Chapter 4
Most of my twenty-four hours in quarantine were spent trying to sleep away the pain that wracked my naked, shit-crusted body. Even that didn't work, though. My dreams of torture were as bad as the real thing.
When I did awaken for good, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. When my stomach grumbled, I realized I was starving.
However, my appetite was short-lived. The instant I became fully aware of the putrid reek of my own body, I puked up whatever little food I had remaining in my stomach.
When unconsciousness would not mercifully return, I stared blankly at the gray ceiling. My only concession to life were my infrequently blinking eyelids. I was afraid that if I moved I'd be wallowing in my own slime.
How long I remained like this, I do not know. I might as well have been frozen in a block of ice.
It could have been day or night when the door to the cell finally opened. As far as I was concerned, I'd been incarcerated a lifetime ago. I was so down, nothing seemed to matter.
Two cops came in and started hauling me away like a bag of garbage. When they started talking I realized they were Jack and Charlie.
"How do you think this little pigeon's gonna like all her new friends, Charlie?" Jack asked his partner.
"She can't help but love it," Jack replied in a cool chuckle. "One of those dykes'll shove a shiv up her snatch if she don't."
Then they both laughed uproariously. Something told me it wasn't going to be long before I wished I was back in isolation.
They carried me into the main cellblock and threw me in a cell. Unlike all the others, it was occupied by more than two prisoners. In fact, there were five women in there ahead of me. It was the cell I'd seen on my way to quarantine.
"Oh, shit!" one of them cursed as I sprawled on the cold floor. "Now you're gonna pack a half dozen of us in this crummy sardine can."
"Shut up, Kitty," Jack growled, running his billy club across the bars so it rolled over her nose.
"The man don't have to put up with this shit," she continued, undaunted. "The most they've got is two to a cell. It's discrimination!"
Jack turned on her, really mad, poking the billy club through the bars so it rammed her eye. "Don't start none of that Commie bullshit in this town," he clicked off the words so she would be sure and get his meaning. "Uncle Roy says everybody's treated the same in Gila Flats."
"Yeah, like pigs if they're not a Dean or a Hatfield," she spat like a cobra. When he tried to conk her again with his stick, she still had enough spring in her legs to dance away from danger.
"Now, listen here, Kitty," Charlie interjected himself into the conversation, apparently in an attempt to cool down his steaming buddy. "You know very well that the government makes us keep you nice ladies together in the same place. Away from the men. It's the government that wants segregation."
"But in one fucking cell?" she called from the back wall. "Why can't we have at least two."
"Maybe next year, sweetheart," Charlie grinned facetiously. You see, as a civilian you probably would understand this, but in police work the budget is all figured in advance. Right now, in a way, you're locked up in last year's cell. Based on the woman we pinched last year, we thought this was all the space we needed."
"Of course," Jack said, his disposition considerably improved, "that budget was figured out before Uncle Roy opened the Comstock."
"But the Comstock ain't got nothin' to do with the police force," Charlie dead-panned. Then they both broke up laughing.
This was the second time I'd heard of the mysterious Comstock. Maisie Hatfield had spoken indirectly of it.
When Jack and Charlie finally calmed down, they secured the lock on the cell door, and turned to leave. "Hey, what do you want us to do with this bitch?" Kitty called after them. "She stinks to high heaven."
"Give the pig a bath," Jack shouted over his shoulder, and they were gone.
Looking up from the floor, I could see that I was surrounded by a circle of women. They were standing so close to me that I could see up their dresses. None of them wore panties.
A fifth pair of legs joined the oval. Knowing they were Kitty's I studied them longer than the others. They were long and lean, leading up to a crotch bristling with fiery red hair.
"Okay," Kitty took over, "let's get this over with."
The picketed enclose of female legs disbanded as they all went to get the stuff to wash me. Since no explicit instructions had been given, I gathered that bathing each other was a routine chore for the prisoners in the women's cell.
Before lone one of them had come back with a pail of water. As I looked up into it she poured the contents over my head. Unfortunately, it was ice cold.
However, before my teeth could start to chatter, four of the five were on me with sponges. Then Kitty stepped to the middle and spurted my body with liquid detergent, giving them some suds to make.
As the quartet of women lathered up from head to toe, Kitty squatted Indian-style on the floor and watched the proceedings with a bemused smile on her aggressively beautiful face. She didn't seem to care that I could look right up between her spread thighs at her open pussy.
Then, in the midst of hypnotically gazing at Kitty's cunt, I was abruptly reminded of my own. Some soapy fingers had slipped inside and were reaming it out.
"Cooties, deariee," one of the girls giggled. "Gotta check for cooties. Uncle Roy doesn't want the whole town comin' down with the clap."
Before long a hand clasped my right breast. Then another hand clasped the other. "Have to check for sores," their pretty blonde owner explained.
"And infectious hemorrhoids," a third proper joined in, jamming her index finger up my ass.
"What about trench mouth, Sheila," Kitty coached the fourth girl from the sidelines.
"I don't wanna stick my finger in the bitch's mouth," Sheila complained in a tough-sounding Eastern accent. "She might bite me."
"Who said anything about your finger," Kitty smiled. "You need something a lot more sensitive than that to pick up all the rough spots on her lips and tongue."
"That would, of course, be my pussy region," Sheila improved her diction and replied as though she were answering a question on an oral exam.
"A-plus, dear," Kitty smiled some more. "Now go the head of the class."
There was no adjustment of clothing required for what Sheila wanted to do. Wearing nothing underneath her loose prison dress, all she had to do was straddle my head and ease down. Just like that she was sitting on my face with her bare, wide-open pussy.
Trying to get some air through the cracks, I opened my mouth. This sent her squishy labia spilling over my teeth and gums. She had more meat between her legs than I'm sure some guys have in their cocks.
Finally, when I still wasn't getting any air from the outside world. I began sucking up her cunt for some. Maybe there was an air-pocket in her womb.
I hit pay dirt. Upon tickling my tongue against her cervical sensitivity, Sheila let a devastating cunt-fart. Abruptly my lungs were filled with the funky air of her collapsed uterus.
With four distinct sources of erotic stimulation, orgasmic excitement welled automatically within me. I couldn't stop it. Women are sexual beings-even when they've lived their life under the wrap of respectability.
I was so stirred that my middle-class world seemed light years away. Aroused beyond morality, there was only one environment in the universe in which I was interested-this small jail cell, throbbing at its core with love-making women.
And, as if the fingers, hands, and pussy working me over weren't enough, I had the added visual turn-on of Kitty's wide-open cunt beautifully spreading itself just a couple of feet in front of me.
"Mmmmm, this is making me hot," Kitty announced, as she watched the action at my naked body. Slipping her hand under her dress, she began explicitly masturbating.
As I watched her, I realized with incredulity that I had never actually seen a woman play with her pussy. Of course I had masturbated some as a girl, but I always thought it was nasty and certainly never would have looked at myself. As for the sexuality of others of my own gender, I avoided it as none of my business.
It was fascinating to see just how much Kitty could do to her twat with her fingers. I was starting to see that it was a naive fool who believed only the penetration of a male hard-on could satisfy her sexual needs.
Kitty's fingers could do so much. They could spread her pussy lips. Digitally fuck her. Play with her clit. Wipe up the juice and transport it to her mouth for a slurping taste.
Eventually Kitty made herself so excited that she jumped to her feet, her hand caught between her thighs as she continued finger-fucking herself. "I want in on the action!" she declared. "You girls have done enough inspecting for a while. Hold her down!"
Just like that the sucking and feeling stopped and I was flattened. Sheila and some other girl then grabbed my legs and yanked them apart.
Somebody sat on my chest, her knees on my shoulders so I couldn't move. Coincidentally, her sopping blonde bush was right in my face, the cheeks of her ass flattening my tits.
"Go get it, Jenny!" Kitty snapped impatiently at the only member of the original four not involved in my restraint.
The girl scurried over to a corner with the alacrity of someone who knows who's boss. When she returned it was with a scummy plumber's helper. One of those things they use to unclog toilets.
Kitty snatched it from her hands and immediately set to work unscrewing the rubber cup. When she was finished she had a thick pole about two and a half feet long.
"Are, are you going to use that thing on me?" I stammered, my shaky words further obscured by the muffling blonde pussy tickling my face.
"You mean rape you like they did that Linda Blair chick on the tube?" Kitty asked with wide-eyed facetiousness. "Y-yes."
"What do you think?" she snapped. "Y-yes."
"The jailer will give you your prize when your sentence is completed," she clapped her hands like a game show MC. "And now that you know the truth, are you ready to face the consequences."
She paused, as if waiting for something. When it didn't come, Kitty snapped at the others, "Get it? 'Truth or Consequences."
It was a dumb joke. But when Kitty told the others to laugh-they laughed. She seemed to wield as much power in this cell as Uncle Roy Dean did in the jail and town that surrounded it.
"Okay, that's better," she decided. "Now let's get down to business. Jenny, get the gunk."
The girl acting as servant went to another corner and returned with a battered can full of something rancid.
"Bacon grease," Kitty informed me on its contents. "A trustee in the kitchen smuggled it out to me. It's the best thing for a tight pussy."
With that, she snagged a big glob of the stuff and flung it like a mud ball between my legs. Landing with a splat at the top of my crotch, it quickly oozed down the face of my cunt with greasy viscosity.
"Rub it in, Glorida," she said to one of the girls holding my legs apart. "Make her pussy shine." As Gloria's fingers began to work the goo into my snatch, I watched Kitty begin to grease her pole. I noticed that she was equally generous with the glob at both ends. What this could mean was beyond my innocence.
"There we go," she finally announced, her work finished. "Now for the first pop."
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, waiting for the brutal thrust I thought inevitable. However, to my astonishment, it didn't come.
When I re-opened my eyes I saw to my amazement that Kitty was sticking the pole into her cunt. She had about six inches of thick stick inside her.
Satisfied that it was securely locked into place, Kitty began strutting around, showing off her new wooden phallus. Looming from between her thighs, the pole resembled an incredibly long brown cock.
"Fuck her, Kitty," Sheila rasped impatiently. "Stop posing with your big prick and fuck the little bitch."
"Yeah," Gloria joined in, "we wanna see some action."
"Don't worry," Kitty cooled their clamor with an icy efficiency in her voice, "you'll get it."
Having promised a show, Kitty stopped posing and got down to business. The business of splitting my tender cunt with her greasy wooden dildo.
"Believe me, sugar," Kitty cooed as she closed in, "this is gonna make you glad you broke the law."
Although I still had no idea which law I had allegedly broken, I was starting to hunger with anticipation for this phase of the penalty. Frightened and degraded as I felt, I couldn't help but lust for the incredible opportunity to be fucked by anothe woman. Someone of my own sex who would know just where it felt good.
"Fuck me, fuck me!" I gave into my libidinous will and exclaimed. "Let me feel you inside me!"
"You asked for it, sweetie," Kitty grinned. Then she grimaced and shoved. Like a huge splinter, the pole shot into my cunt.
"More, more!" I feverishly begged.
Grinding her hips, she twisted the pole deeper and deeper into my twat. By the time she paused, whatever of the immense wooden phallus not engorging her cunt was filling mine. We were fucking each other to the hilt.
Simultaneously we began wiggling our asses. The thick shaft jiggled within us like a brace of throbbing cocks. Yet, we were both moaning for the other one to, "Fuck harder, harder!"
Around us the other girls were getting so excited watching the action that they could no longer restrain themselves. The ones at my legs abandoned their posts and went to work on each other. Soon their clothes were off and they were sixty-nining.
With no orders from her leader to carry out, Jenny, Kitty's handmaiden, paid a visit to the blonde girl sitting practically on my face. Lifting her dress, Jenny stuck her pussy in the blonde's face and started rolling her hips.
"Oh, Brenda, eat my cunt," Jenny identified the girl with her crotch in my face. "Stick your tongue inside my fuck-hole and made me come!"
As Brenda apparently did as she was asked, she also slid her own twat up over my mouth. Now I was sucking pussy, too.
In the meantime, the action connecting Kitty's cunt with mine had become even hotter and heavier. It turned out I had the end of the pole in my snatch on which the rubber plunger had been screwed. Those twisting grooves and ridges chopped into the tender tissues of my pussy like a miniature lawn mower. Even the lubricating bacon grease couldn't soften the exquisitely painful friction.
I wanted to scream out in joy, "Oh, God, I'm coming harder than I ever have in my life!" But, of course I couldn't with Brenda's big, fat blonde pussy sealing my hungrily suctioning mouth.
So I just writhed. My ass jiggled more and more furiously. I came harder and harder.
And by the moans that permeated the cell, I wasn't the only one. My eardrums throbbed with the lowdown sound of a half dozen horny women coming at once-one of them definitely me.
Even though we were in jail, and Jack Dean was a cop, it seemed a crime he had to break it up.
"All right, you dyke bitches," he rattled the bars with his billy club to get our attention, completely unfazed by the lesbian orgy he had stopped in progress. "Time to get cleaned up. Uncle Roy has got Comstock on his mind."
Quickly I looked around at the faces of the others to survey their reactions. It was immediately clear that I was the only who didn't know what he was talking about.