Chapter 10
Rosie and Dahlia lay huddled together in a corner of the reformatory dispensary. From the opposite corner they could hear the low moans of Captain Bursk. Three naked members of Dahlia's team knelt beside him, but the round buttocks and firm curve breasts of the young maidens held no interest for the burly guard. He lay on his stomach, his back a horror of cuts and welts. One girl cradled his head in her lap as he groaned and whimpered into her golden muff. The other two bent over his tortured back, rubbing first aid cream into his wounds. It was lucky for Kenny that the gang had chosen the work block dispensary as their prison.
Rosie was filled with guilt and shame. Her asshole, stretched to its limits by the huge dildo Jack had forced up it, was sore, and ached every time she moved her shapely legs. Dahlia held the younger girl's head cradled tight against her lush tits and crooned softly into her lover's ear.
"Don't worry, dear. It's all over now. That hideous young man has gone to talk to the authorities. It's only a matter of a little time now, and we'll be out of here." Dahlia's words displayed a confidence she did not herself feel. If the authorities had let them get into this situation, how could she trust them to get the captives out?
As if echoing Dahlia's inner feelings, the iron door to the dispensary swung open, and two of Jack's gang entered. They swept their cruel eyes across the sea of voluptuous naked bodies in the room appraisingly. Seeing the two lovely girls by themselves in the corner, they grinned at each other and crossed the room, first locking the door behind them. The taller of the two, a black boy, stared down at the top of Rosie's head. His white companion looked straight into Dahlia's widened eyes.
"I'll take the young one," said the black boy. "From the way she carried on with Jack, she's a real hot number."
"All right, Joe," his slighter companion agreed. "The big one is plenty woman enough for me."
Without further conversation, the two thugs unbuckled and unzipped their jeans and dropped their pants to the floor. Dahlia stared at the two limp cocks in front of her.
"OK, lady, get your little friend up, and quick. You two are going to suck our cocks, and you'd better make it good." He glowered at Dahlia threateningly, his ebony features displaying not a trace of mercy.
Rosie gasped as her head was pulled from Dahlia's comforting breast by the grasp of two cruel hands in her long blonde hair. She opened her eyes to stare at the head of a long, snaky black cock, still limp, but slowly stiffening. 'Oh, no,' she thought. 'No more. Haven't they done enough to me?' But she moved her head toward the organ, following the inexorable pressure at the back of her head. Thoroughly cowed, she opened her mouth and sucked the entire length of the cock into her, feeling the organ stiffen perceptibly as she did so.
"Now suck it, white bitch," her new tormentor demanded. "Suck it hard." Rosie obeyed, feeling the cock slowly grow in length until she was forced to back off from it as it threatened to force its way down her throat and choke her. The black man standing before her began to move his hips back and forth in primitive rhythm, moving his cock in and out of her mouth, reveling in the sensations of saliva gathering around the shaft, of the swollen head moving in and out of her clutching lips. He could feel the stimulation of every nerve in his prick as his captive's tongue lapped around and around his throbbing shaft He moaned low in his throat, reached down to her shoulders, under her armpits, and pulled her arms up, cupping her small dainty hands around his huge hanging balls. He squeezed her fingers together around the sack, then removed his hands and groaned as the subdued girl continued the light rhythmic pressure to his testicles.
Rosie sucked at the swollen cock in her mouth. She continued to lightly finger the black man's balls, feeling his tension mount as he came closer and closer to the orgasm he sought. Opening her eyes, she could see Dahlia next to her, sucking wildly on the cock of the young white boy, could see the saliva-covered shaft as it frothed in and out of her lover's luscious red lips. 'Oh,' she thought, 'how can things ever be the same between us after this terrible day?' She continued to suck, running her tongue languorously around the huge pulsing head of the black cock as it made its way to the back of her throat, then returned to just touch her gripping lips before repeating its lustful journey.
Dahlia's mind was racing as she lapped and sucked at the creamy white prick that had invaded her mouth. These two obviously had been posted as guards over the dispensary while their leader went to confer with the authorities. An idea struck her. She moaned into the boy's prick, pretending to be carried away by passion. Reaching her hands up, she began to stroke the boy's dangling balls, cupping them in her palms, rolling them with her fingers. She moved her hands back and squeezed his firm, hard buttocks, running her finger between them to brush against his asshole. Her captor moaned in ecstasy. 'I was right,' he thought 'This is one hot piece.'
Continuing her passionate lapping at his cock, Dahlia began to run her hands up and down the back of his muscular thighs, expertly squeezing the clumps of muscle that stood out, strong and tense. She ran her fingers into the tender concavity behind the kneecap, then continued with her sensuous massage, kneading the muscles in his calves, pressing her fingers around his ankles.
The boy moaned aloud. This was too much! Never had any woman shown such an expert knowledge of his body, and how to excite it His fierce thrustings became faster, his breath came in pants as he felt his balls urging him to new heights of passion, struggling to unleash the load of hot come that was churning in his dangling scrotum.
Dahlia worked her hand down the back of the young hoodlum's feet, then pressed them palms down against the floor to hold her weight as she moved her torso forward, forcing the cock in her mouth even further down her stuffed throat. Slowly she began to inch her hands toward the pockets of his prison jeans. As the thrusts of the prick in her mouth began to speed up to a frantic pace, her hand encountered a hard object in the back pocket of the pants crumpled on the floor. Slowly, carefully, she extracted it, feeling the cold metal of a revolver in her hand.
Just then, the white boy began to moan and groan uncontrollably, forcing his cock in and out of her warm mouth at an insane pace, throwing his head back in ecstasy as spurt after spurt of hot, sticky come shot into Dahlia's grasping, sucking mouth.
The black boy was also near his climax. He moved with redoubled fury, driving his ebony shaft in and out of Rosie's hot, gripping lips, feeling the sensuous lubrication of her saliva. Suddenly, he pulled out and began to jerk his cock up and down with his hand as spasm after spasm of lust shook his frame and a great geyser of come shot from the head to land all over Rosie's upturned face. He sighed in satisfaction and release, then turned to see how his companion was doing, and stared right into the barrel of the .357 magnum that Dahlia held unwaveringly in both hands.
"I should shoot your balls off for that," Dahlia said in a low voice filled with hate, "but I won't descend to your level. What you are going to do is lick every drop of that disgusting slime from that little girl's face. Now!" she growled, pointing the gun at him without taking her eyes from his companion.
The black leaned down, sticking his tongue out, and began to lap at the globules of come all over Rosie's beautiful cheeks, lips, eyelids, and nose. He wanted to go for the gun in his jeans, but he knew what a .357 such as Dahlia could do to a man; even if she missed a vital spot, she'd blow a hole in him you could put your fist through.
When the black boy had thoroughly cleaned Rosie's face, Dahlia motioned her two captives with her gun to move over to the other side of the room. "Lie down and put your hands on your head," she commanded.
Reaching over to where the black boy had stepped out of his jeans, Dahlia removed his .38 Police Special from the pocket.
"Barbara! Rosie! Tie those two up. Girls, let's get ready. We have an appointment with the governor!"
In the corridor outside the door to the work block, Jack Rivers was in his glory. Seated at a table covered with microphones, two of his gang at his shoulders, he was giving a press conference.
"We did not take this action lightly," he intoned. "The conditions under which young people are imprisoned in this state at something out of the middle ages, and it's time the public found out about it" Jack paused, looking down at his prepared speech before going on. A news reporter interrupted him.
"What about your hostages? Are they safe?"
"The young ladies and Captain Bursk are being cared for in the best manner possible under the siege conditions we find ourselves in." He lowered his eyes to his speech again, then glanced up as he heard a loud collective gasp from the assembled media people and dignitaries. They were all staring at something behind him. He turned his head and gaped, dropping his jaw in surprise and terror.
The door to the work block was wide open. Along the corridor he could see the supine bodies of seven of his followers, trussed like Thanksgiving turkeys. But the biggest shock was the vision of Dahlia Peterson and her girls' softball team. They were strung out in a line on either side of the outside of the doorway, dressed in the ripped tatters of their uniforms, the odd breast or pubic bush peeking out from where his boys had torn the material. Dahlia herself stood, legs spread wide, in the doorway, a pistol at the ready in each hand, pointing them both at the backs of the leaders of the rebellion. Slowly, resigned, Jack and his two lieutenants raised their hands.
"Mr. Wynant," Dahlia said, "your reformatory is again secure. I think you better send for a doctor for Captain Bursk. He's sustained some rather painful injuries. Now my girls and I are going home. Later today I shall call a conference and discuss the treatment we received at the hands of these poor abused young men. I shall also have a few things to say about the security of this institution, and the caliber of its staff."
Dahlia handed her guns to two guards who stepped forward to take charge of the prisoners. As reformatory personnel led Jack and his gang away, she put a protective arm around Rosie's shoulder and wearily led her championship girls' softball team out of the building to their waiting bus, pursued by media people jabbering incoherent questions.
As the weary team members sat back against the cushions of their seats on the bus, Dahlia stood behind the driver's seat and addressed them.
"Now girls, we've had a horrifying experience here today. But I think on the whole we've held together rather well." She reached down and stroked the hair of Barbara where she sat, sobbing quietly." We won't be able to forget these last few hours, but let's stick together like a team. I'll see to it that none of you are bothered by the press. Any information they want will come from me, and none of it will reflect badly on any of you." She looked down for a moment, gazing deeply into the big blue eyes of her young love. Rosie looked back with love and admiration for this strong woman. Turning again to the team members, Dahlia concluded: "Now, let's all relax on the ride back home. And be sure to get to bed early tonight. We've got our first game next week, and I want every one of you ready for a tough practice first thing in the morning!"
Dahlia could feel a relaxation of tension on the bus as it slowly drove out through the iron gates of the reformatory. She sighed as Rosie sleepily lay her head on the teacher's welcoming shoulder. Well, at least the season couldn't get any rougher!