A FRIEND INDEED  

                            by 

                         Joe Doe


DEBBIE'S HUSBAND HAS BEEN UNJUSTLY IMPRISONED.  LUCKILY HER OLD 
FRIEND IS THE CHIEF GUARD.... 



A very depressed Debbie Dahl sat alone in the prison's stark, 
dirty waiting room.  She couldn't believe that she had to meet 
her husband, Jim, in this terrible place. 

Jim had been a successful business executive who had blown the 
whistle on his company's corrupt business dealings.  But the 
powerful officials he had implicated had managed to twist things 
around so that it was Jim who had been sentenced to three years 
in prison. 

"Thank goodness for Herb," Debbie thought.  Herb, the chief guard, 
had protected Jim ever since he had been sent to the prison. 

For example, the day Herb found out that Jim was in the prison, a 
mysterious paperwork snafu caused Jim to be transferred out of the 
low-security "country club" section of the prison and into the 
dangerous maximum security wing run by Herb.  Since then, Herb had 
personally taken charge of Jim's life and had even arranged Jim's 
cell assignment and medication.  

Jim and Debbie had been trying to have children for some time, even 
though Jim's sperm count was pathetically low.  They were both on 
special fertility drugs, but, although they made her very fertile, 
they did little for him.  Debbie suspected the daily stresses and 
humiliation of life in a maximum security hellhole did little for 
Jim's sperm count. 

It was Herb who smuggled Jim his fertility pills, albeit a cheaper 
generic form of the medicine.   

And now Herb had arranged for Debbie to have conjugal visit with 
Jim, at her most fertile time of the month. 

Debbie was actually surprised that Herb was so helpful.  He had 
been a bully back in high school and had tormented the nerdy Jim.  
Debbie had been the most beautiful girl in school, and she 
remembered that Herb had been enraged when she'd married Jim.        
She thought that Herb hated Jim, and she was surprised that Herb 
was so helpful now that they were both totally in his power.  As 
a matter of fact, when Herb met her in the waiting room, he seemed 
delighted to see her.  

They exchanged pleasantries in the prison waiting room before Herb 
gave her the bad news. 

"I'm afraid you won't be able to see Jim today, Debbie," he sighed. 

"Why not?" she asked, shocked.  She had taken the day off and 
driven hours to the prison.  And she knew that Jim had been 
looking forward to this visit for weeks. 

"There's no female matron available to search you.  This is a 
special 'off-the-record' visit I arranged, but the matron I 
scheduled cancelled."     

"Isn't there ANY way I could see Jim?" 

"Well, I could have one of my male guards do it, but the search is 
rather...intense...so they're really not supposed to," he said, 
reluctantly.  "Don't get me wrong.  A male guard COULD do the 
search.  It's just that no one would want to risk it.  I mean, 
Jim's a nice con, but no one wants to lose their job." 

He shook his head regretfully.

"It's too bad.  Jim told me that this visit was the one thing 
keeping him alive.  I probably shouldn't tell you this, but, if 
we cancel this visit...I'll probably have to put him in the hole, 
just to make sure he doesn't harm himself.  I hate to think of him 
that way: stripped naked, baking his brains out in that steel 
coffin in the broiling sun.  But it's better than letting him 
hang himself...."     

Debbie thought she was going to be sick when she heard him casually 
talk about throwing her beloved husband into the hole.  She just 
had to do something.  
 
"Isn't there some other way?" she pleaded.  "Can't we skip the 
search, or find someone else to search me?" 

"Skipping the search is out of the question," Herb said, sternly.  
"And I could have a male guard search you, but none of them want 
to risk losing their jobs over that kind of thing."   

Debbie sat down on the bench and started to cry.  There just had 
to be something she could do.  At last she sprang up, inspired by 
an idea. 

"Could...YOU...search me, Herb?" she asked, hopefully. 

He looked at her, apparently amazed by the idea.  "GOSH, Debbie, I 
NEVER would have thought of that!  You are SO SMART!" 

She smiled at the compliment.  Although she had gotten good grades 
in school (she HAD been a cheerleader and prom queen, after all), 
Debbie knew she wasn't a good judge of people.  She had never been 
"street smart," and she was pleased that Herb was impressed. 

But he still seemed to be wrestling with the idea.  "I really 
shouldn't, Debbie.  I could lose my job.  Besides, we've known 
each other for years.  I remember when you turned me down for 
dates during high school, for Pete's sake."   

Debbie looked at him with sympathy.  She did feel bad about the way 
she had treated him all those years ago and thought it was really 
terrific of him not to hold a grudge.

He tried to explain his reluctance. 

"See, Debbie, I'd have to frisk you.  This would involve touching 
you in an ungentlemanly fashion.  Why, I would really have to treat 
you just like another con.  I'd hate myself having to treat you 
that way." 

"You'd be doing it for Jim," Debbie countered.  "I would know that 
you would just be doing your job." 

"Uh...there's more to it than that, Debbie.  After I frisked you, 
I'd have to...strip search you!" 

"Strip search!" Debbie said, shocked.  "On the rule sheet it said 
that I would have to go through a metal detector first, and then 
they'd strip search Jim when the visit was over." 

"Uh...this is a new procedure...so it wasn't on the sheet.  No, 
Debbie, it's butt naked...or not at all." 

She looked stunned.  Being frisked was humiliating enough, but now 
Herb would have to STRIP SEARCH her?  That was unthinkable! 

He saw the look on her face and quickly backtracked.  "You're 
right, Debbie.  I think we should just forget the whole thing.  
I don't want to lose my job over this." 

He paused and reflected on the matter.  "I need to get back so that 
I can transfer Jim to the hole.  Just one other thing: I don't 
want to scare you, but...."  He paused, as if even for a seasoned 
prison professional, it was sometimes difficult to say certain 
things.  "In case something should happen to Jim, do you have any 
last words you wanted to say to him before...."  Herb's voice 
trailed off, letting Debbie imagine the possibilities. 

She put her hand over her mouth, too horrified to speak.  She 
thought hard.  She thought very hard.

"I want you to frisk me, Herb," she finally said. 

"I can't do that, Debbie!"

"No, Herb, I mean it!" she said.  "I want you to frisk me!  And 
then, when you're done...."  Her voice cracked, and she tried 
again.  "And then, when you're done...I want you to strip search 
me," she said, firmly. 

"For Pete's sake, Debbie!" Herb said.  "I can't do that.  I can't 
treat you like some common criminal.  I've known you for years.  
I can't just order you to strip down bare naked and to prance 
around in front of me like some two dollar whore!" 

She blushed hotly at Herb's humiliating choice of words.  But her 
mind was made up.  "If it means saving Jim's life, then that's what 
I WANT you to do!"  Her expression was solemn.  She looked up into 
Herb's eyes.  "Please strip search me, Herb!" she begged.  "I'll do 
ANYTHING!  Do it for me!  Do it for Jim." 

He finally nodded.  Mentioning his good friend seemed to sway him. 

Debbie brightened.  "Thank you for doing this, Herb!  I really owe 
you one." 

"Yes, you do, Debbie," Herb agreed.  "But I think now that we're 
on an official footing, you should start calling me 'Officer,' or 
'Sir,' just like Jim does.  I'm warning you in advance, I'm going 
to have to be rough on you and treat you like any con." 

"Yes, sir," she said, in a faltering voice.   

He led Debbie into the stark exam room.  The cinder-block room was 
old and dirty, empty except for a plastic chair and small sturdy 
table. 

"The rules are very clear, Debbie," Herb said, sadly.  "First, I'm 
going to have to frisk you.  "Please turn around and assume the 
position." 

She swallowed hard, but slowly turned around and leaned forward 
against the wall in the classic frisk position. 

"Spread your legs!" he said, harshly. 

She complied, spreading her legs slightly.  She had worn a short, 
attractive sundress, hoping to look nice for Jim.  She didn't want 
to spread her legs too much, because every additional inch caused 
the dress to ride up in back. 

Herb overcame her blushing reluctance by kicking her left foot -- 
and then her right -- into the desired position. 

Debbie was now submissively exposed, with her hands awkwardly 
against the wall and the hem of her dress barely covering her 
soft round bottom.   

Herb started by slowly running his hands through her soft, silky 
hair, carefully examining it.   Then he dutifully ran his stubby 
fingers down the back of her dress, playfully feeling through her 
dress as if to figure out what her bra strap was. 

He playfully pulled the suspicious bra strap out and then snapped 
it back against her skin...just like when they were back in high 
school.  Only this time, she couldn't slap his face and report him 
to the principal.  Instead, she let out a soft "Oh."  But she 
obediently maintained her position.   

Then Herb ran his hands down the small of her back, stopping when 
he got to her butt.  He teasingly fondled her tight bottom cheeks 
while she helplessly dug her fingers into the wall.  He took his 
time, and she blushed as she felt her skirt ride up to expose her 
panties.  

Then he reached his hand between her legs and slowly began to grope 
her soft pubic mound.  She involuntarily flinched and started to 
close her legs. 

"I HATE having to do this, Debbie!" he said, his voice shaking with 
anguish.  "Maybe I should just put Jim in the hole...." 

"No, Herb, don't," Debbie said, gritting her teeth.  She obediently 
spread her legs as wide as she could.  "Keep searching!" 

"It's 'Officer' or 'Sir' from now on, Debbie!" he reminded her, 
giving her a shapely bottom a sharp slap. 

"Keep searching, please, sir," she said, submissively. 

Herb reluctantly took her advice, finally finishing with her crotch 
and moving his hands to her right thigh.  He slowly felt all around 
the top of her thigh, and then slowly down her beautiful bare leg.  
He moved on to the left leg, and repeated the methodical, thorough 
groping. 

He then ran his hands up and down her arms, over her tummy, and 
slowly up to her breasts.   

Once again, he repeated his slow, thorough search, and, once again, 
he asked the humiliated housewife if she wanted him to stop.  She 
desperately wanted to scream, "YES!" but knew that, if she did, it 
was a death sentence for her beloved husband. 

"No, Officer!" she said, her voice trembling.  "Please keep 
searching me, sir."

"It has to be thorough, you know."

"Y-yes, sir.  Please do a good, thorough job, sir!" 

Then, finally, the frisk was over.    

Debbie turned around and looked at Herb.  She knew that he had 
threatened her with a strip search, but he had to be joking, didn't 
he?  After all, wasn't it obvious, after the way he'd groped her, 
that she wasn't hiding anything? 

Herb sat down comfortably in a chair facing her...and gave the 
order she had been dreading. 

"Okay, strip!" he said, coldly.  "Everything off, right now.  I've 
got a schedule to keep." 

"I swear I'm not hiding anything, sir!" Debbie pleaded.  "Is this 
really necessary?" 

"The kind of female trash we get in prison hides stuff in all their 
little secret compartments," he replied, harshly.  "And I'm going 
to have to take a good long look at every one, fish.  If you'd 
rather I threw Jim in the hole, that's fine.  But if not, then 
you'll do as you're told.  Remember you're in prison, and I have 
the badge and the gun.  You may have been hot stuff outside, but 
when I tell you to strip, you STRIP!  Clear?" 

He had warned her that he would be rough on her, but his outburst 
still left her stunned.  She said nothing, but kicked off her 
sandals.  Then she undid the front buttons on her dress and pulled 
it over her head. 

Debbie normally wore plain underwear, even though Jim begged her 
to wear the fancy lingerie he bought for her.  Today, as a treat 
for him, she had reluctantly worn the matching lacy red bra and 
panty set that he'd bought her last Valentine's Day.   

Wearing it in front of Jim would have been embarrassing.  But 
prancing around in front of Herb was EXCRUCIATING! 

Herb ordered her to put her hands on top of her head and slowly 
turn in circles.   

She didn't know why she had to do this, but his voice brooked no 
contradictions. 

Then....  "Take off your bra, Debbie," Herb said, calmly. "I need 
to get a look at your titties." 

She turned crimson, but complied, once again placing her hands on 
her head and turning in circles until Herb was satisfied that her 
soft, luscious breasts were not dangerous weapons.  

"Those are cute little underpants you have on, Debbie," Herb 
teased.  "Too bad you're my new little jailbird, because you're 
going to have to take them off!"  

Debbie just stared at him in stunned disbelief. 

His voice turned stern.  "Drop your drawers! he barked.  "Now!"  

Debbie staggered, but she knew she had no choice.  She turned her 
back and slowly lowered her lacy red underpants to the cold prison 
floor. 

Herb carelessly tossed her panties onto the pile with the rest of 
her clothes.  "You know the routine, fish," he snapped.  "Spin!" 

Debbie, freezing, naked, and totally humiliated, reluctantly put 
her hands on top of her head and began to turn slowly.    

It wasn't clear to her what he was looking for, but she could tell 
he was looking hard! 

At last he curtly ordered her to "get up on all fours, doggie 
style, on the exam table.  And hurry it up." 

Debbie couldn't believe how humiliating this all was, but she 
immediately obeyed the his command and scampered into position 
on the table.   

She was stunned when he gave her bare bottom another hard SPANK!  

"Nose on the table, ass in the air, convict!" Herb barked.   
"That's right!  Now spread 'em!  WIDER!  I've got to check 
out that tight little pussy." 

He didn't have any gloves or lube, so he began to slowly rub her 
bare pussy in order to "grease her up," as he put it.  Despite her 
abject humiliation, Debbie was soon lubricating herself on Herb's 
bare hand. 

The cavity search was long and intense, and, as he leisurely played 
with her pussy, he chatted about Jim. 

"You know, Debbie, I sure hope that Jim gets you pregnant soon!" he 
said, his voice resuming its friendly tone.  "If he did, I could 
probably get him transferred back to minimum security.  I know 
that type of thing impresses the parole board, too." 

"You think so?" she said. 

"Oh, I KNOW so."  Herb's voice oozed sincerity and confidence, as 
well as authority.  "Of course, if you don't get pregnant, the 
warden is going to get pretty pissed at Jim.  I mean, Jim is 
getting conjugal visits, special medicine, and me to look after 
him, and all.  But if you don't get knocked up soon, the warden's 
going to get angry, and the parole board will throw the book at him." 

"That's terrible," Debbie wailed.  "Jim's been trying to get me 
pregnant for months," she said, desperately.  "Between you and me, 
I don't think he can do it."

Despite herself, Debbie was getting wet and stimulated.  She leaned 
back and started humping Herb's hand.   

"It's too bad you can't afford a surrogate.  I know one woman who 
was able pay for a surrogate to get her pregnant, and then the 
parole board let her husband out." 

He paused.  "But do you have a spare $100,000 for a surrogate, 
Debbie?" he asked, innocently. 

"No, Officer," she said, gasping as he massaged her.  "I sold the 
house and used the last of our savings to hire that attorney you 
recommended for Jim's appeal.  But he took all our money and ran 
off to South America!" 

"Tough break.  I wish you could find someone to impregnate you 
TODAY, so that we could get Jim out of this hellhole as soon as 
possible.  It IS your fertile time of the month?"  

Debbie couldn't help herself.  She orgasmed right on Herb's hand. 

As she crouched on the table, bathed in the afterglow of her 
orgasm, Debbie considered the situation.  She thought; she 
thought very hard.   

"This is going to sound sort of funny, sir," she said.  "Could 
you...um...impregnate me, Herb, sir?" 

"What are you saying, Debbie?"  He sounded shocked at the idea.  
"You want me to FUCK you?" 

"It's the only way, H- sir!" she said, blushing.  "Take me into the 
cell, and we'll do it on the bed before Jim gets there." 

"I don't know, Debbie," he said, reluctantly.  "Where do you get 
such ideas?"  He shook his head, as if confused by the offer.  
"This is all happening so fast!" 

"Make love to me, please!" she pleaded.  "I admit that...I'm all 
worked up.  Take me into the other room, put me on the bed, and 
make love to me!" 

Herb shook his head sadly.  "Let's get one thing straight here, 
Debbie," he said, sternly.  "I only 'make love' to my wife.  If 
I do agree to do this, we'll keep it cold and impersonal.  I used 
to breed dogs, and I'll handle you the same way."    

He slipped cold steel cuffs onto her wrists and locked her to the 
examination table.  "There!" he said with satisfaction.  "Now 
you're ready to be mounted."  He quickly unzipped his pants. 

He didn't waste any time.  He began humping his bitch hard and 
fast.  "And I'll expect you to come back for more of the same 
every day, Debbie, until we're sure that you've been well and 
properly bred." 

Debbie said nothing, but grunted in shame and humiliation as he 
fucked her to another orgasm.  

It didn't take long for Herb to finish mating with his new prison 
bitch.  And there wasn't any cuddling afterward.   

He didn't give her a chance to rest, dress, or clean up.  Instead, 
he instantly re-cuffed her hands behind her back and led her down 
the long hallway towards the small room that had been set aside for 
the conjugal visit.  He led her to the back of a cell next to the 
visitation room and then fastened her so that she was chained 
standing in front of the bars in the back of the cell. 

"I have to go get Jim," he said, casually.  "I'll leave you here 
until I can get Jim ready.  Then I'll give you your lingerie back, 
and you can get dressed in the bedroom and wait for him." 

"But you can't leave me like THIS!" Debbie cried out.  "I'm stark 
naked with my hands cuffed behind my back!  This is a prison!  What 
if someone SEES ME?" 

"Nobody's here, Debbie," he said, soothingly.  "Besides, I'll be 
back in a couple of minutes." 

After Herb left, Debbie surveyed her surrounding nervously.  She 
was standing cuffed to the iron bars at the rear of a steel cage.  
The cell door was left open, but she was secured into position, 
and she wasn't going anywhere. 

Immediately across the hall from her cell was a large picture 
window.  Through the window, she could see a drab, depressing gym.  

It was only a couple of minutes after Herb had left that the first 
few prisoners streamed into the gym.  They immediately noticed 
Debbie, of course, and crowded around the window, calling out the 
most obscene appraisals of her naked charms imaginable.   

Even through the glass, she could hear their catcalls and foul 
remarks, and she blushed crimson.  Her fingers twisted helplessly 
in the cuffs.  Why had Herb cuffed her hands behind her back in a 
standing position in the cell?  It was impossible for her to cover 
herself. 

A few of the inmates burst into laughter when they noticed Herb's 
sperm dribbling down the inside of Debbie's thighs.   To her 
horror, the inmates generously offered to "give her a real fucking" 
to replace the "lost cum."  

But she had bigger problems.  She could hear a few of the more 
anxious prisoners trying to break through the electronic door.   

With her cell door wide open, she would be easy pickings for all 
of them.  

She was nearly hysterical by the time Herb finally returned. 

He quickly uncuffed her and led her into the small bedroom that 
was reserved for her conjugal visit.  She started screaming at 
him for abandoning her, but he bluntly cut her off by telling her 
that he had "some bad news about Jim." 

She quickly slipped back into her bra and panties while Herb 
explained the situation. 

"Jim isn't going to be able to see you today, Debbie," he said, 
sadly.  "There has been...an incident." 

"Oh, no!  What happened?"

"Don't worry, he's still alive.  But he's in the infirmary.  Before 
I came to meet you I had left him alone in the shower room so that 
he could wash up before his visit.  It seems a gang leader named 
Tyrone assaulted him there, in the shower room." 

"Assaulted?  Is he okay?  I want to see him!" 

"He's a little bruised up, but he didn't resist too much, so the 
doctor said he'll be okay.  The damage will be more psychological 
than anything.   You see, Debbie...Tyrone and his buddies...they 
made Jim DO things."  Herb paused.  "Things that men make other 
men do in prison, Debbie." 

Debbie put her hands over her ears.  "Stop!  Don't tell me any 
more.  I can guess what they did to him.  I don't want to hear 
about it." 

"Well, first he had to get down on his knees and blow them," Herb 
continued.  "And, of course, then they bent him over, and used the 
soap to...." 

"I said stop, Herb!" Debbie shrieked. 

"I'm sorry, Debbie.  I just thought you should know.  Anyway, Jim 
is too upset to see you right now.  Maybe I can schedule another 
visit in a few weeks." 

"But you told me to come back tomorrow.  Can't I see him then?" 

"No, tomorrow will be reserved for our little visit, Debbie," Herb 
said, with a sly smile.  "You will still come to the prison every 
day, but you won't be seeing Jim.  You'll be seeing me.  Of course, 
you realize that I'll have to strip search you each and every time 
you enter the prison.  Rules are rules...." 

Debbie looked down at the floor.  Her life had become a nightmare. 

"Well, I guess I should get dressed and go," she said, sadly. 

"Not yet!" Herb replied.  "You are scheduled for a conjugal visit 
today, and that's what you're going to get." 

"I don't understand.  You said Jim couldn't see me." 

"Let me explain," he said, softly.  "After Jim's assault, I went 
to see Tyrone.  As you know, I've been trying to get Jim moved back 
to minimum security.  But in a couple of days, he's going to be 
moved into a cell with Tyrone and a couple of his buddies instead!" 

"Oh, god!  You can't lock Jim up every night...with those-those 
perverts!"   

"It's worse than that.  I told Tyrone to leave Jim alone, but he 
said that since Jim had squealed to me, he was going to mark him 
as an informant.  He said that once he fingered Jim, he was as 
good as dead." 

"Can't you stop him, Herb?" Debbie wailed. 

"I can't be everywhere, Debbie.  I only left Jim alone in the 
shower room for a few minutes while I attended to business with 
you, and look what happened." 

He shook his head in disgust.  "Anyway, Tyrone said that he would 
spare Jim's life, but he wants you to go through with your conjugal 
visit." 

"I still don't understand," she said, confused.  "You said...."

"Your conjugal visit wouldn't be with Jim," he said casually.  "It 
would be with Tyrone and his gang.  You will have to come back and 
visit Tyrone once a week, or he'll kill Jim." 

Debbie was stunned.  This couldn't be happening! 

But Herb continued.  "I told him you were trying to get pregnant, 
and he promised he wouldn't have intercourse with you.  Not regular 
intercourse, anyway."  

"I-I don't understand...." 

"Tyrone and his men will use you...the same ways they used Jim," 
Herb stated, flatly. 

Debbie started to sputter and babble.  "B-but I...I n-never...Jim 
and I...we NEVER...did things like that!" 

"If you want to save Jim's life, Debbie, I think you're going to 
have to start," Herb said, sternly.  "And start today." 

Debbie ground her teeth and punched the bed in frustration.  But 
then she made her decision. 

"I-I'll do it to save Jim's life," she said, softly. 

Herb patted her on the head.  "It won't be so bad, Debbie," he 
said.  "I know you and Jim were always liberals.  Your time with 
Tyrone and his buddies will be a great way for you to help a group 
of misunderstood, underprivileged African-Americans.  And make sure 
you're polite and respectful to them."

Smiling to himself, he then left to get Tyrone and his two cronies.    

Debbie stared dumbly into space as he closed the door and locked 
her in.  She was too stunned to speak. 

Herb dropped off Tyrone and his crew with Debbie and then strolled 
back to his spacious office and leisurely reviewed Jim's file.  The 
trial had been a farce, and it was obvious that the prosecution was 
entirely political.  Jim had reluctantly agreed to plead guilty 
only when his attorney promised him a suspended sentence.  It 
wasn't until the sentencing hearing that Jim realized that his 
lawyer had sold him out. 

Jim had overwhelming evidence that his lawyer was corrupt and that 
his conviction was unjust, but his second attorney had stolen the 
last of Jim's savings without even bothering to file an appeal. 

Herb knew that any first year law student could get Jim out of 
jail, since there was no evidence against him.  Even a semi-skilled 
attorney would avoid the appellate court altogether and go directly 
to the media, knowing that the publicity would force the governor 
to grant Jim clemency in a matter of weeks. 

Which is why the letter in Jim's file was so interesting.  It seems 
that Jim had inherited a large fortune when his uncle died, and the 
money was resting comfortably in a Swiss bank account.  With that 
type of money, Jim and Debbie could easily buy Jim's freedom.   

But Herb had decided to confiscate the letter for "security 
reasons." 

He smiled down at the small purple hourglass birthmark on his hand. 
Each of Herb's five kids also had inherited the distinctive and 
prominent birthmark.  He had showed it to Jim and had bragged that 
he knew the kids were "100% Herb" because of the family mark. 

Jim had looked wistfully at his shoes and replied, "I hope Debbie 
and I can have kids some day.  I would love to have a kid who was 
my own flesh and blood."

Herb smiled as he thought of the look on Jim's face when he saw the 
small purple birthmark on his new child's tiny hand.     

Jim had told Herb repeatedly how glad he was that he had "a friend 
on the inside." 

When Jim saw the purple birthmark, Herb knew, Jim would realize 
just how far into "the inside" Herb had penetrated.

Of course there was always the chance that Tyrone wouldn't keep his 
word, and that Jim's child would have coal black skin.  It wouldn't 
be as ironic as the purple hourglass, but still pretty amusing. 

But, whoever the father was, Herb knew that Jim's kid would be a 
cute little bastard. 

He turned on the monitor in his office to see how Debbie was 
getting along with her husband's new cell-mates.   

She was on her knees in front of Tyrone, busily sucking away on his 
long black tool while he teasingly stroked her beautiful hair.  
Herb zoomed in.  She was doing a very thorough job.  If it wasn't 
for the look of humiliation that you could see in her misty eyes, 
Herb would have thought that she was an old pro. 

He adjusted the camera and looked over at Tyrone's two flunkies, 
who were quietly biding their time in the corner of the visitation 
room, anxiously waiting for their turn. 

The two bucks were both staring at the Debbie's backside, which 
was beautifully displayed inside her snug, lacy panties.  From 
the way the two hoodlums were appraising her tight little ass, 
Herb knew that she was about to be given a crash course in 
prison sex. 

Herb smiled.  The red lingerie was the perfect "new look" for her: 
slightly slutty. 

He reached into his desk and pulled out a form.  He had a lot of 
work to do.  

He had to finish filling out the forms so that Jim could be 
transferred to Tyrone's cell. 

And now that Jim had been caught flagrantly having sex with other 
prisoners, Herb would have to fill out the disciplinary reports 
needed to strip him of his few meager privileges. 

Herb would also pressure the doctor to transfer Jim out of the 
prison hospital and into his new home with Tyrone as soon as 
possible.  After all, Herb didn't like malingerers. 

He would then have to fill out another form to get Jim 
transferred out of his cozy job in the prison library and 
into a more fitting job...the laundry, maybe, or the kitchen.  
Something with an appropriate Home Ec connection, anyway, 
since he was going to be keeping house for Tyrone. 

Then Herb would have go to the vending machine and buy some more 
M&Ms to put in the prescription medicine bottle that Jim had given 
him. 

After Debbie's gang-bang was over, Herb would walk down to the 
infirmary and break the news about Tyrone and Debbie to Jim.  
Herb knew that Tyrone would be bragging to everyone about fucking 
Jim's wife, and he figured it would be better if Jim heard about 
it first.  

Herb also knew that the look on Jim's face when he found out that 
Tyrone's gang was using his sweet, innocent wife like a cheap 
street hooker would be simply priceless.  

So he decided to break the news to his friend personally.  

He looked at the letter in the file.  He knew that he would tell 
Jim about the inheritance eventually, after Jim had signed some 
papers transferring a few million to him.  

But he wanted to wait until Debbie was barefoot and pregnant first. 
After all, now that Jim was nothing but a miserable little prison 
pansy, Herb would have to take the responsibility to see that 
Debbie got knocked up. 

It was the least he could do.  "After all," he murmured with a smile, 
"that's what friends are for." 



Edited by C. Lakewood