired as one. Dr. Vincent fell to the floor with three bloody holes clustered at his heart.

As I looked at my gynecologist's corpse on the kitchen floor, I thought of how it could so easily be me. There was no doubt about it, I'd taken some awful chances with these maniacs so far this morning. It was clear that my longevity was a particularly touchy proposition. Probably being an attractive woman who was willing to fuck was all that had saved me so far.

Then it hit me. I had just stumbled onto it by accident. Maybe there was something more powerful than guns.

Sex! Apparently the only force by which the guns in men's hands could be superseded was the uncontrollable hardness of their cocks. Perhaps they would not unconditionally lay down their arms for a good fuck, but at least they would temporarily uncock the hammers.

The message was clear. If I wanted to save myself, I'd have to get even sexier. The errors I'd made so far were in omission, not commission. In order to survive, I'd have to behave hornier than ever.

I had just reached this conclusion when a couple of the convicts picked up Dr. Vincent's body at either end and carried it to the laundry room. Hurling it inside like a sack of dirty clothes, they apparently threw my dead gynecologist all the way to the wall, where he splatted with a thud.

I walked forward just enough to peer inside for one last look at my late doctor. What I expected to see was bad enough-but what I actually witnessed was horrible.

Vincent hadn't landed against the wall at all. The splatting thud had occurred when he collided with the delivery boy, who was equally dead. Half of his brains had already dribbled out of the hole between his eyes.

These convicts were monsters. They'd kill a man at the drop of a hat. Thank God, I was a woman!

I had given up on any help from the outside. From here on in, I could assume nothing. The only person who could save me was me.

It was imperative that I erase my mind of the terrible fate of the delivery boy and Dr.

Vincent. I couldn't be distracted by sentiment. If I was to survive I had to be just as hard and callous as my captors. Perhaps even temporarily behave as though I were one of them.

"Forget about those turkeys," I made my voice hard and my conscience nonexistent.

"They're out of the game, now. It's just you and me, boys." This was the last type of thing they expected to hear from me. I had them suddenly nervous and decided to pour it on.

"Same with Willis," I gestured toward their leader's crumpled form at the other end of the kitchen. "He doesn't look so big and bad in a heap like that, does he?"

Their expressions turned from surprise to anger. The trick now was to wave the red flag with absolute precision.

"Boys, boys," I said, "you're getting so tense. I think you fellows need a break. After all, breaking out of jail is demanding work—you deserve a break as much as any fat-ass clerk."

"What did you have in mind, bitch?" one of them asked suspiciously, his trigger-finger itching.

"What do you think?" I flippantly answered and then boldly turned my back on my abductors and flounced out the door.

They couldn't believe it. My cheekiness had thrown them for a loop.

"In here, boys," I called from the bedroom, where I was settling myself on the bed in the most provocative position possible.

They appeared en masse at the doorway. The way I had contorted myself, about all they could see of me was my hairily gaping cunt.

"Clerks have to settle for a coffee-break," I cooed. "You outlaws can have a sex-break.

Fuck me!"

They froze for a moment and then all hell broke loose. Moving as a gang toward my wantonly inviting body, they left a trail of drool in their wake.

They all seemed to hit the bed at once, swarming all over me. No inch of my bare anatomy was spared from some kind of pinch or probe.

"No, no—wait," I had the courage to say.

"Whaddaya talkin' about?" somebody incredulously wanted to know.

"I want you take me one at a time," I stated my proposition. "That way I can, uh, get to know each of you better."

Which was exactly the truth. By individualizing my captors, I would be able to deal with them with more finesse. And fucking them one at a time was the most efficient way to get acquainted.

"Just think," I tried to sell them on the idea. "No pushing and shoving like before.

Everybody gets to take his time and fuck just the part of me that he wants to. No sharing and no second choices."

I knew I had succeeded when they all withdrew from the bed and huddled at its edge, conducting a hasty election as to who would go first. They had bought it.

They were all so anti-social, though, that they couldn't agree on anything. If I didn't intervene, a fist-fight might break out. Anything could happen in a melee like that, especially to me.

"Let me decide," I interrupted their futile deliberation. "You'll all have your chance in the long-run, so why not have a little fun in the meantime?"

All right, they'd do it. My gamble had worked. I was becoming more and more influential.

I pretended to think about my choice, but it was fake. I knew all the time I was going to choose the kid. Not only was he the best looking, but also seemed to have the most brains to pick. He was my candidate for Willis' replacement.

"You," I finally ended the suspense, pointing to the kid. "Beauty before age."

The gang laughed at this inane witticism and pushed their youngest member my way. Like a Venus fly-trap I snagged him and pulled up into the maw of my succulence.

"What's your name?" I asked him, as I was fitting his hard cock into my cunt.

"Johnny," he said, while making his initial phallic thrust. "Johnny Otis."

"Have you ever killed anybody, Johnny?" I inquired without batting an eyelash, composure that was made doubly hard by the cock-head now entering my womb.

"Are you kiddin'?" he responded defensively. "Didn't you see what I did to that damn doctor?"

Come to think of it, he had been one of my late gynecologist's killers.

"Have you ever wasted anybody on your own? All by yourself with nobody to back you up?"

I don't know what I expected his answer to be, but surely nothing as shocking as what materialized.

"Sure-" he said.

My heart leaped in anticipation. "Who?"

"The warden. I trapped him in his office last night and blew six through his rotten carcass."

I looked across the room at the others for confirmation. They all nodded. "Johnny's always been trigger-happy," one of them said.

All of a sudden I didn't want to know any more. It was enough to realize I had a cold- blooded killer's hard-on up my cunt without knowing all the gruesome details of his infamy.

It was like being fucked by Billy the Kid.

There was something terribly unique about having sex with such a paradoxical partner. A kid, who when cleaned up would resemble a choir boy, had the heart of a murderer.

Despite my innate fear, it turned me on. Being fucked by a baby faced outlaw was an experience not many women have.

"How old are you, Johnny?" I nibbled seductively in his ear.

"Twenty-two."

"You look younger. When you were a boy did you ever have any wet dreams about fucking an older woman like me?"

This was the key to the right lock. "Yes," he admitted. "My best friend's mother used to really turn me on."

"Do I look like her?"

"Yes, ma'am," he gulped, completely the gawky adolescent.

"Why don't you pretend I'm her," I suggested, "and you're finally getting to fuck the woman of your dreams."

This appealed to him immensely. In fact, as he began slobbering over my tits, he even began calling me Mrs. Lee.

And I became her—the living embodiment of this troubled boy's link to his more innocent past.

Now I was going to corrupt that innocence. Take advantage of Otis' lapse into nostalgia and reduce him to putty in my hands.

"This is your first fuck, isn't it?" I skillfully turned back the clock. "You're cherry, aren't you, Johnny?"

"Yes, yes," he said in a voice that was a half-tone higher. "I never thought, ma'am that I'd—you'd."

"Just calm down and fuck me, Johnny," I soothed, as I ran my fingers through his sandy long hair. "You're doing just fine."

"Am I-am I really?"

"Of course, darling. Your cock is a marvel. Believe me, an older woman can tell when a young boy's got real talent."

This flattery really lit a fire in his loins. All of a sudden Otis' cock was ramming me like a jack-hammer. My pelvis ached.

Of course this didn't stop me from urging him to, "Fuck harder! Harder! You know I want it deep!"

He was stabbing me with his prick, seeming to slice away the tissues as he plunged to the core of my interior. The head of his cock was apparently beyond my womb, feeling as though it were engorging some unchartered region of my body.

I had been so busy talking with Otis that I hadn't had a chance to come yet. With the burden of conversation alleviated by the phallic battering-ram stuffing my pussy, I let go and allowed myself to orgasmically explode.

My senses were shooting off like pinwheels and firecrackers. It seemed as though my libido were staging a premature 4th of July celebration.

"Go, Johnny, go!" I screamed. "Go off in my cunt!"

His steady stroking ceased and his cock spastically lurched. It was on its own now. There was no way its owner could hold back the floodtide of cum anymore, even if he were so disposed.

Otis' balls slammed against the lower part of my cunt and then a split-second later his hard prick erupted. Molten jizz poured into my spasming fuck-hole.

"Oh, I love it, baby, I love it!" I cried. "Your cum is soooo hot!"

Soon there was too much cream for my cunt to hold. Like the contents of an overturned pitcher, it poured from my body, drenching my thighs. I was a sticky mess from the crotch down.

And then it was over. The spurting had stopped and the kid was pulling his prick from my pussy with a noisy squish.

"Thanks, ma'am," he said like a little angel. "I sure do appreciate you lettin' me fuck you."

"My pleasure, Johnny," I smiled sweetly. "Now why don't you go find me one of your friends."

Otis was gone, but quickly returned with a man who resembled the side of a mountain more than a human being. "This is Champ, ma'am. He's the prison rasslin' champion, so we call him that. Nobody knows what his real name is for sure."

Probably including him, I surmised, as I surveyed the big brute. He probably killed people just because they were in line ahead of him.

But I couldn't be choosy. Besides, being fucked by such a caveman might be an intriguing change of pace after the kid.

"Okay, Champ," I gamely said to him, "how do you want it?"

"I—I, uh-" he stammered. I couldn't tell if his inability to speak was caused by shyness or dumbness.

"What, Champ?"

But he was so flustered he couldn't answer.

"I think what he wants to say," the kid interjected, "is that he wants you to pop his cherry the way you did mine."

I barely averted breaking out in laughter. This monster with an adolescent fantasy?

Incredible!

"Sure, why not?" I shrugged and agreed. "Who'm I supposed to be?"

"My mom," Champ grunted. "I always wanted to get into that bitch's hot pants."

Well, at least he could talk.

Fuck, too-an act he got right into. There was a new cock surging up my cunt and it was a locomotive. Chugging to my depths.

"How'm I doin, Mom?" Champ eagerly wanted to know.

"Mommy loves your big prick, sonny," I improvised. "Why didn't you ask me sooner if I wanted to fuck? I've had my eyes on you ever since you got out of grade school."

"What if Daddy finds out?" the big man irritatingly found something to be nervous about. I could feel his cock abruptly slacken.

"You can kill him," I whispered moistly in his cauliflowered ear.

He grinned like the proverbial cat who has just eaten the canary and his prick sprang forward, so my gamble had been won. However, I wasn't about to go any further with this gambit, for fear I'd learn he'd already murdered his father in real life.

Anyway, it was hard to remain interested in his psyche when his immense cock was so busy in my cunt. The intense friction quickly blotted every consideration out of my mind except coming.

I experienced my first orgasm with Champ when the head of his prick apparently reached my spine. It felt like he was breaking my back.

"Oh, God, you're killing me!" I exclaimed. "I love it! Do it harder to me!"

"Sure, Mom," he grunted. "If there's one thing I am, it's strong."

That was no lie. His whammed away, engorging spaces I hadn't known existed. His cock was the camel and my pussy was the eye of the needle.

Wild with passion, I grabbed Champ's egg-like balls and squeezed. If they had really been eggs their yolks would have come oozing out between my fingers.

He screamed from the pain at his groin and then fell forward like a ship lurching into the dock. His cock fragmented inside me, spewing off liquid shrapnel. The inner walls of my pussy seemed instantly pocked by the gouging missiles of his cum.

Then, all too soon, the ejaculation dried up and Champ was pulling his spent cock from my overflowing twat, muttering, "Thanks, Mom."

I didn't come out of it as easily as I had with Otis. For some reason—fatigue or something—I was having trouble shaking my orgasm so I could start afresh on a new convict. At a time when I needed every one of my wits, they seemed to be deserting me.

So it was still fumbling around in the fog of unshakable orgasm that I acknowledged the arrival of my next lover.

"Get on your hands and knees and spread your ass like a bitch in heat!" he roughly ordered. I was alert enough to realize that my run of moonstruck pseudo-adolescent boys was over. I had a tiger on my hands.

When I was too dopey to respond quickly enough to suit him, my new lover clasped me with his large hands and flipped me over. Then he forcibly propped me up on all fours and scooted around in back of me.

He gripped the cheeks of my ass like they were sponges and tore my butt apart. Suddenly my asshole and cunt were stinging with the pain of taut distention.

I could feel something tickling in the ravine of my crack. It was like the tip of some larger object.

Then there were bursts of hot air against my anus and pussy and a sniffing sound.

I looked around. He was smelling my two holes like a male dog seducing a bitch.

While I was still watching, he took his stiff cock and replaced his nose with it. The notched head began rubbing back and forth between my asshole and twat. The feeling began to be electric.

But now I was faced with a new problem. Not only had I never completely recovered from my last orgasm, there was a new one developing. Within moments I would be helpless with sensual delirium once again.

There was no use in trying to fight. I'd just have to pass on getting to know this convict better. Frankly, the only part of him on which I could concentrate was his twitching hard- on.

"Go ahead-" I screamed, "go ahead and fuck me!"

But he didn't. He kept shifting the crown of his cock from cunt to anus and back again, but refused to penetrate either cock-hungry orifice.

"Don't tease me!" I wailed. "God, I want it in either hole!"

"Tell me you need it," he hissed like a talking snake. "That you'll shrivel up and die if I don't fuck you."

"It true," I desperately babbled. "I need it! Fuck me or I'll die!"

"Now beg for it in the ass, bitch," he put down the final condition for entry.

"Oh, Jesus, fuck me in the ass!" I readily complied with a heartfelt shriek. "Fuck me in the ass with your big, hard prick!"

He was satisfied with my performance. And so was I with his when he gored the horn of his cock into my tightest opening. What a monster!

The knotty head rumbled up my rectum, a freight-train to my colon. At the same time, the hand of its owner dropped to my gaping pussy and I was being fingerfucked.

It had been fun to play the starring role in the adolescent fantasies of this man's two predecessors, but this guy didn't need any make-believe to make him a sensational lover.

There are no gimmicks needed when a man knows how to fuck as well as he did.

His cock was so big that it could have killed me, being stuffed to the hilt in my rectum as it was. However, every time it felt as though my time had come the cockhead stimulated some intensely erogenous rectal point and I orgasmically soared above the agony.

His fingers in my cunt were a lifesaver, too. There were as delicate and lacy in their movements as his prick was macho. It occurred to me that I might be dealing with a rather complex personality here. It scared me for an instant, until I remembered that I was being fucked by an escaped convict. I'd just have to take my chances with this guy's kinks along with everybody else's.

Anyway, who cared how mean he was as long as he could fuck ass like this. I had taken a lot in the ass so far today, but this was the first time my anus had felt so much like a pussy. My third convict lover really had the touch to bring out the best in a woman.

The pressurized pleasure was so intense that I couldn't hold out anymore for the icing on the cake. I screamed for him to come in me. Really blast my ass with his hot jism.

He was a quirky dude, though. Apparently his thing was to have a woman begging before he'd give her what she wanted. Sort of like my husband, Bill, when he was doling out the.

money for the household expenses.

"God, I need your cum!" I played the part and told the truth at the same time. "Need it in my ass! Please, please, give it to me!"

He cackled in triumph. What a bastard.

But what a supply of jizz! It came pouring from his hilted cock as though he'd stuffed a firehose up my ass.

I gasped, completely out of control. I felt like a tackling dummy with a mysterious ability to come. The more punishment I took, the harder I climaxed.

The spurting seemed as though it would never stop. Soon my colon was too full and the excess was escaping from my asshole, but still the prick within me did not cease creaming.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I loved it but I couldn't stand it. Too much of a good thing.

I tried to fight the encroaching darkness, but it was futile. Oblivion overtook me.

I don't know how long I was out. All I know is that the next thing I remember I woke up choking. When I opened my eyes I was certain an ape was sitting on my face.

I tried to wriggle for some air, but it was futile. Every time I moved my head, the hairy buttocks that pinioned it squashed harder and the huge cock in my mouth drove deeper down my throat.

The funky smell of male sweat seared my nasal passages and permeated my brain. The sensation was both intoxicating and repulsive at the same time.

Then the buttocks abruptly opened enough to permit a blast of oxygen to find its way up my snuffing nose. Now I was peering into the hairiest crack I'd ever seen.

Whatever or whoever was sitting on my face had his back to me. He was leaning forward toward my pussy, which was why his ass had opened. While I felt his tongue began to tickle my clit and the lips of my cunt, I looked up and gazed at his hard-working balls, churning because he was fucking me so vigorously in the mouth.

I was coming around, now, starting to tread gingerly in renewed consciousness. As one reflexively does after coming to, I began to collect clues about who, what, where and when.

This was no gorilla sitting on my face—this was the same who'd fucked my mouth during the orgy in the kitchen. Now he was doing it again, but with a difference—simultaneously eating my cunt.

Having figured out what was happening to me, my tension automatically snapped. In fact, that rule of my mother's came back to me with crystal clarity. As the human gorilla reamed my throat and licked my pussy, Mom's voice seemed to come at me as life-like as if she were in the room with us.

"Just relax and enjoy it, Donna. That's all you can do—" Ceasing to think about my safety, I threw all my resources into getting it on with the sweaty man on top of me. His hairiness, his innate ugliness, starting to turn me on along with his scratchy tongue and bludgeoning hard-on. Following my mother's advice, I had reached the point where any man with sex on his mind was the man for me.

A natural progression followed and I began thirsting for his cum. My brain tricked my throat into feeling parched, despite the many pints of jizz I had already swallowed this morning. I was craving the liquid from my lover's nuts the way someone stranded in the middle of the desert craves water.

Come in me! I mentally implored. Come, you hairy son-of-bitch! Fill my belly with your hot cum and I'll fill your mouth with a quart of pussy juice that's even hotter!

Our vibes were apparently on perfect pitch with one another. As though he had just received a telegram of my mentally relayed message, the ape slammed his cock into the maw of my stomach and unleashed a tidal wave of semen.

Suddenly I was gagging on it—almost literally drowning from jizz and down below, I was making good on my promise by releasing almost as much cream from my box as I was taking down the throat from his spurting cock.

Neither of us could hold all the liquid we were taking. Becoming oversaturated, we both spit up simultaneously, drenching ourselves and the bedding with a rich alloy of cum and pussy juice.

By the time the human gorilla had abandoned my body to give way to the sixth and final convict, I was as turned-on as I had been all morning. Forgetting all about the ulterior motives that had led me to initiate this gang-bang, now all I was thinking of was sex. Raw, lowdown sex.

My last fucker was mercifully at the side of the bed now, stroking his big cock in preparation for fucking me. I looked briefly up from his twitching prick into his face, but there was nothing recognizable in his expression or features. He was one of the convicts who had just sort of grungily melted into the crowd. There seemed nothing remarkable about him.

I was wrong. Jesus, was I wrong.

I should have suspected something funny was going on when, after all the exotic sex that had gone before—thus setting the stage for something spectacular—the last man decided on a simple fuck in the missionary position. It just didn't seem right and I was cooled off immediately. , I didn't even feel anything especially when his cock penetrated my cunt. Where was the passion? It was as though we were robots, we were going through the motions with such little inspiration.

"Can't you do any better than this?" I hissed impatiently in the ear of the man on top of me.

"Shhhhh," he whispered back. "I want to talk to you."

"Oh, one of those," I sighed. The kind of guy who wants to talk to a prostitute about how she got into the business instead of fucking her.

"No, listen," he said under his breath, so only I could hear. "It's not one you think."

"What are you talking about?"

"I ma cop-" It hit me like the falling cornice from a building. I started to feel faint again.

"Don't pass out on me," he whispered urgently, "all we've got is each other to save ourselves and bring these guys to justice."

"Why are you with them?" I defeated my reeling senses enough to ask.

"I infiltrated them on an undercover assignment before they crashed out of the pen," he rapidly explained. "When they went over the wall I had to go with them or blow my cover.

And in my business, that means certain death."

"Where are the rest of the cops?"

"They'll be here," he tried to reassure me. "The only trick will be for me and you to hold on until then."

"How am I doing so far?" I impulsively asked.

"Just fine, Mrs. Haley, just fine."

"Call me Donna."

The fucking went just fine after that.