Carla sipped quietly at the coffee, her elbows on the kitchen table. Her eyes seemed to stare at the window where the rain was hitting. Her face had a soft puzzled look as though her mind were flirting with memories. She looked back down at the letter on the tabletop and the soft feminine writing on it. It seemed to slant back passively and Carla smiled in memory of her friend, Enid, who had always been sort of passive and shy. She thought of her white skin and her full body. Enid had never looked tough to Carla. Instead, she had always seemed to Carla as being the perfect wife, the ideal woman for a man because she gave the constant on-going impression that she was helpless and needed to be taken care of.
She looked at Enid's signature on the letter. It too had the backward passive letters. Carla smiled at her love for Enid. They had grown up together and spent the first 18 years of their life in the same neighborhood. Enid was Carla's best friend and she had just finished reading Enid's most recent letter for the fifth time.
Her eyes went back to the window. She began comparing herself with Enid, what their lives after 31 years had turned out to be. She went over their childhood hopes, her mind flicking from one girlhood fantasy to another, and she smiled inwardly, enjoying the feelings and the memories. She looked down and flipped over the envelope. Enid Slaughter, address: San Francisco. Carla knew the house, knew the street, knew the size of Enid's house, what Enid's husband looked like and Enid's three children. She was even the Godmother of one of them.
Her eyes drifted to her own address. It was typed in clear, pica letters, looking almost official. Carla smiled to herself. That was like Enid, to be completely thorough about everything she did. Carla Tucker, Assistant to the Warden, Ansville MSP, Ansville, Oregon. The MSP also was like Enid, and it made Carla smile again. Enid could never say Minimum Security Prison. It was as though she was embarrassed at where her friend was working.
Her mind flickered over what she had to show in comparison with Enid. She wondered whether it was a lot or a little. It was certainly not the same.
She knew her address could have been: Mrs. Carla Evanston, address, San Francisco, almost like Enid's, maybe even a block or two away. And her home picture could have been exactly like Enid's children, husband, the whole works. But it wasn't. She thought of her ex-husband, and wondered why she hadn't kept his name. She had changed her name back to her maiden name in the flurry of emotion that accompanied her divorce, and she was glad she did. She was comfortable with Tucker, probably because of her love for her father. But the thought did cross her mind as she sat sipping her coffee. And with that, the image of her former husband flashed across her imagination. Oddly, his penis was the thing she focused on. Did he have as much hair as she remembered, or was she exaggerating? Was his penis so bulging and purple? Really that bulging and purple, or was she exaggerating?
A shiver went thru her at the memory of his animalistic attacks. The almost obscene grunting, groaning and thrusting, mechanics of his lovemaking. The sheer violence of it. The sheer astonishment at his animal energy. At the time it had been a thing totally incomprehensible to the virgin girl she was, and even now at 31, mature and somewhat worldly, she still thought of her ex-husband in terms of revulsion. They had only stayed married a little over 3 years. But in all that time he had kept an average of 2 lovemaking sessions a day, regardless of how she felt, whether she was menstruating, whether she was tired, whether she was anything. She had been simply his sexual receptacle and he had made total use of her, employing a sexual energy that bordered on the unreal and as a result had simply blown their marriage apart.
For Carla, at the time, it had simply been a matter of survival, pure and simple survival. She had been literally a woman under attack and she had not been able to respond to that attack favorably and had almost gone out of her mind as a result. Consequently, her divorce was inevitable and one could say that her reaction to sex subsequent to that divorce was almost equally inevitable. She had sought desperately for something to focus her mind on after the divorce. She had found it in education, when at 23, an ex-wife, she returned to college and in that move simply eliminated sex from her life, at least with another person, for several years. Then, as her senior year in college came to an end, her father-a long time and highly respected prison official-was killed in a prison riot. He was her only immediate family and his loss had not only provided her with a period of intense grief, but also and inadvertently, with a subsequent outlet to her now developing and firmly entrenched loner-type personality. Her father became her guru, her hero. Her idea that she felt she had to defend. And as a result, Carla with her tough personality, turned towards the prison system as a place to work, thinking that by so doing she could maintain and even help her father's name.
Mike Tucker had been a giant of a man, both physically and personally. He had loved his daughter and she had loved him. They had been close, they had been caring and his death at the hands of a berserk gunman in the riot had been like a red-hot sword cutting through the center of Carla's heart. It had made a wound that would never heal. As a result, Carla's life, since the age of 26, had been one of total devotion to the simple premise that she would make the name of Tucker even more respected in the prison system than it already was. There were almost no men in her life. It was as though she had sought out her present location to insure that. The Ansville Minimum Security Prison was some 40 miles from the nearest social center, back in the softly rolling hills, and Carla lived in an old farmhouse that she had owned for 3 years and had refurnished and which now was a superbly modern, yet a quaint and soulful place to live. There were no neighbors within a circle of three miles. And thus it was that Carla's tough personality and her loner inclinations were called upon to a great extent for her to survive in that location.
But survive she did. In fact she was completely happy, enjoying her work and her leisure, not needing someone else in her life. For most people, Carla's sexual energy would have represented a problem. But the combination of her self-reliance and her loner attitude, along with the ugly devastating experience of her animalistic husband, had created a sexual chemistry in her mind that was perfect for the situation she was in.
Carla, one of those women who seems to exude a natural kind of sensuality at all times, and in all places, had found a solution for her strong libido. Whereas most people would have thought of her solution as temporary at the very best, Carla did not think of it that way. It was tied in obviously with her almost religious fanaticism towards upgrading the image of the Tucker name and her father was simply her God. Her energies were devoted almost exclusively to her work and yet Carla was a woman of high intelligence. Because of that she recognized her sexual needs, or put another way, her sexual appetite, and she actually enjoyed it even though most people would have said her sexual pursits were sort of perverted or at the very least different. Carla kept her libido under control through masturbation. She was an expert. When on the very few occasions in her years in working at the prison she felt the over-riding need for a man, she had taken a few days off and flown down to visit her friend Enid in San Francisco and had experienced one or several men until that need was satisfied and then she had gone back to her almost monastic existence in the hills of Oregon.
For Carla sex was not a problem. She didn't think of her sexuality as a problem, she thought of it as a joy and she experienced it with great delight almost daily. Sexual satisfaction was part of her daily ritual, almost like brushing her teeth was a daily ritual. It was a thing she did before she went to work. She did it deliberately to take any tension away. She did it specifically to allow herself to concentrate fully on her job.
As a result of her mental acuity and her open-mindedness towards her own sexuality, and her unique solution, Carla had of course almost unlimited energy to devote to her job. And the subsequent result of that was that she had progressed rapidly within the prison system, until now she held the unique position of' being Assistant to the Warden, which was an especially created title to fit the fact that she was the only woman in the prison system operating on the level at which she was operating. That level included the policing and patrolling of activities by the men in the minimum security prison. It meant carrying a gun. It meant having authority. And, of course, it meant having an unusual responsibility.
She had gotten into the position she was in through hard work. But the initial door had been opened by her current warden, Todd Anderson, who had been a long-time friend and associate of her father's, although he had been considerably younger. In fact, it was her father who had given Todd his first job in the prison system, and so there was almost a nepotistic overtone to their relationship. Todd was simply repaying her father's kindness in the only way he could. And he had made a good gamble. Carla was in no way a liability. In fact, she was just the opposite, she was a decided asset to the prison.
She lit another cigarette and folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope. She got up and made herself a fresh cup of coffee and sat back down. She still had time before she had to go to work.
She looked around the old house. Most of the decor reflected her own tastes, a soft feminine influence over the old beams and the hardwood floor, and she smiled inwardly, completely satisfied and comfortable with what she had created. She liked her world. She looked at the window where the rain was hitting. It was not a normal Oregon day. Usually the spring had a little less rain. But Carla liked the rain. It had a mood to it she loved, and her inner-being seemed to respond to that mood.
She sighed, however, knowing that some of her work today would take place in the rain and she didn't particularly care for the mud and the dirt involved with that kind of work. She had been up for three hours now, and had already studied her advanced criminology books for one and a half hours before deciding to relax and read Enid's letter again and get herself into the mood of preparation for work.
For some reason her ex-husband's cock kept sliding into her consciousness. She wondered if she was reaching the point where she had to go to San Francisco again. She smiled and put out her cigarette and walked towards the bedroom.
She stopped in the hall and looked at herself in the mirror. She enjoyed the sight of her body. She had been working in the nude all morning and the temperature of the house was cozy and comfortable. She looked at her breasts, her belly, her thighs, enjoying their voluptuousness. Anyone would have enjoyed Carla's voluptuousness. She was simply a strikingly sexual-appearing woman, quite tall and angular, with medium-sized breasts, full hips, and an extra large patch of black pubic hair which made her skin seem white and feminine.
It was, from one point of view, an illusion, because although Carla was indeed soft and feminine, she was also tough and resilient. But that actually had more to do with her personality than her body. Her body was a lover's delight. A turn-on for any man of any age. Carla was aware of that and took a great deal of pleasure in her body.
She made a face at herself in the mirror, distorting her mouth to a wide gaping hole. As she did that she playfully reached down and spread her legs and pulled her vaginal lips apart as though mimicking the face she was making in the mirror. She laughed out loud and turned and walked to the bedroom.
She checked the clock, there was plenty of time. She didn't have to leave for an hour. She picked up a large yellow terry cloth bathrobe. It was a man's bathrobe, but she loved its size and the looseness and the warmth of it. She put it around her body and went to the front door. She thought maybe she'd try the front porch this morning, it was such a moody day.
She stepped out onto the front porch to see if it was warm enough for what she wanted to do. The weather was perfect. The rain, though cooling, had a soft warmth about it that seemed to permeate the atmosphere. And as it fell softly in her front yard, and amongst the giant pines that dotted her acre, she sighed a breath of appreciation for the beauty in front of her. She went to the large rocking chair on the front porch and sat down. She looked out across her yard at the pile of firewood by one tree, at the bed of flowers she had planted at the base of several trees. It was like a park, a lovely special park that she had created for herself, except for the beautiful trees.
She opened her robe. She was not concerned whether someone would bother her. She was just too isolated and she would have heard anyone coming. It was like her own private Eden. She put her right hand along the inside of her leg and with her left, began to gently finger the nipple of her right breast. She closed her eyes, listening to the gentle raindrops. She raised her right leg and put it over the arm of the chair and with her left leg began to rock the chair in easy, sweeping strokes.
A mood began to come over her. She slid her finger smoothly down to test her vaginal opening. She knew it would be moist, but she wanted to feel it anyway. She ran her middle finger up in her vaginal slot an inch or so to get it wet, and then brought the finger up to her mouth and sucked on it for a delicious moment. Her nipple had already hardened. A chill slipped over her body, an electric sexual chill that pleased and excited her. She felt so good this morning it surprised her and she smiled to herself in appreciation. How good it felt to feel completely sensual and open to herself and know that there was nothing going to interfere with the climax of that feeling.
She put her hand back down to her moist vagina. She adjusted her buttocks slightly in the chair so that she could raise her right leg farther over the arm and open her crotch even further. She began a slow tickling of the outer lips of her pussy, working back and forth, first along one side, then along the other, keeping her pressure away from her clitoral area as much as possible, not exactly teasing herself but titillating herself gently and with great expertise.
A quick gasp came from her throat as pleasure ripped up into her stomach. It was that first burst of pleasure that she especially liked. She sighed and continued rocking.
Finally, after perhaps five minutes of the gentle stroking of her outer lips, she inserted a finger into her cuntal opening and brought some juice up around her clitoris. It felt so lively this morning. She began to hum to herself, a mindless kind of melody, but there was a rhythm to it, and the rhythm matched the gentle stroking of her clitoral bud as her right hand moved back and forth, back and forth, like the consummate artist she was.
Her ex-husband's giant purple cock slipped into her consciousness again. And this time she adroitly imagined it slipping into her vagina and feeling good, feeling hot and thick and pulsating. If he would have only known, she thought, if he would have only had any technique, any empathy, any appreciation, something might have happened.
She let the thought go, concentrating on the image of a cock sliding in and out of her now throbbing vagina. Her fingers were moving faster now and she stopped humming. At one point, as she could feel the electric impulses of sensuality beginning to burn thru her stomach, she pushed her pelvis forward slightly, reaching, trying to get that extra feeling. And when she did, she stopped rocking the chair, almost a good portion of her weight now on her left foot which was helping her push back at the imaginary cock and the very real sexuality she was experiencing.
Her mind began to fantasize and her sexual juices were flowing as fast as the rain was falling. It pleased her that her body was so physical, so healthy. She knew it was going to be an especially satisfying orgasm. Her hand moved faster. Her pelvis began to buck slightly as if fucking her finger. But it was a very subtle movement. Her clitoris was glowing like a live coal under her fingers now.
And then, very easily, and with a great surge of energy, a major orgasm surged up thru her body, seeming to melt her, seeming to burn forever, searing its way into the pleasure center of her soul. The convulsions lasted for perhaps 20 seconds. They were strong, vivid, almost jerking her around in the chair. And as they happened, as each one concluded itself, a soft animal moan of pleasure came from her lips.
The rain splattered quietly on the ground off the eaves as she rested there regaining her composure. She could hear it. She felt delicious. She felt happy. When the mood had passed, Carla simply got up and went to the bedroom to shower and get dressed for work.
She was pleased to see that she still had a half hour. She took her time in the shower, dressed carefully in her uniform, and then left the house, running quickly to her car under the oak tree, enjoying the cool spray from the rain as she did so. She would get to the office 15 minutes early. The thought pleased her. She knew she had a couple of hours of paperwork to do before she went on patrol.
She said hello to the various people she saw as she ran towards her office, anticipating her work.
It was cool and quiet in the darkened room. She flipped on a light switch and pulled back her chair.
There was a handwritten note on her desk that said "The warden would like to see you in his office as soon as possible." It was signed by Cindy, the office secretary.
CHAPTER TWO
Carla's euphoria was somewhat jolted by the stark message, but she realized it was more Cindy's way of making everything overly official than it was Todd's way of being stern. In fact, she knew he was just following his usual pattern. He called her into his office often. Sometimes to talk about her father, sometimes-and usually-to talk about her progress, very seldom to talk about business.
Still, because of the jolt, it was really the first time that day that her mind had been totally focused on her work. The day had been unusual for Carla. Unusually devoted to sexual images and feelings, and she was almost happy to be thrust back into the main purpose of her life, which was her work.
She walked happily into Todd's office. She noticed it was just 4:00 as she walked in the door.
She stood in the entrance way looking at the cold gray wall, and the equally cold steel desk, and somehow as was usual, she realized that the surroundings of his office hardly went with the large, amiable man behind the desk.
Their greeting was more like father and daughter than a warden and assistant and they talked for a few moments about pleasant things. But Carla noticed, or thought she noticed, a look of semi-concern on his face. Todd called in a cup of coffee for each of them. He asked her about work and told her of some of the plans. He had just returned from a meeting in which some new projection had been made in relations to the prison. Todd's responsibilities were quite complicated, since in addition to being the warden of this particular prison, he was on the State Counseling Board which produced not only plans but programs designed to keep the system functioning at maximum efficiency.
Finally, when the small talk had been completed, Todd leaned forward slightly in his chair, and it was then that Carla knew she was going to hear the real reason he had called her in. He looked at her a long time and then smiled.
"Carla, tonight you are to become officially Mike Tucker's daughter." "What do you mean?"
He smiled at her. "Well up until now you have never had the kind of responsibility you are going to have to have tonight. And I'm pleased to tell you about it because I know you can handle it and I know you're ready for it."
It was too vague and Carla didn't know what he meant, but she could see the look of sincerity on his face. She listened as he went on.
"What's happened is very simple, Carla. Mickey has had to go down to the State Capitol on a special mission for me and so you'll be on your own tonight, alone."
A surge of excitement swept into Carla's stomach, tightening it. Mickey was her partner, her partner on the nightly patrol. She had never patrolled the prison alone. She knew she was ready to handle it and the surge of excitement came from the realization of what Todd was saying. That tonight she would get to handle it alone. The patrol she and Mickey had handled together for several months now was simple enough. The prison, having minimum security, had only a fragmentary outposting of guards around the perimeters and their patrol mainly was to keep checking, via jeep, each check point to make sure everything was alright.
In addition to that they had the usual patrol duties of checking on the bed count and the condition of all prisoners as of lights-out time, which was ll PM. Since she had been on the job so long, she knew everyone and everyone knew her, and she could anticipate no problems. As a matter-of-fact, she anticipated the night's work more now than she had when she came in.
Thus it was that Carla spent her two hours of bookwork happily in actual anticipation of the rest of the evening to come. The only thing bothering her was the same thing that bothered her during the day-the recurring image, bizarre as it might be, of her ex-husband's engorged purple penis.
She kept pushing the erotic thought out of her mind and a couple of times had actually stopped her work and focused her mind on the problem, trying to figure out what it meant. Her conclusion was that she was nearing a time where she would have to make another San Francisco trip, but she didn't actually believe that time was on her now. Still, it was disruptive. It was disconcerting. She found it puzzling, but the most important overtone of the whole thing was that she couldn't understand why she was dwelling on something she found so degrading and base and animalistic. It certainly wasn't the type of thing that Mike Tucker's girl would be thinking about and in fact it wasn't the same kind of thing that Carla Tucker herself would ordinarily be thinking about. Her libido notwithstanding, Carla was almost totally turned off to sex with men in any way, finding the entire subject far too humiliating and degrading to consider as something she wanted as a normal part of her life.
Finally, her paper work finished, she eased back in her chair to relax. She looked at her watch. She still had a few moments. She got up and got a cup of coffee and came back and lit a cigarette. She began to reminisce as she relaxed, thinking about her job and how she was progressing and what Todd had just told her and the responsibility he had just given her. She smiled to herself. The several years of work were paying off. Her mind drifted to her early afternoon on the porch and the soft rain and the pleasing orgasm.
Finally it was time and she got up and went to her cabinet, got out her gun and her handcuffs, clipped them to her belt, and went out the door to her jeep. The rain had stopped and the night was soft and cool. There were stars in the sky and she remembered she had forgotten her clipboard. Quickly she ran back into the office to get it. She stopped just inside the door, looking down at the now familiar list of things she had to do, but double checking nonetheless, as one will do when one has a new responsibility.
Convinced that she understood it, she went outside in the darkness to her jeep.
As Carla was completing her first circuit of the perimeter road around the prison, a trip which took roughly 45 minutes, Willie Dupont was sitting at his desk thinking about her. Willie was an inmate. He was 34 years old and was anything but a hardened criminal. He had been convicted for simple mail fraud and his social awareness and his patterns of behavior were such that he was termed a "model," virtually harmless and certainly ready for parole at the first opportunity.
Willie had indeed made a mistake and was paying for it. But his instincts were almost exactly the opposite of the other, more seasoned prisoners, and-because of this Willie had been given a night job of some importance. like the Army's Master Sergeant, whose responsibility is to complete the bed check and make sure that all bodies are on hand and accounted for, Willie's job was to make sure that all prisoners were in bed and accounted for as of 10:30, so that when lights out occurred at 11:00 and the patrol came around to pick up his report at 11:05, the head office would know within moments thereafter whether or not the prison had a problem. Because it was a minimum security prison, virtually no problems existed, at least on a day-to-day basis, and consequently Willie Dupont had a soft job which not only gave him many special favors, but allowed him a great deal of free time.
It was that free time that he was enjoying while Carla made her first round. Willie had known Carla as an officer for several months now, and for all that time he had fantasized about her. Still, he had never seen her alone, she was always with Mickey, and he had no way of knowing about his upcoming surprise.
Willie would jack-off almost every night thinking of Carla as he sat, after everyone was asleep, in the front room of the barracks where his desk was located. That was something special for Willie, something realistic that he could hang onto while he served his term. And as the months wore on it began to take on more and more significance to it, even though he didn't recognize it as that.
Willie's pattern was to turn the lights out in all barracks through the use of a master switch at 11:00 sharp, according to the rules, and then retreat to his room where he would be uninterrupted and allow himself to slip into his sexual fantasies. He would sit there dreaming of Carla, most often undressing her in his mind and enjoying her body, but not touching himself, just working himself up to a state of appreciation so that when she walked in to pick up his bed check certificate at 11:05 he could enjoy her the most. It was only after he knew she had gone that he would actually masturbate. But it was the fantasy that was almost more important to him than the actual masturbation.
The patrol had gone more than smoothly for
Carla as she checked in with the 8 different guard locations. The men had been especially helpful, even had kidded her about being afraid without Mickey along, but Carla knew there was nothing to be afraid of. They had chatted amiably and she had kept to her schedule. She had made two complete patrols of the area by 10:45. She stopped at the office to see if there were any notes, any late minute pieces of information she needed to know before dropping by Willie's office to secure the place for the night.
She drank a cup of coffee and had a cigarette while she waited until it was time. As she sipped her coffee, Willie was running with her naked through a field of clover. They were laughing and enjoying themselves. They were open with each other and Willie was happy. His mind had lost all of its acuity and he was like an artist painting great warm sexual brushstrokes across his psyche as he ran thru the fields of clover with Carla.
By 11:00 Willie had worked thru the first phase of his fantasy and was back to the reality of his job. His report was finished and on his desk and he was waiting for Carla. He would enjoy her in the clover field later, but now he sat listening for the sound of the jeep-waiting.
To Carla, when she walked in, he looked just like Willie always looked, sitting quietly, pleasantly, looking up at her across the desk, the single sheet of carefully marked paper in front of him ready to follow thru with their ritual.
"Hi Willie, how's it going tonight?"
Willie didn't say anything. He was waiting for Mickey to follow her in the door.
"Willie, you all right?"
"Oh yes, yes, Carla." He was still waiting. There was something different about her but he didn't know what it was.
Carla went to the report and looked at it. Willie's mind was on the door.
"Everything seems to be all right, Willie," she said as she bent over the desk.
"Where's Mickey?"
"Oh, Mickey had a special trip to make to the State Capitol for the Warden and he's not with me tonight."
"Who is with you?"
"No one is with me. Aren't you proud of me, Willie, this is the first time the Warden has let me handle this job by myself."
When she said that something snapped in Willie's mind. He was standing up beside the desk and Carla was leaning over the desk studying the report, talking up at him as she looked down at the figures. Willie would never be able to explain his actions, but what he did would be forever recorded in Carla's mind and consequently in Willie's police history.
He simply reached across her back and took her handcuffs from her belt, quickly moving himself into position to pin her against the desk, pushing against her buttocks with his lower body strongly enough to keep her from moving. He reached around and grabbed first one hand and then the other, slipping the handcuffs on her wrists. Within seconds Carla found herself with her hands handcuffed behind her back.
Thinking back on it later, Carla would not be able to remember what it was she said when she first felt Willie's violent action. She often wondered later if she had said anything. She seemed to remember partially screaming, partially yelling, but she couldn't be sure.
Now, trapped and angry, she flared out, "Willie, what are you doing? Willie, stop what you're doing." She tried to turn but Willie held her firmly in position. He stood as if mesmerized, not moving, frozen against Carla's backside, feeling the hypnotic heat of her fantastic body as it surged up through his clothing into his own body. He knew he only had moments and his mind searched frantically, once he realized what he had done, for a solution. He wanted to carry out his actions further but was aware of the system and was aware of the fact that Carla had to alert the guards within a matter of moments or someone would come and disrupt everything he had started.
His mind became clear. He grabbed Carla's two-way walkie-talkie from her belt and held it around in front of her. His voice was lower and calmer than usual. Willie was a different person than he had been moments before. Very quietly he said, "In a moment I'm going to turn this on, Miss Carla, and I want .you to say into it exactly what you'd say if you were speaking from your office."
"Willie, I don't understand. Willie, I want to get out of here. I want you to turn me loose. I want you to realize what you're doing and the trouble you're in. If you turn me loose I'll forget it. I think you just made a mistake. But Willie, you're in serious trouble and you'll never get out of prison if you continue with this."
Willie didn't hear her, not really. Willie didn't care. The heat from her body was bothering him. He watched his watch, cold, calculating, intent on having her make the call.
"Miss Carla, please understand what I want you to do. I want you to say into this thing exactly what you'd say from your office. Now do that Miss Carla or you're the one that's in trouble."
She heard the desperateness and the threat in-his voice. She realized herself that she was due to call in a matter of seconds now. Maybe she could save Willie if she just did what he asked her to do. Maybe she could talk him out of whatever it was he had in mind, Carla felt she understood Willie, felt she knew he was not a dangerous person. She nodded her head to him.
"All right," she said, "I'll do it."
It was five seconds to go.
"Ready, Miss Carla?"
She nodded. Willie flicked on the two-way switch.
"Stations report." Carla said. It was silent for a second and then one by one, in numerical sequence, the 8 stations checked in. When they had finished, Carla said simply "All stations secure and closed for the night. Out."
Willie flicked off the switch. To himself he breathed a sigh of relief. He could keep her here in his office for 30 minutes and no one would suspect anything. He relaxed. He put the radio down. He began to focus his mind on her body.
Carla stood quietly, waiting. Then, very calmly, she began to talk to Willie. She could feel the quietness in his body and she talked for several minutes, trying to get him to talk off the handcuffs, telling him she would not report him, that he would be in no trouble, that she knew he was a sound human being, but that if he continued she would have no choice and that he would be in serious trouble. Carla was not aware of the fact that she was a fantasy image for Willie, consequently could not be aware of the effect her body and her body's heat was having on the young man.
Then, as she was continuing her quiet monologue, a profound chill swept through her body as she felt Willie's hands reach around and begin to caress her bosoms.
"Willie, no! Willie, please don't! You're making a mistake."
He didn't stop, and Carla grew silent, realizing what she was doing was not working. She began to think of Willie as a dangerous person for the first time. He was holding himself against her firmly now, caressing her, his head against the back of her head.
Perhaps he'll stop, she thought, and she held still.
Then his hands dropped down to her belt buckle, and when they did she tried to whirl her body to face him, but he was too strong for her. They struggled for a moment, but Willie's strength was a desperate strength now. He held her firmly, pushing her body against the steel desk. He unbuckled her belt and put the gun and the holster on the desk in front of her. And then he began to take off her trousers.
Carla felt his body move away from her as he stepped back in order to pull her pants down. When that pressure went away, Carla was able to spin on Willie. The move simply infuriated him and he picked her up and spun her around, bending her from the waist and pushing her head down so that it was against the desk and held her there. Carla could feel the almost maniacal strength in his hands and arms, and a cold fear came over her.
She didn't know what he would do, of course, but she knew from her studies of para-psychology that resistance at a moment like this would be the worst thing she could do, and so she stayed in place, her buttocks sticking up in the air, her breasts and face against the cold steel desktop.
Willie felt the tension go out of her body and very quickly slipped her panties off, letting them fall around her ankles.
At the sight of her bare buttocks Willie's cock jumped in his pants. Her shirttail hung in such a way that he couldn't see enough of her and he angrily pushed it up out of the way. Carla's rump was completely exposed now and Willie backed away slightly to get a better view.
As he did so he unzipped his pants and took out his cock. It jumped into the air at full erection, and instinctively Willie moved closer to Carla's rump.
But before his penis actually touched her he was ejaculating.
It wasn't an orgasm, it was only the result of the fantastic arousal he was undergoing, the semen spurting against her buttocks.
Carla felt it and realized what it was. The image of her ex-husband's purple engorged penis shot into her mind and she knew that Willie's penis looked exactly the same way.
She held herself quietly, hoping that the orgasm would calm him down and that he had satisfied whatever it was that was driving him to do what he was doing.
Willie, however, had just begun. The ejaculation had surprised him, to be sure, but it did not affect his arousal and it did not affect his erection.
He reached out almost gently with his left hand and began to rub the semen into Carla's buttocks, enjoying the texture, the sensation and with his right hand began to stroke his penis. He looked at her buttocks as if looking at a hypnotic medallion. He seemed to sway, he was almost dizzy with excitement. He could feel his heart pumping.
Then very carefully he eased the tip of his penis into the crack of her rump. From that angle, of course, he couldn't see her vagina or her anus, and so he reached down and put a hand on either cheek and spread them apart. The tip of his cock was directly over her anus and so Willie moved back slightly, wanting to see the lips of her vagina.
Because Carla was more than amply endowed with pubic hair, what Willie saw was the lovely, full, pouting lips of her vaginal opening, as the curve of her pubic mound curved upward towards her anus. A calmness came over Willie. Some of the urgency of what he was about to do was gone, he knew he had time.
He pushed her rather violently in the middle of the back down against the desk as a way of letting her know he meant business. Then he backed away and knelt down behind her buttocks. His eyes were glazed, almost out of focus. They had a wild look. His mouth was open and though his excitement was almost rearing him apart, Willie very calmly reached up to Carla's vaginal lips and began to massage them tenderly.
Willie was not a sexually unsophisticated man. He knew about vaginas. He knew about clitorises and he knew about turned on women. So it was that he was naturally curious to see if there was any moisture, any evidence of Carla's excitement.
He pulled her outer lips apart and gently probed inside, no more than I/2 inch, searching for the moisture he instinctively hoped would be there.
Carla felt this, felt it strongly as she cringed, her body reacting to the probing finger. She tried to close her vaginal lips, tried to close her crotch. She started to raise up, but Willie quickly pushed her down, rising up on one knee and reaching forward with his right hand and pushing against her back violently. Carla's training kept her in that position. She didn't know what he wanted to do, but she was sure that he was dangerous and that any kind of resistance on her part could only work against her.
It was as she was feeling these thoughts that Willie's finger began to flick at her clitoris. Only naturally she felt the warm tingle and her stomach tightened in resistance. The tiny electrical impulse of sexuality worked its way into her stomach, but Carla rejected it completely. Willie's finger continued to explore. He was using his right hand, gently touching where he thought her clitoris was, then running his fingers around the outer lips of her vagina.
At one point he stopped and moistened his finger and began to rub it gently around the opening of her anus and then back down to her vagina. He was stroking himself happily as he did this. A great and soothing calmness pervaded his system. He was in the midst of his fantasy, only this time it wasn't a fantasy, it was for real. He had never seen such a beautiful woman. He couldn't imagine anything to be more ecstatic. His finger probed, searching, enjoying the delicate tissues and odors. His mouth watered and his hand continued to stroke.
Then, to Willie's surprise, he noticed that not only were the lips swelling slightly, but that Carla's clitoris had definitely gotten bigger. He knew the blood was flowing into it.
Carla also knew it. She could feel it happening, despite the fact his finger was just too insistent and he obviously knew what he was doing.
She stood there, bent over, fighting the impulse to respond, her stomach tight, her head pounding in concentration.
Suddenly Willie felt the moisture. A soft, feminine moisture of sexual lubrication. It did not come in great amounts. Certainly nothing compared to the way Carla had reacted earlier on the porch of her house. It was nevertheless there and Willie recognized it. That he could arouse his fantasy woman was more than he could comprehend.
Evidence of moisture in her vagina completed his fantasy.
It was at that point that Willie lost control. The calmness went away. He stood up quickly and put the head of his cock against Carla's vaginal opening.
When she felt it, Carla tightened even more, if that were possible, knowing there was nothing she could do but by the same token, she realized that if all Willie really wanted to do was stick his penis in her, she could handle that and she would be out of danger.
As a result, a kind of calmness swept over her and with it a softening of her body. Willie felt it, misinterpreted it of course, but felt it nonetheless. He pushed his penis inside of her vagina. It glided in easily. Willie's penis was nothing like the penis Carla was imagining. It was slender and short and the knob was not very large. As a result it slipped inside of her effortlessly.
Warmth spread through Willie's mind and seemed to consume him. He had never felt anything quite like Carla's vagina. He began to move back and forth, wanting to enjoy all of the nuances, all of the subtleties of this fantasy come true. His eyes remained closed. His hands rested gently on her hips. Almost immediately he felt the first surges of orgasmic pleasure begin to come over him. His mind focused on the soft sucking of the inner walls of her pussy. His penis felt immense to him. It felt like it was filling her. He felt complete. He moved with all the expertise he could, basing every movement on his own feeling and his arousal was, of course, complete.
It was not necessary for Willie to move fast to enjoy Carla, it was only necessary for him to pound her buttocks with his pelvis. It was such exotic perfection the way it was, that he changed nothing, just moving slowly back and forth, his mind now totally focused on the milking and the massaging that her tight vagina was giving him. He had forgotten her buttocks, the smoothness of her skin, her anus, her vagina hairs, her breasts, everything. He was a completely consumed man for the brief few minutes it took for his own imagination to make him have what was probably the most satisfying orgasm of his life. It seemed to boil up out of his testicles from somewhere deeper than Willie had ever experienced before, surging through his penis, bursting inside her. It was almost as though he could feel it splashing against her womb.
Carla, now content that she had made the right decision, and also believing that she was now out of danger and that Willie would totally be satisfied once the orgasm was complete, was able as a result to feel Willie's movements, feel Willie's semen and to hear Willie's groans. Because she had relaxed her vigil somewhat, she became vulnerable to her own sensuality and her own responses and when-Willie stopped his movement and pulled his penis away, little did he know that his fantasy woman in front of him was herself well on the way to sexual arousal and that if he had continued the evening would have developed into a much more complete experience than it turned out to be.
As Carla's arousal went down, she still remained leaning over the desk, Willie's penis slipped slickly from her vagina, his hands were relaxed, one hand on her buttocks, the other-his left, hanging limply by his side. As he stood there the culmination of his fantasy slowly fading, he had not yet snapped back to the reality of the moment.
CHAPTER THREE
The rest of the evening had been a mixture of mental anguish and pleasure for Carla. For the most part it had been a struggle between what it was that Mike Tucker's daughter should do and her own instincts. Certainly she had broken every rule there was to be broken if she didn't report Willie. Yet, maybe there was a reason not to report him. She was of course very much aware of the impact she was making on the prison system protocol, having been the first woman to be allowed to work in an area where she was working. She knew that she had gotten that job because of her father's fame.
Yet, to report Willie would be to doom Willie to a lifetime in prison and her instincts told her that was a mistake, that Willie was not the evil person he had appeared to be earlier that evening.
She had finished out her stint at the prison like an automaton, her mind fighting the realization that no matter what she said and no matter what the reality of the moment was that she understood, she had still recognized her own response to what Willie was doing. She had enjoyed it. She had left the prison and driven home in a daze, her mind seemingly outside of her body like an abstract entity probing, searching, trying to grasp the reality of all of the facts that were available to her.
She poured herself a bath and had sunken into the hot water in an almost desperate effort to relax the tension in her body and mind. As she lay there in the water, the massaging effect took its toll and gradually the tension left her body. And as it did so she slipped more and more into the natural tendency of her physical self. She began to massage her clitoris sensuously. Slowly, her mind now more able to focus on the simple feelings she had felt earlier on and as she did so, and as the euphoria became complete, she began to respond to her finger.
She stoked herself slowly, now calm, now contented, soft twinges of pleasure seeped up into her stomach. She settled back further into the tub. Whatever guilt she felt, whatever sense of wrong doing she had, seemed to vanish in a gentle mist coming up off the hot water.
Two orgasms swept over her body. One somewhat tiny and anticipatory, the other major and all-consuming. And when the latter had passed, Carla fell gently asleep and stayed that way until the water cooled and she awakened.
She climbed into bed, her mind calm, her sleep contented.
For Willie Dupont, the remainder of that night and the following morning had been an exquisite torture of ecstasy and fear. Because he was a horny man, his mind largely was consumed with the simple pleasure he had received from the fulfillment of his fantasy. Yet there was the gnawing fear that doom would descend on him because he was completely aware of the fact that he had literally raped Carta.
Still, as he was walking down the company street the following morning on his way to breakfast, Willie was basically contented. He had somehow deluded himself into thinking that the realization of such exquisite pleasure was perhaps worth a lifetime of prison. At that point he had stopped thinking any further.
Thus it was as he walked along in the sunlight, the image of Carla's luscious ass bouncing in front of his face like a carrot in front of the rabbit, he seemed to walk faster and there was spring in his gait. Willie had simply closed himself off from reality and was contented. He was especially hungry when he walked into the mess hall and saw his old friend, Slim Alexander, sitting alone in the far corner.
Slim Alexander had spent his usual night, and this was his usual morning. He sat hunched over his scrambled eggs and sausage, staring down into the black coffee, wondering how he could possibly break loose from the dilemma he found himself in.
Slim was a career prison man, a tall, angular, somewhat hollow man with brown wrinkled skin and a hawk-like face. His eyes reflected his native intelligence perhaps more than his actions did. He had been in the prison system 18 years, now, and the dilemma he was experiencing was his exasperation at serving as assistant warden to Todd Anderson, instead of being the full warden he felt himself deserving of.
Slim was not a cunning man. It did not cross his mind that Todd Anderson had the job because of Mike Tucker anymore than it crossed his mind that perhaps he wasn't quite as adept at handling the job as Anderson was. Still, Slim was what you might call a policeman's policeman. He knew the rules. He knew the techniques. He knew how to get things done. And one of his basic strengths was his ability to relate to the inmates around him. He had their confidence. They had his confidence. He treated them as he was supposed to treat them, but there was a certain underlying and all-inclusive quality that Slim exuded that the inmates picked up on. They felt they could trust him and, basically, they could.
He was sitting where he usually sat, not by accident, but by design. The far corner of the room was the perfect place for an inmate with a problem to talk to him without being overheard by other inmates or other prison officials and it was commonly understood within the Ansville Minimum Security Prison that the corner was reserved for Slim Alexander.
A common joke amongst the inmates was to call the corner "Slim's Confessional."
Thus it was that when Slim caught the image of Willie walking towards him he was not surprised. Virtually every morning someone came to sit with him and talk.
Willie sat down across from Slim. He had a cup of coffee and he looked intently at Slim for a long time before he began to talk. Slim instinctively kept quiet, waiting.
"That Tucker woman," Willie began, "that Tucker woman is quite a woman."
At the mention of Carla's name a special alertness came over Slim. Something eerie could be heard in Willie's voice. He stopped eating and held the coffee cup up to his mouth to cover as much of his face as it could, not wanting to give away any emotions he might feel. If what he suspected just from the tone in Willie's voice was true, he knew he was dealing with a serious subject.
Willie rambled on, his voice rising slightly as his excitement grew. And, as he told Slim the story of what happened, he hysterically went into all the details. His story tended to ramble and mix. Slim listened carefully, sorting the details, picking out the pertinent facts, and as the picture became clear to him, Carla's picture also became clear to him.
He knew Carla well, of course, and he understood that she was responsible. There had been no report of any wrongdoing on his desk, and it would have been his desk where the report lay, had Carla turned Willie in. Slim realized that something was wrong and his highly analytical police-oriented mind very quickly put the pieces together. He did not understand, of course, that Carla had enjoyed to some degree what Willie had done, but he did understand that Carla was basically protecting the name of her father.
He sat quietly behind his coffee cup, letting Willie finish. When Willie had finished and Slim had thanked him for the information and assured him that nothing would happen, Slim immediately went back to his office, told Cindy that he was leaving for the day because of an emergency that had come up, and immediately drove back to his apartment.
He had relaxed a moment once there, then got out a pad of paper and began to write down facts that he knew. Number one fact: Carla Tucker was the only woman in the state's prison system. Number two fact: Mike Tucker was Carla's father. Number three fact: Mike Tucker had been killed in a prison riot and out of that had come a certain added dimension to his already famous name, thereby making him virtually a legend amongst the staff. Number four fact: Carla had not reported a rape. Number five fact: Carla had often expressed the fact that she was working in the prison system to help further her father's name. Once he had his information in front of him, Slim mixed himself a martini and sat back, put his feet up, and began to mull thru those facts trying to work out what it was that was stuck in his craw that he couldn't articulate, but which he knew was important.
He sat like that for more than an hour until it finally seeped into his mind what it was that he needed to know. Once he saw it, the answer was simple. Carla Tucker would be his vehicle to a top warden job. In fact, she would be the vehicle that got Todd Anderson out of office and him in.
He went to his desk and looked over the work schedule. Carla would be working until 1 P.M. He closed the book, smiling to himself, and began to make his plans.
CHAPTER FOUR
Slim was sitting on Carla's porch when she got home that night. Her headlights, as she drove in under the big oak tree, picked him up as he sat in the rocking chair, moving back and forth, waiting.
She recognized him immediately, of course. She was surprised to see him. But because they worked together so closely, she thought little of it. She considered him a friend. She got out of her car and walked up to the porch. Before she could speak, Slim stood up.
"Don't be frightened, Carla," he said, "I know by now that you know I wasn't at work today because of an emergency. But that's all over and I have something important I want to talk to you about. That's why I'm here, and I hope you don't mind."
Carla did mind, but there wasn't much she could do about it.
"No, No, it's all right," she said, I understand. Come on in the house."
She was annoyed at his intrusion, mainly because she had spent the entire shift involved with her own personal agony, her mind not being able to dissolve clearly what it was she should do in relation to Willie. The night had gone slowly. She had touched all the bases carefully. Mickey was back and so when she had seen Willie nothing had been said, and she had hurried home to the luxury of thinking her own thoughts without interruption, determined to solve her problem. But she could not turn Slim away, of course, because of her friendship. And as a consequence she poured him a drink, asked him to sit at the kitchen table, and sat down across from him, ready to hear his story.
She smiled at him. She could see his face was serious. "Hey Slim" she said, "this seems pretty serious. You sure I can help?" She raised her glass. And then when he didn't raise his glass she took a sip, set the glass down, and waited for him to begin to talk.
As she looked at him she realized her drink tasted especially strong and her mind flicked at that a moment, wondering if she had done what she very often did, miss-mix her drinks, knowing that she really didn't like the drink and only drank socially. It only took a small amount of alcohol to affect Carla.
As she was wondering about that, Slim leaned forward slightly and began to talk about her father. How important he was. What a fine man he had been. How he had not met him, but had heard so much about him from Todd. And then his conversation slipped into what a fine job she was doing and how he appreciated her efforts and that he knew her father would have been proud of her.
As he talked Carla became aware of a sense of foreboding. There was something different about Slim. She couldn't pinpoint it. Something about the way his eyes looked. The way he was forming his sentences. It just seemed unnatural, and as a result made her somewhat nervous. She drank her drink quickly. And then, realizing he hadn't quite finished his, got up in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness and took his glass and her own and filled them again. She was trying to be polite and attentive, but as he kept talking on about such abstract things her mind and her attention began to betray her and with it the alcohol began to take effect.
It took Slim a long time to make his point. Trying to set Carla up so she would have to be responsive to his idea, and it turned out to be just long enough for the booze in her system to begin to affect her. It was as he was talking that he recognized the glazed look in her eyes at the obvious fact that she was having trouble focusing on his words as she sat across from him. He watched her for a few moments and then said, gently, "Are you all right?"
She blinked her eyes open and looked at him vacantly and then said, "Yes, I'm just tired." "Are you sure?"
"Yes." She said. "I haven't had anything to eat and the alcohol is a little strong."
Slim got up and came around the table and took her by the arm and walked her into the living room and sat her down on the couch and had her lean back.
"Just rest there a moment. It'll go away," he said, not believing that luck would play into his hands in the strange way it was.
Carla closed her eyes. She thought she might pass out. She was angry at herself for drinking as much as she had because of her full knowledge of how alcohol affected her. She felt nauseous. She felt his fingertips caressing her forehead and his quiet voice assuring her that she'd be alright in a moment. She felt him get up and then a few moments later come back with a cool cloth for her forehead. It felt good and she relaxed.
Slim looked longingly at her and at her voluptuous body sprawled out almost obscenely on the couch and felt his penis jump in his pants. If what he thought were true were actually true, he would have a slight deviation in his plan, but the ultimate effect would be a stronger program. He sat smiling down at Carla, waiting for the liquor to take more effect.
He waited 15 minutes, until he felt that the liquor had affected her as much as it was going to. Then he moved over beside her on the couch.
The 15 minutes of waiting and the cool rag on her forehead had produced an euphoric effect in Carla. She was slightly drunk, to be sure, but a calmness and a warm feeling of eroticism had crept over her body. Her nervousness at Slim's unusual attitude was gone. She wasn't even thinking of the man near her as being Slim, but simply as a man. She lay there with her eyes closed, feeling the weight of his body on the couch beside her, relaxed, and unresisting.
And thus it was that when he put his hand on her bosom, though she grabbed at his wrist and tried to push his hand away, it was with minimum effort and had virtually no effect on Slim.
He interpreted her move as a typical female move, tantamount to when she says no she means yes, and he smiled to himself and continued feeling her bosom through her clothing. The roughness of her work shirt surprised him. He brought his other hand up. He felt Carla relax. Then, to his surprise, she said rather sharply, but without opening her eyes, "No, no. Don't do that. Please don't do that." Her hand grabbed at his wrist again, pushing away, this time slightly stronger. But he could resist the push easily and after a brief struggle she stopped. He said nothing. He kept his hands moving, feeling the full bosoms, trying to feel the nipples as they aroused themselves. But the cloth was too thick and he could only feel the sensuous bulk. His eyes drifted over her body. It seemed to sprawl. Her legs were slightly apart. He could visualize where her cunt was. His cock jumped again and he felt it begin to swell. He cautioned himself to go slowly, knowing that Carla was not that drunk, but that she was at least not resisting. If she were responding he couldn't tell for sure, but he could tell she wasn't resisting.
"No, please don't do that. I don't want you to do that," she said again, sharply, but didn't move. His hands continued to work. With his right hand he began unbuttoning his shirt front and, after a moment, had it entirely unbuttoned and pulled open.
He began to massage her bosoms through her brassiere. When she didn't resist he began to think more aggressively. That had been the first step. His first clue as to how far he could go and he had succeeded.
Carla's mind was focusing on the sensuousness her body felt. Flitting back and forth from her own body to the image of her ex-husband's thick purple cock and finally to the delicious feeling of penetration that Willie had given her the night before. She snuggled a little, seeming to sink down into the soft couch as the warm glow of sexuality began to grow in her loins. At one point she became aware of what was happening, although she didn't open her eyes. "My God," she said to herself, "what am I doing." She didn't like the animalistic aspects of it, but Slim's hands were very gentle and Slim was a reasonably attractive man. Somehow she couldn't find the strength to resist him, and so she lay there.
Her brassiere was the kind that snaps at the front and so, after a moment, Slim deftly slipped the fingers of his right hand underneath the brassiere snap and with a quick movement slipped the snaps out of their hooks and the brassiere fell away.
The soft light of the end table lamp fell across her healthy globes and Slim looked at her longingly for a moment, realizing what an absolutely luscious woman he had in front of him, also realizing how little of her true figure and her true beauty her uniform showed. His penis was half erect now and it felt good in his pants. Confidence swept over him. He was getting no resistance and now had the newfound discovery that below him was a woman he not only could fuck, but was an exceptionally attractive woman to boot.
When his hands began to undo her belt, Carla grabbed him by the wrists. And she looked at him for the first time.
"God no. I don't want you to do that. Please don't do that."
Slim looked back at her. "All right," he said, "just relax."
Carla closed her eyes. He took his hands away from the belt and began to massage her breasts again. The nipples were now standing out and were hard. He leaned forward and sucked one of them in his mouth and began to suck it. He was very gentle, his tongue flicking here and there, and he tried to be a sensuous as possible. A soft "Ooooohhhhhaaaaa" escaped Carla's throat. Slim smiled to himself. He sucked the nipple in, twirling it with his tongue, and as he did so his hands went down to her belt buckle. This time there was no resistance and he undid her pants. When he had them fully unbuttoned he very gently slid his thumbs along the inside of both her work pants and her underpants and began to push down on them, encouraging her to help him get them off.
"What am I doing," Carla thought when she felt the tug. It was so characteristic of what had happened to her several times in her life that she knew she was being approached for sex now and the quick and puzzling thought went thru her mind ... should she continue or shouldn't she? Her husband's cock, the ugly purple color of it, flashed in front of her eyes and she started to struggle and then her mind grasped the lovely sensualness of what Willie had triggered in her the evening before and she stopped. She could feel Slim's strong arms pushing down over them easily.
Slim pushed them all the way down to her knees before taking his head away from her bosom. Then he straightened up and put his hands on her bosom and began to knead them gently, all the while leaning backwards as much as he could in order to see what her lower body actually looked like.
He expected to be surprised, simply because the top of her uniform had been such an excellent camouflage for her true beauty and he expected her pants would be the same. He was not disappointed. Carla's extra full black bush seemed to leap out from her crotch at him. Slim stared at it in amazement. His mouth watered. His cock was now three-quarters erect and he was getting nervous. He left one hand on her bosom and with the other quickly pushed her pants and panties down over her feet.
Carla had stopped resisting in her mind completely. And now she started to help him. She straightened her legs and the pants slipped over her shoes.
Slim couldn't believe what was happening. He had never seen such a beautiful, luscious, female body, and he had had a lot of women in his time. He quickly took her shoes off. She lay before him virtually naked except for the shirt around her shoulders. He put his hand directly on her cunt, letting the fingers fall down into her crack. Her legs were partially opened and his fingers got immediately to the cuntal lips. He became gentle. He began to probe, first one outer lip, then the other, titillating her, trying to feel the texture of the coarse, thick hair.
When he had oriented his hand to the proper position, he gently inserted his middle finger into her cuntal opening. It slipped in and found a great degree of wetness. It surprised him. He smiled to himself. She was hot. He continued to move his finger around the outer lips of her vagina, spreading the lubrication as much as he could. His finger stayed away from the clitoral area. He was saving that. He partially stood up, but did not remove his hand from her vagina. He stood there, bending over, gently finger fucking her, as he removed his clothes. His cock, which was slender and long, stood out from his stomach now, in total erection. It was hard and throbbing and it was beginning to hurt for the need to put it into Carla's vagina.
But Slim was patient, if he was anything. He knew she was cooperating, just from the juice. He moved his finger up to her clitoral area and began to twirl it slightly around the engorged knob. He was surprised to find it was so big. It seemed to him, as he felt it for the first time, about three-quarters of an inch long, and it seemed swollen. He wondered if it was as engorged with blood and as red as he imagined it would be.
Since she was so wet, Slim saw no reason to prolong his agony. He shifted his body position so that he was between her legs, pushing them apart slightly. He felt no resistance. In fact, Carla actually raised her legs a little bit. He was amused that she had not opened her eyes. He was aware she was conscious of what she was doing and that she knew she was cooperating. But she did not open her eyes. Instead, she opened her cunt.
To Carla, as she lay there, the gentleness of Slim was the catalyst that put her over the hump and made her stop resisting all together. She recognized that she had a need for the strong, erotic tremors that she always felt in her stomach and which she had felt only the night before when a hard penis moved in and out of her vagina. Somehow the liquor had deadened her mind enough so that she could just simply relax and enjoy what was happening. Her animalistic abhorrence was gone. She did not feel base or humiliated. She felt warm instead, her vagina seemed to be on fire. And her mind was focusing on that fire when she felt the throbbing head, of Slim's penis push her outer lips apart and slide past the opening.
As he felt her warmth coming up to him thru his cock, a strange thing happened to Slim. A new awareness of the situation he found himself in occurred at that moment and he paused. His cock was only an inch or so inside her vagina. He held it there without moving. He wanted to see if she would move to meet him. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her head back slightly, and he smiled. His plan was working even better than he had thought it would. In fact, Carla was giving him a totally new dimension and a dimension to Slim's twisted mind was basically a form of insurance that his basic plan would indeed work and work to his benefit.
He put his thumb on her clitoris and began to rub it back and forth, back and forth, a slow, methodical, almost pendulum-like movement, not hard, not abrasive, designed totally to stimulate her further than she was at the moment.
They remained in that position several long moments. The only thing moving was Slim's thumb. Inside of Carla heat was building. The thumb was magic. Her entire body was responding. She wallowed in the feeling and lay there quietly, just letting it happen, her mind seemed to go blank, gone were the thoughts of debasement and humiliation. Sexual hunger replaced everything about her consciousness and she became a totally positive, sensual person as the thumb ticked off its demanding rhythm.
She murmured something that Slim couldn't hear.
"What did you say," he said softly.
"I said God, please fuck me, please fuck me."
He smiled to himself. He didn't move his cock. His thumb kept moving instead. A plan was forming in his mind. Or rather a refinement of a plan was refining itself in his mind.
Carla began to moan to herself. Long, soft Aaaaaaahhhhhhh's and Oooooohhhhhhhhhh's, not articulating any words, just feeling. The heat was now immense in her stomach and she wanted the cock that was part way in her vagina to be going all the way in and out in a slow titillating movement that she knew would satisfy her completely. She pushed her hips toward the cock, but not quick enough to take Slim by surprise. And as her cuntal opening came up towards his belly, he moved back just slightly, keeping just the head of his cock inside of her cunt.
"Do you want my cock, Carla?"
"Huh?" Carla couldn't say anything else, she wasn't sure what he had said.
"I said, do you want my cock?"
"A-huh" she murmured positively.
"Then Carla, you're going to have to beg for it." A coldness had come over Slim. He wanted desperately to drive his cock into her luscious round hot belly, and it was all he could do to keep from doing it. But he was a cold, calculating man by nature, and he was simply holding himself in control, exercising the discipline necessary to make his plan work the way he wanted it to work. His penis began to throb.
Carla felt the knob almost bounce in her vagina. A tiny rippling orgasm passed over her as this happened.
"Oh God!" she said, "Ooooooohhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
"What did you say?" Slim said.
But Carla couldn't answer. He kept throbbing his cock. Her hips began to buck, trying to get more of it inside of her. But he controlled that carefully.
"You're going to have to beg for it, Carla."
"YESSS OHHHHHHH AHHHHHHH, what's happening here, why do I have to beg for it, doesn't he want to fuck me."
"You're going to have to beg for it, I said," Slim repeated, aware that her hips were almost frantic now.
There was a long pause as she searched out the length of his cock and couldn't find it, only gaining the throbbing knob inside of herself. Finally, after several moments of sheer frustration, Carla said, "OHHHH AHAH, Yes, I'm begging you for it. Put it inside of me. Fuck me with it. Fuck me with it hard. I need that cock inside of me now. I want it driving into my cunt. Shove it into me. Please, please, shove it into me."
But Slim held still. "A little louder." He said. There was menace in his voice, but Carla didn't hear it.
"Alright," she said, she spoke louder now, "I'll do anything you want. I just have to have that cock. Shove it into me. Fuck me with it hard. Hurt me with it if you can."
It was all Slim needed. He smiled to himself. His plan was complete. He shoved his cock into her.
Slim fucked Carla for a half hour. Carla came a number of times.
When they were finished they were very close for a short period of time, smoking together and sharing a drink. And then Slim had dressed, covering up his real plan carefully, and he had simply said to Carla he would see her the next night after work. She nodded, agreeably, still totally involved in her sexual world and completely unaware of the menace that could have been seen in Slim's cold, calculating face if she would have looked closely.
CHAPTER FIVE
Carla had spent the following morning partially calm and partially troubled. The sex the night before had been just satisfying enough to leave her with a glow and she enjoyed that, as she prepared her breakfast and did her studying.
She had also had the nagging feeling of having broken one of her codes-that of having sex with someone within her business community. She knew her father would never have accepted it. She knew she had broken one of his codes. And she was troubled. She also knew that she would not have any more sex on the job.
She struggled at odd moments, trying to find the real reason why Willie and Slim had aroused her, and couldn't recall in adequate detail what it was they had done that was sexually arousing and she had fleeting thoughts that she must be going slightly crazy. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, of course, realizing that he had done something that was both appealing to her and which in after effect was something she did not want to do again.
As far as Ansville MSP was concerned, Carla would be the forever virgin. As far as Carla's sexuality was concerned, she would express it in San Francisco at periodic moments, but always under her control and without influencing her business life in any way whatsoever.
Thus it was that when she had finished her work stint and had completed her final night's report and had closed her book and was just getting her things together to leave for home, that she was astonished to see Slim at the door of her office, along with tall, broodish Derek Adams, one of the more notorious inmates in the minimum security prison.
Slim stood at the door just looking at her, not saying anything. Then, after a long moment, he smiled and said, "I said I'd see you when you got thru work tonight. Remember?"
"Oh yes, yes, of course. You surprised me. I'm sorry. Come in. Can I help you?"
Slim walked in and Derek followed him.
"You know Derek, of course. Derek Adams."
"Yes, hello Derek."
When Slim walked to the far side of her desk and simply sat down in a chair and sat looking at her quietly, Carla had no choice but to sit down in her own chair, thinking that Slim had some business on her mind. She looked at him quietly, waiting for him to speak.
When he just smiled at her and looked at her intently, she became nervous and finally she said, "I guess I didn't expect to see you here. I guess I expected to see you at the apartment."
"Yes." Slim said, "yes, I'm sure you did. But we can talk here just as well. As a matter-of-fact, I think it will be better."
His voice was cold and calculating and Carla recognized it as the old Slim and a sense of foreboding shot through her. There was something funny going on. She couldn't understand what it was, but it was something different and something dangerous. She seemed to go on guard as she waited for Slim to proceed.
"All right," she said, "go ahead, tell me what you've got on your mind."
It was most unlike Slim, she thought, to be approaching her with business after her work stint, but this could be a special occasion, and she accepted it. A few more minutes didn't make any difference.
Slim leaned forward slightly in his chair. A freshly lit cigarette dangled from his fingers, the smoke curled up, partially blotting out his face from Carla's point of view. His voice was low and slow as he began to talk.
"Willie Dupont has been very happy the last couple of days," he said.
At the mention of Willie's name a cold shiver of fear sprang into Carla's psyche.
"Willie told me he liked what happened to him with you the other night," Slim said.
"My God!" Carla thought, "he knows. No one is supposed to know. How could Willie be so stupid as to tell." Her stomach tightened protectively. Her eyes went down. Slim's voice penetrated the room.
"Willie is a friend of mine, Carla. We had a long talk yesterday. In fact, that's why I came by your place last night, to tell you about that talk."
The ominous overtones of what he was suggesting blazed thru her mind like hot lightning.
"Willie told me all about it. He really did. He told me every juicy detail."
Carla looked at Derek. Slim smiled.
"Oh, it's okay, Carla. It's okay if Derek knows. See, I have a plan. A plan to make this one of the best prisons in the system and Derek and I have talked it over already so he knows most of the plan already. Matter of fact, that's why he's here. So don't pay any attention to him."
"Don't pay any attention!" the words shot from Carla's mouth in disbelief. She paused. "How could I not pay any attention to him."
"Believe me it's alright," Slim said. "I want you to hear my plan. And I want Derek to hear my plan too."
"Your plan?" Carla asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, as I said, I have a plan to make this the finest, most upbeat prison in the system. My plan is worked out so that eventually I will get most of the glory. But fortunately I have you to help me carry it out."
"What do you mean, you have me," Carla interrupted. "You don't have me for anything."
"Oh yes I do," Slim said. "Yes I do indeed." He leaned forward now and stamped out his cigarette. There was anger in his voice. "Goddammit, Carla, let's get the truth out. You're here because of your father. You're here because your father was a famous prison man. You're here to protect your father's name. He means everything in the world to you. And you're here because Warden Anderson put you here. He created a special job for you. And every single thing about your actions here reflect not only on you, but your father and on Warden Anderson. So get it through your head that I understand that. Get it thru your head that you are going to help me. Because if you don't the word'll spread about your sexual activities with these prisoners so fast that it'll make your head swim and you'll be out of a job. Your father's name will be dragged thru the mire of a scandal like that and Warden Anderson will also lose his job. Do you understand?"
The cold truth of what he said penetrated Carla's consciousness. There was no doubt in her mind at all. As a matter-of-fact it had been plaguing her all day that her actions had been a mistake. That she should have done something about it immediately and that if word got out about it or it became known in any way whatsoever that what Slim was saying would be exactly true. It was frightening. It was defeating. And her body grew cold and clammy as the fear filtered through her body. She had a brief flickering awareness that she had indeed been right about men being animals. Her legs closed instinctively as the thought went thru her.
"Now, here's my plan, Carla. I'm sure you want to hear it. Because you're going to be a major part of it, whether you like it or not."
"I'm not going to be a part of any plan of yours, Slim. I'll tell you that right now."
"Oh yes you are. You're going to be a part of this plan."
"No I'm not. You can forget it. Get up and get out of here right now. I'll just simply go in tomorrow and spill the whole thing to the warden and you'll be in trouble. Willie will be in trouble. And everything will come out alright. Not to mention the fact that Willie will go up for rape, along with a number of other things, if I open my mouth."
"Carla, you're not going to open your mouth, believe me. Except maybe to suck a cock."
"Suck a cock?" Carla said in stunned disbelief.
"Yeah, suck a cock. That's part of my plan. As a matter-of-fact, you may suck Derek's cock tonight before the night's over."
"Your're insane," Carla said. "Simply insane. I'll do nothing of the sort. I'm going to get up and leave now. And tomorrow I'm going to report this whole thing. If I hear any more from either one of you, right now I'm going to call Todd Anderson on the phone at his home and get it out in the open right away."
"No, you're not going to do that, Carla. Do you want to know why? I know you want to know why. So I'm going to tell you. What happened between you and Willie took place two shifts ago-two of your shifts-that's 48 hours. Why didn't you tell me right away? You think he'd believe you now? What happened between you and me took place 24 hours ago. You think there's any credibility to either story? Todd Anderson will simply laugh you out of the prison system."
The truth of what he said was more than she could accept. "No!" came from Carl's mouth, and then she grew silent.
"Oh yes," Slim said, "Oh yes indeed. You know that what I'm telling you is the truth. If you would have gone to Todd Anderson immediately and told him, maybe then I wouldn't have a leg to stand on. But right now, you're the one without a leg to stand on. Right now, you're the one whose guilty. And right now you're the one who is going to be a part of my plan in order to protect your father's name."
It was too much. The concept of what he was saying seemed to sweep over Carla. In a cold wash, like a wet avalanche of chipped ice, she began to shake. It was almost as though she couldn't feel anger, only frustration.
"Now do you understand what I'm saying," Slim said.
She could only nod.
"Alright, then here's my plan," he went on. "My plan is to use you sexually with various inmates to improve their morale, which in turn would cut down on the various troubles we have here. Cut down on the number of escapes. And just in general make this prison exemplary. Not only that, but we're going to begin tonight. We're going to begin right now."
"Wha ... wha ... What do you mean," a frightened Carla said. Her resourcefulness seeming to have vanished.
"What I mean is I'm going to put my plan into effect right now. It's just that simple. Now you know and I know that there's not going to be anybody in this building until about 5:00 in the morning. So you can scream and yell and do anything you want to, but no one's going to hear you. So I suggest you stand up and take off your clothes so we can get on with this."
"I will not! I will not! You're insane." Carla said. But she knew he was right. Her mind grasped at ways to escape. She didn't think Slim would do anything violent. Derek, she didn't know. Her mind raced over the records, trying to remember what he had been convicted of. It couldn't have been anything serious, but his size was so imposing, so immense and so threatening, that it was easy to imagine him doing almost anything violent. She slumped back in the chair.
"That's better," Slim said. "I think you realize the importance of what I just said, and the truth. Do you, Carla?"
Carla stared at him. She did, but she wasn't about to let him know. Her mind was racing. But she couldn't find any answers. She couldn't get to the end of the track. The race was too long.
"Alright, Derek, let's do it," Slim said, and stood up. He smiled and Derek smiled back at him. Together they walked around the desk, one man around each end. Carla couldn't move. Slim came up alongside her chair and from behind her reached in front of her and began to massage her bosom.
She reacted violently. "No! Stop it!" she said.
"No, I'm not going to stop, Carla. You might as well relax and enjoy this."
"You can't do this to me. You simply can't do this to me!"
"Oh yes I can. I can do it as often as I want to. Because your father is very precious to you and his name is even more precious."
Carla knew he was telling the truth. She couldn't do anything to harm her father's name.
Then a strange thing happened in her mind. She began to think of ways out. Other ways than pure escape. Maybe, just maybe, this was just a gimmick, a short-term gimmick in Slim's mind. A way of showing off in front of one of the inmates. And, consequently, maybe, just maybe, if she went along with him it would all blow over. She saw no other way to go. His hands were violent now on her bosoms, squeezing them, twisting them, massaging them. He was hurting her slightly, and she let her body go slack.
Then she felt Derek's hands under her shoulders from behind, and felt herself being lifted up onto her feet. She began to cry softly to herself. Could she stand this? What would they do? Would they hurt her? She didn't know. But she couldn't fight back.
Sobs racked her body. Soft sobs. Deep, penetrating sobs. And she cried to herself softly as the men took her clothes off.
Derek turned her towards him, put his hand against the small of her back, and almost lifted her off her feet, pushing her bosoms up towards his mouth. He began to suck on her bosom hungrily, going from one to the other. Carla closed her eyes in disgust and humiliation. She could hear Slim undressing behind her.
Slim was already erect. He had anticipated this moment all day, and the sight of Carla's naked body was all he needed to become fully aroused. When he had his clothes off he sat down on Carla's chair, his cock sticking up proudly, stone hard and throbbing and he began to massage it. He watched Derek kiss her breasts for several moments and then finally said, "Sit her down on my cock, Derek."
Derek looked up, surprised to see his Assistant
Warden sitting naked in the chair with a massive erection in his hand. He smiled. He could imagine what Slim wanted him to do, and so he picked Carla up easily and maneuvered her body so that her cunt was directly over Slim's cock. She was facing away from Slim and Derek held her in that position until Slim put his arm around her belly and began to push her back even more towards his cock and with his other hand took his cock and began to probe it into her black outer lips, trying to find the opening. He wasn't interested in arousing her any more. He wasn't interested in anything except getting his cock inside of Carla's beautiful black cunt. He felt the top go inside. There was surprising moisture there. And with one move of the arm around her belly, he pulled her backward until there was full penetration.
A gasp went from Carla's throat. "My God! You're hurting me," she said. Nevertheless Slim just held her firmly. He throbbed his cock inside of her for a few moments and then finally put a hand on each of her hips and began to push upward, trying to make the deepest strokes he could from the awkward position he was in.
She felt heavenly, pressed against his manly body. He reached up and pulled her upper body back against his chest and began to massage her bosoms from behind. As he did so he looked up at
Derek.
"Get your clothes off, Derek. Get your clothes off, man."
Derek, who had leaned back against the edge of the desk watching, quickly got the idea and began ripping his clothes off.
For Carla, somehow the cock in her belly was feeling surprisingly good. But her mind was resisting the rape completely. She couldn't speak, as her body stayed frozen, unmoving and she hoped that Slim would simply come and get it over with. Vaguely she saw Derek's huge shape become naked in front of her and was astonished to see the smallness of his penis. Somehow her consciousness told her that his penis only appeared small, that his huge frame made it look small in comparison. It seemed ugly and distorted to her. It was purple like her ex-husband's cock. She thought she was going to vomit. The penis was not hurting her now. As a matter-of-fact, Slim's movements actually were feeling good, but she resisted that completely. She closed her mind to what was happening, hoping it would be over in a moment. She hoped the men would be so tremendously excited they would come and get out of her life quickly.
From behind her she heard Slim growl to Derek, "Raise her legs man and eat her out. Her cunt will be wide open.
Derek, as if he were an automaton, smiled down at her and got down on his knees between her legs. His giant right hand slowly stroking his tiny cock as he did so. He was surprisingly gentle when he took her legs and spread them and put them over his shoulder. He lowered his head to her cuntal opening, and without hesitation simply put his mouth over her clitoris and began whirling his tongue around. He was unusually accurate and a sharp tremor of sexual heat shot up into Carla's body at his first touch. He continued to roll his tongue. And then, once he got oriented to where he was, he closed his mouth and sucked her long engorged clitoris deeply into his throat.
The sudden tug at her sensitive organ made Carla jump. Her eyes were closed in disgust and helplessness but her body was very feeling and sensitive.
Derek sucked hard, making rapid movements in and out with his suction so that her clitoris was literally propelled down his throat and then back out past his soft lips and then down again.
It was too violent for Carla under normal conditions, but this was not a normal condition. She almost liked the violence. She almost felt she deserved to be mistreated. She could feel Slim's cock moving in and out of her cunt. And now she could feel her long, engorged clitoris moving in and out of Derek's mouth. A certain sensuality seemed to pervade what was going on, even though the disgust and debasement in her mind was virtually all-consuming. The nausea seemed to have gone away, but her stomach felt tight and clinched as if she were expecting them to inflict pain. She was powerless and knew she was powerless. Her mind grasped frantically at the idea of them getting this over with quickly and then her never hearing about it again. She didn't move as a result.
Derek was familiar with cunts. Derek loved to eat pussy to realize that he had an extraordinarily juicy pussy in his lips. He sucked at her hungrily. He tasted her delicious juices. He could feel the coarse hair tickling his mouth and cheeks. Occasionally he would pause and run his tongue down to where Slim's cock was sliding in and out of her cunt. The juices were turning him on. His cock was now hanging between his legs demandingly.
He put his hand on his penis and began to stroke. He worked his tongue faster and faster on Carla's cunt. And as he did so, a certain natural response occurred in Carla's body. Her clitoris simply was unable to resist the titillation.
She began to fell the heat of passion in her stomach. What am I," she thought, "A common slut. A whore. What am I doing?" She tried to push the sensuality out of her mind but it wouldn't go away. The cock felt too good and the mouth felt too good. She tried to relax. She tried to cope. But it was no use. She was getting turned on and she could feel it.
The men continued, silently, each lost in his own world of sensuality. Each building himself to a sexual climax. Each selfish. Each determined.
And it was Derek's determination that eventually was Carla's undoing. His tongue was simple magic. It seemed to grow hot against her belly. She couldn't block him out. She couldn't cancel out the heat and after a few moments Carla's pelvis began to buck back and forth slightly in rhythm to the impulses-the searing impulses of passion that were now beginning to pervade her body.
Slim began to whisper into her ear. "You see, Carla, I told you this wouldn't be so bad. You're going to love this."
"No!" came from Carla's throat, surprising her.
"Oh yes," Slim said, "Hell woman, you've already proved to me that you love it. Look at what you did last night. Look how you're responding now. Look how you felt around Willie. Don't try to tell anybody you don't love this. In fact, I'll make you a bet that it'll be the greatest year of your life."
"Year?" said Carla to herself, "Year, My God, he's thinking of a year of this." Her body went cold momentarily. She tried to struggle and actually caught Slim slightly by surprise. But he was too strong and held her in position. Besides that, Derek had her legs levered against his shoulders in such a way that she couldn't really have moved very far.
"Just relax," Slim said, "just relax. You know you're loving this. You know it's a fine feeling shooting up into your cunt. So just relax baby and fuck back,"
There wasn't really anything else Carla could do, so she did relax and when she did the demanding heat of her own sexuality began to consume her. She could feel her loins relax. She could feel her body opening up. She could feel the need for more and more of this kind of stimulation. It became beautiful to her.
It was as she was relaxing that she felt the hot spurts of semen from Slim's cock burst up against her womb, seeming to splatter against the walls of her vagina.
"Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh, Aaaaaaaaaaaaa" she heard Slim say in her ear. She felt his pelvis thrust violently against her. She felt him buck as though in spasm. And then she felt him relax.
Derek seemed mindless of what was happening to Slim, his tongue simply was whirling now over Carla's extraordinarily sensitive clitoris. He could feel the woman responding.
Carla concentrated on the tongue, no longer concerned with Slim's cock which was now growing soft and working its way out of her vagina. She didn't care about that, she only cared about the heat that was building in her stomach.
Suddenly the first ripple of orgasm swept through her. It was tiny but hot. And a soft moan came from her throat. She seemed to push her cunt towards Derek's mouth and he quickly sucked her clitoris in and began again the strong sucking motion that she loved so much. When he did that, increasing his pace considerably, he pushed Carla over the edge of a major orgasm. It seemed to explode in her stomach, catching her by surprise. The tiny one she had just been experiencing had not even completed itself as this one burst upon her.
"OHHHHHHHHHH," she gasped. "Oh AHH! YESSSS!" I'm really cuming now. I'm really cuming. A a a a a a a a a a H h h h h h h h h , AaaaaaaaaaHhhhhhhhaaaaaaa." She locked her legs behind Derek's head, pulling it as hard as she could against her cunt, and thrusting upward into his face as much as possible. Her orgasm was violent. Her stomach, her hips, her loins, all convulsing, all focusing on the passion that was sweeping thru her.
And then she grew quiet. When she did that Derek had reached the point of no return himself. He had eaten enough pussy for the moment. He stood up, his giant hands going under her armpits and lifted her quickly off of Slim and turned and laid her down on the desk.
Carla "was still swirling with ecstasy as Derek literally spun her toward the desk and she paid no attention. She reacted quickly, however, to the cold desk against her naked flesh as he laid her down. Nothing was touching her clitoris now. The orgasm had passed and the coldness made her angry. It was too abrupt. She had wanted to orgasm to last longer.
"Goddamn you!" she said, "Goddamn you, you ape." There was anger in her voice.
Derek just laughed down at her, virtually out of control now. He thrust her knees apart, her cunt was hanging over the edge of the desk exactly at the right height for his rigid cock. Without waiting he simply shoved it up inside of her.
It was not a matter of fucking her. Derek had no interest in fucking her right now. His interest was in cuming and the moment he felt the tremendous heat of Carla's cunt around his engorged throbbing cock, he began to cum.
It had been a long time since Derek had fucked a woman. It had been a couple of days since he had masturbated. Consequently, the load in his testicles was an immense one and as the semen began to burst upward through the long shaft of his cock it burned at him in a raw, ravenous kind of way and Derek's mind seemed to go blank with passion, his giant hips began to pound Carla's buttocks, driving his cock as deeply into her cunt as he could. It was a good thing Derek was not a man with a huge cock, otherwise in his state of mind he would have hurt her.
But his cock was big enough for her to feel and almost immediately the violence of his movements became contagious. The raw sexuality getting to Carla, and she began to thrust her hips in response.
CHAPTER SIX
The following morning had not been Carla's usual quiet time at home. She had not studied. She had eaten only sparingly and she was angry, frustrated, and felt completely helpless. She had spent an hour reading and rereading the letter Slim had given her. It was a xerox of a letter addressed to Todd Anderson. It spelled out in detail exactly what Carla had been up to sexually with Willie and Derek. It was a letter he had not mailed, but which he wanted her to know about. Especially wanting her to know that it was in an envelope stamped and ready to go should she decide to turn on him and not follow thru with his plan.
It was not the letter really that was bothering her, however. It was her own reaction to the situation. Naturally she was exasperated that she had allowed herself to get into the situation, but she was, and had been for the entire morning, completely aware of the fact that there was an element of enjoyment in it that she could not explain and certainly had not anticipated.
She had awakened from one of the deepest sleeps of her life, only to find the fingers of her right hand buried in her cunt, which was flowing with juice, and stroking herself slowly in her semi-sleep.
"My God," she had said, half awake, half asleep, "I'm masturbating in my sleep." But she was aware that her body was on fire. Her hips were moving against her fingers even as she awoke, half fucking her hand, half fucking the imaginary cocks that filtered thru her mind. Even her ex-husband's cock felt good in her fantasy. Somehow it had lost its animalistic quality and her hips spread in a thrusting motion as though she were reaching to get it deeper inside of herself. She had stroked herself for a good 20 minutes after awakening and had had several orgasms before she got up. She kept asking herself what kind of a woman she had turned out to be and what was happening to her. But the thought would vanish and she would read the letter. It was the letter that always brought her back to reality. She found it offensive. She felt Slim was taking unfair advantage of her. She wanted to fight back but she could not, despite all her efforts and concentration to figure out an answer to the dilemma of Slim's blackmail.
When he and Derek had left her the night before, he had simply said he would see her soon. And thus he had left her in a state of confusion because she didn't know what soon meant. Would he be back tonight? Would it be a week? She didn't know.
She ate some breakfast food, drank some chilled orange juice and had a couple of cigarettes with her hot coffee, as her mind tugged at the problem. Finally, when she had been awake perhaps two hours, her mind got a better fix on what the problem was. She did not find it funny, but she recognized it as being very real. The problem was the fact that something about giving herself to the inmates appealed to her. It didn't seem possible. They were all animals, and she knew it. There was no love to share, no closeness. And yet, something in her body would not turn off. Something in her mind clutched to the idea almost like it were a special experiment or special adventure. She was astonished how moist her vagina stayed all morning long.
She took a long, leisurely hot bath before going to work, trying to relax herself. While she bathed she had had several more delicious orgasms. She was highly aware, as she went out to her car, how sexually aroused she was and couldn't explain it.
The minute she drove past the entrance gate to the prison she knew that the word had spread. It was written all over the guard's face that checked her ID card. Nothing was said, but she could sense it instinctively. She drove in disgust to her parking place. She stopped the car and then sat for a few moments, thinking to herself at this new dimension to her problem.
Why didn't it bother her? Why did it somehow appeal to her to have the information known? She looked at her wristwatch and was surprised to find she was almost 30 minutes early. She sighed and relaxed in the seat and her mind began to drift as the pale sunlight washed across the gray cement parking lot. She was aware of the strong feeling of moisture in her crotch, and the equally strong desire to touch herself. She slid her hands inside of her pants onto her cunt and began a gentle fingering of her clitoris and her vaginal lips. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling, and then opened them, staying on the alert for passersby as her fingers rubbed a steady tattoo of erotic feeling across her clitoris.
She came almost immediately, a gentle swelling kind of orgasm that was not all consuming. It passed quickly. And she sighed again and continued to rub with her fingers. Again the feeling began to grow. This time, however, she realized that just a simple orgasm was not the answer. Her mind drifted to her ex-husband's engorged purple cock. She wished she had it here with her to insert it. She had to have a cock. She began to fantasize about how she could get a cock. Suddenly, her mind focused on Emile Donte, the young, handsome prisoner who was in charge of keeping the headquarters building clean. She knew he was inside. She knew that at this time of day he would be resting back in the storage room on some old blankets that were stored there for prisoners' use.
It dawned on her that he reminded her very much of her ex-husband and she wondered if his cock was engorged and purple like her ex's was. She stroked herself for several minutes, building her orgasmic potential as she did so, her mind racing over the possibilities of seducing Emile and getting to work on time. She realized she had almost 20 minutes. She decided to try it.
Quickly she pulled her hand away from her crotch, straightened herself, and got out of the car and almost ran into the building.
The storage room door was unlocked. She opened it quietly and stepped inside. It was dark. A thin shaft of light was coming in thru one tiny window and when her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could make out Emile's slender, wiry body sprawled across the pile of blankets just underneath the window.
She stopped, the reality of what she was doing causing her to freeze her in her tracks. She thought about leaving. And then the passion that was consuming her body overrode that feeling and she walked across the room to where Emile was lying. She glanced at her watch. She had seventeen minutes. Quickly she undid her belt and slipped out of her pants and she was naked from the waist down.
Emile's face was turned away from her slightly and she could hear his even breathing and could see that his eyes were closed as he slept. She slid the fingers of her right hand into her cunt. Astonished at the moisture, even though she had just been playing with it in the car, she finger fucked herself gently with long deep strokes as she stared down at the-likeness of her ex-husband. She was astonished at the similarity of the two men. Now if he only had a thick, engorged purple cock her moment would be complete.
Without hesitation, and without any consideration of what Emile might do, she reached forward and began unbuckling his pants, trying to get at his penis.
At her first touch he awakened, sitting up suddenly, surprised, somewhat startled and not a little afraid. But he recognized her and stopped in his movement. Then he recognized that she was naked from the waist down and that froze him in a half-risen position.
"Emile, it's Carla. Do you recognize me?"
"Yes, yes, I recognize you. What are you doing?"
"Emile," her voice was husky, pleading, "Emile, I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you?"
The boy didn't really know what to say. "Yes ... I guess it's alright. I don't know."
"It's alright," Carla said, "believe me, it's alright! Nobody knows I'm here. You can't believe how hot I am Emile. I have to have your cock. Please let me have your cock." Her fingers were all busy at his waist and now she had his pants open.
For a brief moment he stopped her with his hand and then relaxed and took his hand away. "Alright," he said quietly, "alright." He let his body go slack, back onto the blankets and Carla began to open his pants and pull them away from his crotch. He raised his body slightly as she tugged and she pulled his pants off over his shoes.
His cock lay softly against his body and Carla pounced on it like a hungry animal. She was almost too violent and Emile brought his head up quickly and then realized what was happening and relaxed again.
Carla knelt beside him, holding his cock in her hands looking at it, pulling the skin down over the knob and stroking it gently, trying to see if there was some life in it. It only took a moment before Emile's cock began to respond. It had potential. Carla could see that. Perhaps it would be engorged and purple. She put her mouth over the end and began to suck. The power in her loins was crucifying her, she wanted cock so badly now.
As she stroked his cock and watched it grow she grew introspective, knowing she had to wait a few moments. What was happening to her? Why was she doing this? Why was she loving it? She had no answers. She kept telling herself that maybe, just maybe by giving herself to prisoners she could improve the morale of the men and also satisfy her own strong sexual needs. But she knew that was just a rationalization and that she had nothing to back it up with factually. She was also fighting disgust of herself and a newfound feeling of enjoyment of herself that she hadn't known for a long time.
She pulled at the young boy's rigid penis happily. It was swelling now and growing thick. Her mouth worked around the knob and she enjoyed the feeling of it growing inside of her mouth. She pulled her head away to see what it looked like now that blood was getting into it. It was indeed turning purple. She smiled and plunged her mouth back over the now-thickening cock shaft. She felt Emile's hand on her leg and realized he was reaching for her. She adjusted her body so that his hand came in contact with her cunt and felt the long slender finger slide upward into her in one glorious thrusting movement. She sighed to herself. He was going to be alright. He was going to be hard in just a moment and she could sit down on his cock and feel that glorious feeling that had been driving her crazy for the last several minutes.
As soon as his hand came in contact with her cunt and he began to feel the juiciness and the sensuality of it, Emile's cock became rigid. It was like an instant hard-on. A fantasy coming true in this dark little hideaway. He relaxed. This was going to be alright. This was going to be beautiful in fact. He hadn't felt cunt in over two years. Now he had this beautiful one making itself available to him. He didn't care to question what was happening. He knew who Carla was. He had spoken to her many times, of course. He had even fantasized about her as he masturbated. But she had been so far removed from the spectrum of his own reality that he had never taken it any farther. His main fantasy was always his girlfriend back home whom he imagined was waiting for him. But now he was totally focused on Carla's body and the tremendous heat her mouth was generating in his own cock.
He knew he was going to cum in just a moment.
Carla sensed his nervousness and realized suddenly that she was sucking on him very hard and that she would indeed make him cum if she weren't careful. That was not the reason she was there. Quickly she stood up and straddled the boy, sliding her cunt directly over the tip of his cock. She held her body away from him for a few moments, both hands reaching down stroking his penis. Her eyes had adjusted to the light beautifully now and she could see Emile's cock in its engorged state and she smiled to herself. It was remarkably similar to her ex-husband's cock, the cock that had taunted her for the last several days.
She closed her eyes and lowered her body until she felt the tip of the hard penis touch her outer lips. She began to move it back and forth across her clitoris. She could feel the heat burning up into her stomach. It seemed to pour out of the young boy as though all his energies were focused on his penis and those energies were shooting upward into her body. Her stomach, her thighs, her pelvis, even the area behind her breasts, seemed hot, totally receptive to whatever aspect of maleness Emile could give her.
She felt the gentle tiny orgasm shudder across her psyche. Her body quivered a moment, glorying in the feeling. She rubbed the head of his cock rapidly back and forth across her clitoris and then in one quick movement simply lowered herself onto the cock until it was fully embedded in her belly.
The move was so quick it made Emile raise his head and he looked at her closed eyes. He could see the passion on her face. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. She was so beautiful. She was everything he could imagine. He pushed his pelvis up, trying to probe as deeply as he could into her stomach. The heat was heaven. He wanted her to move. He wanted more friction.
And move she did. Carla now was a mad woman, almost literally. Her mind had sort of slipped out of gear and her total thought pattern was constructed around the heat in her belly. She began a strong back and forth fucking motion with her pelvis, pushing it towards his head and then drawing back, fucking, fucking the young man as hard as she could.
The minute she did that, of course, her clitoris began to rub against his pubic mound and wave after wave of erotic pleasure crashed thru Carla's body. She began to orgasm. It was gigantic, sweeping, swelling.
"OHHHHH! AHHHHHH!" she said, "Oh my God, that's so beautiful. Emile, your cock is so beautiful in my stomach. Let me fuck you and fuck you and fuck you." She was talking to herself almost, but Emile heard her clearly.
He opened his eyes. He couldn't believe what was happening. He pushed back, trying to synchronize his own hip movement with her strong fucking movement. It was very difficult. Most importantly, however, he knew that the tremendous friction she was generating would make him cum in a matter of moments. He didn't care now, he just hoped she could cum along with him.
Emile was not really in synchronization with Carla. Everything was a surprise to him, whereas everything had been planned to her. Her passion was demanding. It was almost cruel. Had she been stronger she would have hurt Emile. But the ratio of strength was perfect and the thrusting of her pelvis was an ultimate kind of pressure for both herself and the young boy. And as the major orgasm she had been wanting for so long began to sweep over her, Carla began to sob to herself softly ... . "AHHHHHHHH, that's so beautiful. Ohhhhh, Emile, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum on your beautiful purple cock. I'm going to suck your beautiful purple cock way up into my belly and you'll never get it back. It's so beautiful! So beautiful!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhaaaaaa, Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa, Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh!"
When it had passed, the orgasm left Carla weak and non-resisting. She simply collapsed on the young boy's chest, holding him with her arms, her sobs of passion still racking her body, her cunt still contracting about his rigid cock. And it was those contractions that made Emile cum.
He didn't quite know what to do because he was mistaking Carla's sobs for sobs of pain and so he didn't move very much as the semen began to pound out through the long tube of his penis and splatter hotly against the inner walls of her vagina and onto her cervix and the entrance to her womb.
It was a moment of pure delight for Carla. It was unexpected. The heat from his semen was something she hadn't anticipated and it seemed to fit perfectly with her mellow mood and she lay there, almost as if frozen, enjoying the spurts as they hit.
Somehow, her awareness of time had not left her, and after a moment she glanced quickly at her wristwatch. She had 4 minutes. She sat up and looked down at Emile longingly.
"That was beautiful. I hope you didn't mind. I just had to do that. Now I've got to go. It's almost time for me to be to work. Do you understand?"
Emile just looked at her. He didn't understand.
He heard what she was saying, but he didn't understand, so he just looked at her.
Carla, interpreting his look as one of acceptance, slowly pulled herself off his cock, allowing herself the extra pleasure of feeling it slip from her body, hearing the soft sucking noise as they separated. Then very quickly she put her pants on and straightened herself up and reached forward to touch his hand.
"Emile, thank you," she said. "You'll never know how much I appreciated that. I'll let you know later. Goodbye for now."
And she was gone out the door.
The night went smoothly enough. For Carla it was a night of partial work and partial reminiscing. As far as the work went, it seemed somehow to be easier and smoother. If she wasn't mistaken, she caught a slight difference in the attitude of some of the prisoners she had to do business with, but she couldn't be sure. As far as reminiscing was concerned, it was mostly philosophical, based on the idea of what had Slim inadvertently opened up for her. Certainly she was aware of her own sexuality, but it had never occurred to her to express that sexuality in the work environment. But the memory of Emile was beautiful and even the memory of Derek and Willie had its good points. Though ugly and animalistic and certainly something she didn't want to do again, especially the Willie part, she was emotionally tough enough and realist enough to accept the fact that she was enjoying it.
Added to that was the ever-recurring thought which seemed to be getting stronger and stronger as the hours went by, that somehow, some strange way, her sexual favors to prisoners might actually help the prison system. It seemed absurd to her. She knew it was an absolute breach of the code. And yet, it was there, lingering in her mind. Each time it occurred she would put it out, but it kept coming back.
When the evening's work was over and she was closing up her desk, she half expected to find Slim again standing in the door. But that was not the case. She went to her car and drove home. And as she drove in the driveway she again began to expect to see Slim somewhere around the house. But again, she was disappointed.
She was aware of her disappointment. Was it disappointment, she asked herself. Why would she be disappointed at not having her blackmailer show up. She quickly put it out of her mind, went into the house and for the first time in a long time, fell heavily into bed and into a sound, sound sleep.
She awoke the following morning just as she had awakened the previous morning-her fingers buried in her cunt, her body bucking back and forth, already in a state of high arousal. And she lay there in complete euphoria, her sexuality expressing itself deliciously, her fingers pounding at her cunt in a gentle, feminine rhythm that evoked quiver after quiver of minor orgasm. And it was only after perhaps 10 minutes of this that her eyes blinked open and found herself staring directly into Slim's smiling face as he sat at the foot of her bed watching her masturbate.
like a flashbulb going off, pure blind anger spread through Carla's body. She sat up violently.
"What the hell are you doing here," she said. "What are you doing in my house? Just get up and get your filthy mind out of here. And do it now, before I call the warden and have you arrested."
Though his mood was gentle and his spirits high, Slim reacted with equal anger. He stood up, his long angular body now hovering over the bed as he came close to her. He didn't touch her, he just looked down at her. And as he spoke there was no questioning the menace in his voice.
"You, young lady, are the one who can calm down. You just lay there and shut your fucking mouth. You and I are going to have a talk. We never have really completed all the details of my little plan and we're going to do that now. So if you're calm enough you can get up and make us both some coffee and we'll finish this. If you're not, you can just lay right there in that bed and I will finish it for you."
Carla knew there wasn't anything she could do.
"Oh," she said, and swirled away from him plunging her head back down to the pillow, her back towards him.
As she lay there Slim got on his knees on the bed beside her so that his head could be close to her head.
"I want to make sure you hear this, Carla, my sweet. So keep your ears open. Tonight when you get through work the plan goes into effect." He paused, and as he paused a cold clammy hand of fear tightened around Carla's stomach. She had heard the word tonight clearly. She had hoped that this would not happen. She had hoped that perhaps the incident with Derek and Slim had finalized everything. But now she knew it was not true. She didn't move. s
"I want you to be very clear as to what I'm saying," he said. "When you get through work tonight I'll be waiting. And I have a little program worked out which I'm sure you will enjoy. And don't tell me you don't enjoy it, honey, cause I've already seen you in action, remember? Do you hear me, Carla?" She didn't respond. "Carla, do you hear me?" Nothing.
He reached forward and grabbed her shoulder and shook it violently. Pain arched across her back.
"Yes! Yes, I hear you," she shouted into the pillow. "Now get the hell out of here."
Slim could hear her sobbing as he walked out the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gloom seemed to shroud the walls of Carla's office for the first hour or so of her shift and made her want to run screaming from the building. She controlled her impulses by concentrating on the bookwork on her desk, the details of the day before. She felt heavy and listless and nothing was easy. Her mind seemed clogged with fear. Whereas normally her natural resourcefulness and independence would have brought her out of her mood and solved the problem, this day was decidedly different.
Slim's final words "tonight, don't forget tonight" hung in her mind heavily. She kept pushing it out, telling herself she would handle tonight when it came. But it kept recurring and added to the heaviness of the mood she was in. . She was not so depressed, however, that she couldn't notice as she moved around the building, in and out of the various departments, that the treatment she received from the inmates she contacted was indeed different. They seemed to be friendlier, less hostile, more cooperative, and she knew the word had spread. Had their reaction been any different she wouldn't have been able to cope. But because it was pleasant and much lighter, and therefore much easier than ever before, it somehow blended in with her own mixed emotions about what was going on. The biggest stumbling block Carla had to face personally was her absolute and clear awareness that her emotions were mixed about what was happening. Had she had any other evidence than the moisture in her own crotch, she would have pushed it out of her mind. But the ongoing and tantalizing wetness she felt throughout the day was a source of both pleasure and puzzlement for her.
If Willie Dupont had aroused her slightly, Derek most certainly had aroused her more, and Emile had absolutely transcended any expectations she might have had. A softness was in her heart about Emile. She pondered that at odd moments. Was it because he resembled her ex-husband-she didn't think so. Maybe it was because his penis was almost an exact duplicate of the fantasy penis that had been in her mind for days now, and she had finally realized that fantasy anew. She really didn't know-the experience with Emile had been quite lovely and all consuming and she recognized that and admitted it.
Still, Willie Dupont had been as animalistic as any man she had ever met, and certainly Slim and Derek combined were base and animalistic and the thought of what she had done with the two of them was especially humiliating.
As she worked through the papers she absolutely could not comprehend how she had ever begged Slim for his cock. It was a thought that not only bewildered her, but seemed like a dream, like perhaps something she had read, but certainly not something that had actually happened to her. Yet she knew it had. Then there was something else-when would she hear from Slim? He had said tonight, but in the back of her mind was the always onimous, always threatening thought that at any moment he might appear and she dreaded that. Yet, as the day went by and she completed job after job, nothing came from Slim. He did not appear. He did not call her. She knew he was in the building, she had heard his voice from another room, but he had given her no attention and no contact.
She thought at one point of going up to him, approaching him in the office atmosphere and telling him straight out that whatever he had in mind absolutely would not work, would not be accepted, that if he tried to do anything more she would simply go to Warden Anderson and expose the entire thing. Then, as always happened, her mind began to tick off some of the points that Slim had made in rebuttal of her previous threats, the most salient of which was that Todd Anderson would simply not believe her since she had waited too long to report what had happened. It would sound like a lie. It would sound like a cover-up, and she would not be believed. She knew Slim was right in that respect.
Then, about 45 minutes before she was due to go on patrol, and as she was sitting at her desk sipping some coffee and smoking a cigarette, her mind reeling over the various aspects of what had happened to her and what seemed to be about to happen, Cindy had called her on the phone and said that Warden Anderson wanted to see her in his office.
At first a threat of panic shot through her consciousness. Had he been reading her mind? She couldn't cope with the fact that he was thinking about something else totally different than anything that she was thinking about. It was only natural that she had the feeling. And she got up from her desk, almost angrily, as though resisting being pushed into a situation she didn't want to be in. She ground out her cigarette, picked up her coffee cup and walked into Todd's office.
He was sitting at his desk, a pile of handwritten letters in his hand and he looked up when she walked in and greeted her happily. He was an old friend and his friendliness was immediately obvious to Carla. Her tension seemed to vanish, she relaxed as she exchanged pleasantries with him and sat down.
"You remember these," he said, waving the letters at her.
She tried to see what he had in his hand but couldn't make it out.
"No, I don't think so."
"They're your father's letters to me, remember?"
"Oh yes." Carla had read them several times in Todd's presence after her father's death.
"Well I was just reading them," he said. "I enjoy reading what he wrote. There's this one, you remember, where he talked about his beliefs in the rightness of our prison system and how much it meant to him in the overall concept of his life."
Carla remembered only too well. It was like her bible. She had devoted the last several years of her life to that very ideal.
"I thought maybe you'd like to take a look at them again before I put them back in the vault. That's why I called you in." He held them across the desk.
Carla reached out automatically and took them. She recognized her father's handwriting, it was almost like printing. She could remember how he used to write-deliberately, heavily, taking great pains to form the letters and to form the thoughts. A softness came over her at the image of her father. She read one of the letters quietly to herself, and then looked up.
Todd was smiling at her. "He wrote very well, didn't he. His thoughts are very clear," he said. They talked about the letters for a few more minutes. Finally his face grew a little more serious and he looked at her intently. Carla felt her stomach tighten. She looked back at him.
"I've been meaning to tell you," he said, "that I think you have handled your new responsibilities beautifully. As far as I can see there are no hitches and everything is going fine. So, I just want to congratulate you. Your handling of the patrol the other night when Mickey had the special assignment, was especially good. So, I just wanted you to know that."
Todd wasn't a man for expressing himself too openly, and he smiled to cover up his own embarrassment.
"Wow," Carla said to herself, "if he only knew what happened that night." Obviously he didn't, or he would not have said what he just said. Her mind softened. She seemed relaxed now, almost for the first time that day. She handed back his letters and stood up, said goodbye and left the office. She was due on patrol in 7-I/2 minutes.
She went quickly to the bathroom, and while there her mind focused on her vagina, the wetness in it. She ran her fingers over the outer lips in disbelief. She was aware of the passion inside of her. She glanced at her watch. There was no time for anything but to get ready. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled and shook her head and then went back to her desk to strap on her belt and pick up her clipboard.
Mickey was waiting in the jeep when she arrived. The rest of the evening was as normal as any evening on patrol, relaxed, friendly with the various people she met, everything business-like, no trouble. Except for one single incident, and that was when she had stopped by Willie Dupont's office to pick up the final night report.
He had been unusually polite and sincere, a thing that immediately brought Carla to full alert because it was not like him. His report was complete and business-like and she would remember for the ensuing two hours the penetrating, almost devious look he gave her as she said goodbye and started out the door. It was a look that shot through her protective devices and penetrated her inner being. There was something evil about it. And yet, Willie was standing calmly and politely behind his desk, a picture of innocence.
She tried to blot it from her mind, but the image stuck with her the rest of the evening as she and Mickey made the numerous calls around the periphery of the base, and when her patrol was over and she got back to her office to fill out her final papers, Carla was in a relative state of calmness. Somehow the prospect of Slim being there waiting for her had vanished from her mind and she worked intently over her papers. She was hurrying now to get her paperwork done, anxious to be on her way home.
She was bent over her desk with about five minutes left to go when the tall, gaunt frame of Slim Alexander filled her doorway. She was not aware of him, and thus it was that when she put her signature on a report and put it in the manila folder for pick up, and stood up and turned to leave, a tiny scream escaped her throat at the ominous image of the tall man waiting there quietly for her, a broad smile on his face.
"I'm early," he said, casually. "I didn't want to miss you." His menace was clear. Carla froze in her tracks.
"If you're ready you can just come with me," he said.
Anger swept across Carla. "No, goddammit. I told you before, absolutely not. I'm not going anyplace with you, it's all over. And one wrong move on your part and you'll be in worse trouble than you ever imagined yourself to be in because I will go to Todd Anderson. I do have his confidence."
Slim reached in his back pocket, almost casually, and withdrew a letter. Carla's heart seemed to freeze at the sight of it. She had seen it before. Somehow she had forgotten it. Slim just waved it at her.
"You haven't forgotten this have you?" he said.
Her head went down. She paused beside her desk, almost helpless now and not knowing what to do.
He came over and took her arm and said to her almost gently, "Why don't you come along. I really think you're bluffing anyway because I know you enjoy what's happening and you have no idea how the inmates feel about it." He tugged at her arm and began to walk and she stumbled along beside him. She didn't know what else to do.
When they got to Willie's office Carla was astonished at the coincidence of the position Willie was in. He was standing almost exactly the same way he had been standing when she left two hours earlier with the report. This time, however, the look on his face was different.
'Then almost immediately she became aware of the other men in the room. She looked at them. Frank Mattson she knew. As a matter-of-fact she had been very friendly with him. He was in charge of Company B, just the way Willie was in charge of Company A. He was a bunco man, was up on a bunco rap, and he was a relatively harmless man. He was quite handsome, rather thick and perhaps two years older than her. She felt instinctively like smiling at him, but the fear in her stomach didn't allow that.
Just in back of Frank stood the silent, mysterious man that everyone respected and no one called anything but Parlay. It was an affectionate term, out of respect for his reputation. And he was up on a rap for transporting stolen federal bonds across the state line. It was a relatively light sentence and both Frank and Parlay had been in the prison less than two years. Parlay was in charge of Company C.
Carla stood staring at the three men for a brief moment and finally realized that what Slim had in front of her were probably the three most influential inmates in the prison, the combination of the three controlling virtually every inmate there was.
The arrangement began to make sense to her. She could see thru Slim's shallow thinking. If he offered them sex with her, then it stood to reason that they would have a better feeling about the prison and that would be reflected in the men they controlled. She was aware that somehow the idea appealed to her. None of the men were ugly or repulsive to her and in fact she actually knew them all and called them by their first names. Slim, of course, could not understand what was going thru Carla's mind.
He stepped forward and said, simply, "Well, here she is, gents, like I told you she would be, and she is yours from now until approximately 4 hours from now when the next patrol comes around, to do with exactly as you like."
The almost child-like simplicity of what he had said, coupled with the ugliness of it, caused Carla's stomach to churn in hatred and fear and for a moment, as she stood there, she felt weak and like she might be sick to her stomach. Then, almost instantly, that vanished.
"You're crazy, Slim," she said. "You're insane. I'm not going to do a damn thing you want me to do. These men am friends of mine."
'These men, Carla, would love to have your body to play with, and that's exactly what they've got. So make up your mind that that's what's going to happen." His voice now was heavy with threat and Carla had no question at all but what he would follow thru with the letter as he had threatened.
A familiar helplessness came over her and she stood there not knowing exactly what to do. Then she was jolted as Slim whirled to face her and began unbuttoning her clothing. She whirled away from him on instinct, but he grabbed her and said, "Just hold still. Don't fight this." There was no mistaking the danger in his voice. He was far too strong for her, and so she stood helplessly as Slim continued to unbutton her work-shirt.
The three men, because of her friendliness with them in the past, suddenly became embarrassed. But their minds were not the minds of the average compassionate man and their embarrassment turned quickly to glee and a sort of idiocy, especially on Willie's part.
He jumped around the desk, shouting "Slim, Slim, wait! Let us do that." And almost instantly he was in front of Carla.
When she thought about it later, Carla couldn't really remember the next moves the men had made. She only realized that within seconds she was completely naked and so were the men. She realized also she had a glass in her hand. She could smell the whiskey. She didn't like it, but she quickly drank it. The men laughed, almost in the background.
Frank and Parlay sat down on chairs, Willie was leaning against the desk. Carla was also by the desk, and Slim was just beside her.
"Carla," he said. "You are going to suck every one of these cocks. So why don't you just get started."
"No," she said. "Never. I can't do that. I wouldn't be able to do that."
"Don't tell me that," Slim said, "don't tell me that. I've seen you in action, remember."
She felt herself being pushed towards Frank. "Just start with Frank, Carla. Just get busy on Frank's cock."
It was all so mechanical, almost like a room full of robots and Carla was aware of that. But she was also aware of a kind of excitement in her body that she hadn't anticipated.
"Get down on your knees between his legs and start sucking on his cock, Carla," Slim said. He pushed her forward and suddenly she was between Frank's knees on her own knees and his cock was only inches from her mouth.
Almost defensively she put her hands up on his naked belly on either side of his cock, which was limp and hanging out from his pubic hair, almost obscenely. She stared at his penis, her mind whirling. There didn't seem to be anything to do.
And then the thought occurred to her, as it had the night before, that maybe-just maybe-if she went thru with this, Slim would give up his plan. It seemed the only thing to do.
Then, as she sat there, her mouth only inches from Frank's penis, she became aware of the fact that his cock was actually growing.
She could feel the moisture in her crotch and it seemed to blend in almost a bizarre formula with the hatred she felt, not for the men themselves, but for the animalistic qualities they were showing, and for the debasing, embarrassing attitude they were putting her in. Her mind fought the two impulses. And then her nose began to smell the animal smell of Frank, and it was exciting to her, and slowly, very slowly, almost as though she were resisting, she began to move her mouth forward.
His cock was half hard when she finally got her mouth close enough to it so he could feel her breath on the tip of it. He moved his hand down and raised his cock slightly, as though offering it to her. When he did that Carla paused and raised her head and looked up at him, into his eyes, almost helplessly, beseechingly. Frank smiled back at her, but didn't change his expression of anticipation. She sensed strongly that no harm would come to her, that the man had needs for her almost as much as she had need for him. She opened her mouth and took the knob of his penis inside her lips. She was aware of the silence in the room. She could hear the men breathing. It was almost like a moment in a play, a dramatic moment, loaded with tension and she was the star, she was the one who could make the play work or fail. She was the one who could bring the curtain down or the applause up. Her mind seemed to be foggy and unclear. She became aware of the fact that she was enjoying the drama-enjoying her role in it.
She began to work her mouth, mainly her lips, very gently around the now swelling knob of Frank's cock. It was not a particularly large cock in terms of length, but it was thick and heavy in her hands and she enjoyed the feel of it as her tongue moved around and around the knob, not taking it very far into her mouth, just playing with it, enjoying the feeling of it growing inside of her.
She could feel the veins beginning to stand out along the bottom of the shaft. She closed her eyes and opened her throat slightly and put her head farther down over the shaft. It felt like velvet, soft, yielding, sensual. She began to get into the experience. She felt Frank shift slightly in his chair, thrusting his pelvic area towards her face in the process. She imagined that her mouth was on her own clitoris, or that somebody else's mouth was on her clitoris and that she would feel the same impulse-to shove it forward, to get it deeper into the sensual mechanism that was titillating it.
As his cock grew in size and in stiffness, Carla became lost in the euphoria of what she was doing. She was startled almost when Frank said, quite clearly to the other men, "Jesus Christ, she's great."
There was no other sound. She heard the floor creak at one point when Willie moved to get a better point of view. But otherwise the room was total silence except for the gentle sucking sound of her lips on Frank's now stone-hard and throbbing cock.
Somehow time seemed to pass. Somehow Carla became deeper and deeper into her own sexual capacity. And it was as this was happening that she felt a pair of hands on her hips gently lifting her upward onto her knees so that her fanny was sticking out more obviously. She cooperated, because there was nothing violent about it, and hardly paid any attention to it at all until she became aware that a body was settling in back of her and then almost instantly she felt the thick probing push of an erect penis as it slid between her outer vaginal lips into the wet channel of her cuntal opening. She pushed back gently, searching for more of the heat that she knew was there.
Immediately the penis began to move in and out of her. And just as quickly a sensual, sympathetic rhythm occurred between Carla's backward push and Parlay's forward push.
The room grew silent once again. She could hear Parlay's heavy breathing, but she didn't know who it was. Then, after a moment of this, in which the feelings were growing on everybody's part, Carla stopped sucking on Frank's now stone-hard cock and raised her head and looked over her shoulder. She wanted to see who was behind her, of course, and she also wanted to see what was going on in the rest of the room.
Willie had moved to a chair along side of her and was sitting there gently stroking his now erect penis as he watched. Slim still stood by the desk, his own penis now semi-erect, his own nervousness about the situation now gone, which enabled him to get into the sexual aspects of it.
She felt Parlay's arm reach around in front of her stomach and his finger began to rub back and forth sensually across her now engorged and throbbing clitoris. She recognized instantly that he was a sophisticated lover and she relaxed even further. A man of mystery to everyone, Parlay was now suddenly not a man of mystery in sexual areas to Carla. She recognized the touch of an expert and she fell even deeper into her own sensual capabilities because of the confidence he instilled in her through his touch.
She felt the first tremor of orgasm slip up into her belly. It was tiny, almost incomplete, but she knew it was the beginning. Electrical impulses, sexual in nature, shot up into her groin and her belly, up into her chest behind her breasts, her stomach began to feel soft, like melted butter, her insides hot, like glowing coals. Her mouth went deeper and deeper and more sensuously around Frank's cock. And then, without warning, she felt the first hot spurt of Frank's semen as it hit the back of her throat. His hands simultaneously grabbed the back of her head and held her impaled over his cock and she was forced to swallow. At first she gagged, mostly because of the surprise, and then she began to swallow to protect herself. There was too much semen and after it filled the cavities of her throat it began to dribble out over her chin and run down her neck.
She could hear Frank moaning as the orgasm quivered thru his body. It was an exciting sound. And now Carla was into the sensuality of the situation completely. She gulped at his penis as if hungry for semen. Her mouth was moving in a sensual slow way, but Frank could feel the convulsions of her throat.
Finally he sagged in the chair beneath her. She very gently began to caress his penis with her tongue and with her soft lips, trying to coax more pleasure, letting him sink away from the passion slowly and gently.
But Willie would not allow this to happen. When he saw Frank's body go slack and realized that Frank had had an orgasm Willie quickly reached across and almost violently took Carla's hair and pulled her head out from between Frank's legs and over to the next chair to where he was sitting and put her face immediately over his erect cock. Somehow, Parlay stayed with the maneuver and Carla-partially because she was so into the sex, and partially because she had no other choice, simply opened her mouth and allowed Willie to lower her head over his cock.
She was surprised at the difference in circumference. It was about as long as Frank's but not nearly as thick. It had a whole different feeling, but the velvety quality was still there.
It would forever be to Willie's subsequent embarrassment and for sure it was something that he would have changed if he had any control whatsoever, but the fact remained that Willie was not prepared emotionally for the heat of Carla's mouth. When her lips slipped down over his already excited shaft, and rippled across his already engorged veins and the heavy knob of his penis, Willie began to have an orgasm.
A sharp "No!" escaped his throat, but it was too late. It surprised Carla almost as much as it surprised Willie. And then, when she fully realized that sperm was actually spilling down her throat, a sense of adventure and a sense of joy and a joy of the ludicrousness of it all swept over her and Carla simply began to suck heavily on Willie's cock trying to give him the ultimate measure of enjoyment she could.
It was over in seconds, and Willie simply slumped in his chair, embarrassed and totally without a way to go. Hoping maybe that the other men didn't realize what had happened to Willie, Carla did not let on that he had had an orgasm. She continued to suck as though trying to make him have one.
But it was no use. Willie simply slumped in the chair. And finally, because the orgasm had made his penis so sensitive, he gently pushed Carla's head away.
She looked up at him and smiled. "Maybe after you rest a moment," she whispered. "Maybe I can do it for you again."
Willie couldn't believe his ears. But there was nothing he could do, so he smiled at her and nodded his head and ruffled her hair slightly.
It was as she was smiling up at Willie that Carla felt Parlay's cock slip out of her cunt. Then almost instantly she felt the firmness of it as he maneuvered it with his hand against her anal opening. Tension shot through her body. Anal intercourse was something she had never had, something she had always feared. Yet, Parlay had not moved his hand from her clitoris and was being very gentle, and somehow the calmness of the whole operation pervaded Carla's being and she held still despite her fear.
She felt his penis knob go back inside her cunt and relaxed. Then she felt his very gentle probing with a fingertip of her anal opening. It didn't hurt, and so she stayed relaxed.
He pulled back, pulling his penis away from her, his other hand still on her clitoris. She felt his fingers go into her vagina and then slip moistly upward to her anus and slip inside just a short distance and began moving in gentle probing enlarging circles.
Parlay could feel her tension. He was aware of what she was feeling. Prison life had made him aware of what anal penetration was all about. He kept moving her vaginal lubrication up to her anus, each time inserting his finger a little bit farther, each time attempting to massage the sphincter muscles and get them to relax even more.
As he did this he kept the steady rhythm on her clitoris, knowing that that was the key. Finally
Carla's anal muscles began to relax. Parlay could feel this, his finger began to slip in and out easily. His cock was throbbing, hanging out in front of his long thick body, pole-like and alive. When he felt she was ready, he put his hand on his penis, and steered it into the opening of her cuntal lips. He inserted far enough to get his penis freshly and completely lubricated and then quickly withdrew and put the engorged head against the opening of her ass hole. He pushed only gently, feeling the resistance, yet aware that a certain amount of pressure was necessary to accomplish what he had in mind. He was firm and persistent and Carla was relaxed enough to hold still and allow him to push against her.
Almost instantly Parlay was pleased to feel the head slip inside of her anal opening. The sphincters seemed to relax briefly and the head simply popped in. Once inside, he held still, not wanting to frighten her, knowing that the feeling was frightening. His finger moved steadily on her clitoris.
To Carla the feeling was bewildering. It felt, for sure, animalistic. It felt debasing. She no longer really cared about that. The surprising thing was that it did not hurt her. There had been a brief flash of pain when the sphincters opened and the head slipped inside, but now there was a kind of comfort and she held herself with some tension, knowing that he would not simply hold his penis there but would shove it further in. She began to grow impatient at his gentleness. She began to want to be hurt. She started to push backwards slightly, and when he felt this, Parlay simply shoved his penis in a little bit farther. There was no resistance now. He knew all he had to do was accustom her to the feeling.
He pulled his penis back slightly and then put it in again. He increased the rhythm of his finger on her clitoris. As he did so he heard a long "Ahhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaa" come from Carla's mouth, from deep in her throat, as though she were pleasantly surprised. He smiled to himself. This was going to be better than he thought.
It was only a matter of moments before Parlay had his cock fully embedded in Carla's anus. He was astonished at the tightness and the warmth. He was also astonished at her reaction. Whereas most of the women in his life, when this had happened, had at best cooperated slightly, it was obvious that Carla was an especially sensual woman and he responded in excitement as he felt her push back against his now throbbing and demanding cock. He had one more move to make, but he waited patiently, trying to build her passion so that the move would not frighten her and so that she could cooperate.
For Carla it was an unreal moment. She was like a lost cork on the surf of a passionate sea. And she was riding high now on the driving, thundering impulse of a massive wave of emotion that was surging through her body. It was mostly because of his demanding finger on her clitoris, but partially because of the erotic sequence of penises in her mouth and the sensual semen she had swallowed and the uniqueness of the gentle but equally demanding penis in her anus.
Her body began to tremble as if in anticipation of the orgasm it knew was coming. Parlay felt this, felt it strongly and he realized she was ready. He grabbed her hips firmly and simply rolled backwards onto his back, pulling her with him, her anus tightly glued to his penis as the movement took place, his hands holding her firmly against his pelvis. Carla hardly changed her body position at all, but when his back hit the floor and he was supine, she found herself virtually sitting on his erect cock, now feeling the full thrust of it as her weight fully embedded it into her bowels.
She screamed in fright at the movement and then quickly calmed. She held still for a moment and then gradually began adjusting her knees and legs and her weight so that the pleasure was the most intense.
Parlay said, "Now fuck me, Carla, and fuck me hard." His voice was husky and passionate, and almost instinctively she realized he was insisting she do something that she wanted very much to do. With that realization she began to grind her hips. She put her own hands on her own hips, almost in a belly dancers pose, and began to thrust her pelvis back and forth, feeling the cock which now felt immense grind and churn inside of her bowels. As she ground she realized something was missing. The penis in her anus was not doing the job and instinctively her right hand slipped down to her clitoris and she began a rapid whirling motion with her fingertips over the engorged gland as it stuck out from between her vaginal lip.
Her voice began to growl in her throat. Nothing intelligible, just a series of long " A aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, AaaaaaaaaHhhhhhaaaaaaaa-aaa, OooooooooooHhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooo, OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooo, and the sound reverbeated around the room. The men responded, especially Slim.
He walked around in front of her. He shoved his penis against her lips. Instinctively she opened her mouth and began sucking.
Then, as if he couldn't wait any longer, Slim knelt in front of her, put his hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her backwards so that she was lying against Parlay's chest.
When she was in that position and comfortable, Slim knelt between her legs. Her pussy was gaping open at him. He quickly pushed his engorged throbbing cock against the opening and shoved in gently. He knew he would run into the bulk of Parlay's cock and so he went slowly, not wanting to hurt, only wanting to feel the passionate heat within his loins.
Carla raised her head in astonishment at the new feeling. The idea of two penises inside of her had never even occurred to her and now she realized what was happening and that it felt great. She laid her head back, waiting for the weight of Slim's body and felt the long, slender sensuous link of his penis slide gently and slowly into the full depth of her cunt. It was a magnificent feeling for Carla, and her basically sensual nature, which was now at full throat, simply responded totally to it.
"AHH! YESS! FUCK ME" she begged. "Oh that's so beautiful. My God! Fuck me! Both of you. Fuck me hard! Fuck me hard! Hurt me! Pound me! Make me cum!" Her voice was plaintive, it was loud, the room seemed to reverberate with it, it was demanding. And the men were all caught up instantly in the excitement of it.
Parlay began to thrust, his body capable of lifting both Carla's weight and Slim's weight, and
Slim also began to thrust. His movements, however, longer and slower and a little more sensual simply because he had more freedom of body movement.
Willie and Frank watched in utter fascination, both with their hands on the penises, both having stroked themselves to virtually full erection-an easy thing to accomplish based on the erotic scene in front of them. Neither man had ever seen such a beautiful, voluptuous woman as Carla. And neither man had ever seen such a turned on woman as Carla, and the sight was more than they could anticipate, of course, and they responded totally to the sexual energy Carla was permeating the room with.
At the sound of her voice, both men, without referring to each other, simply came forward off their chairs and onto their knees on either side of Carla. Somehow she sensed them and reached out. Within a split second Carla had each man's cock in her hand, holding it tightly for a brief moment as if stabilizing herself, and then quickly beginning to make long sensuous strokes. Her mind and her body were now one, both in close kinship with the soft melted butter image she recognized, both totally wrapped up and absorbed in the sexuality.
Carla's orgasmic response now began to blur in her mind. It was all orgasm. The whole room was a big orgasm. She had no thoughts about her father, or her guilt, or her previous repugnance tcr mankind's animalistic tendencies. Instead she was totally focused on mankind's most primitive instinct, that of sexual response. And her body was alive and demanding of everything in the room that could satisfy it. If she was focusing on any one thing, it was the tremendously new and exciting feeling of having a penis in her anus and a penis in her cunt simultaneously. She simply couldn't move her hips hard enough. She couldn't do anything hard enough to satisfy the horrendous demand her body was making.
The result, for the men, was that of total eroticism. As a result, they were simply silent, each absorbed in his own sexuality, each absorbed in his own amazement, each giving of himself in a way that he had never given before, and each sharing something he might never share again. It was a classic moment for all concerned, and for Carla it was like treading on the thin, thin, thin line between sanity and insanity.
And yet, somehow, someplace in the back of her mind, she was aware that what she was doing was probably the sanest thing she had ever done in her life. There was something so totally free about it, so totally honest that it couldn't be interpreted as anything but right. Her mind simply blurred as one major orgasm after another seemed to blend themselves as they shot thru her nervous system.
"Oh God, please don't stop. Please don't stop fucking me! Fuck me as hard as you can." She began to wail these words...."Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh, Aa a a a a a a aHhhhhhhhhhh, Oh God! I'm just cuming! Cuming! I'm constantly cuming! I can't cum any harder but I want to cum harder and I can if you will only fuck me harder. Please, harder!" Her voice was loud now, demanding. The words were clear sometimes and blurred and unintelligible at other times. Some place from deep in her throat there seemed to be a constant "Oooooooohhhhhhh" and "Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh" emerging and blending with the words she was saying.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was the morning of the fifth day after the most magnificent orgasm of her life. The memory of Parlay and Slim was still strong in her mind. Rain was falling heavily on her roof and windows, creating a soft, almost romantic aura in the quietness of Carla's bedroom.
"OooooooooooHhhhhhhhhhh, Aaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaa, Oh Christ, I'm cuming. Oh I'm cuming. I'm cuming." She was murmuring quietly to herself, her face buried in her pillow as she lay on her stomach, her hands underneath her body holding firmly the long plastic dildo Slim had given her. It was fully embedded in her vagina and her hips were fucking it almost violently, as passion poured over her body.
She had been fucking the dildo a half hour, having awakened somewhat early, and in her usual state of arousal. She had laid in bed quietly a few minutes, as sleep escaped her, thinking how odd and surprisingly pleasant was this new-found habit she had gotten into, that of waking up and finding the fingers of her right hand buried deep in her cunt, and in a relatively high state of arousal, as if she had been masturbating in her sleep. It had been happening every morning recently. And this morning, what with the soft rain and the erotic memories that were now dominating Carla's life, she had simply taken Slim's gift, the dildo, and had begun to fuck it as she had fucked it for the last three mornings, ever since he gave it to her.
Slim had told her it was a toy, a toy designed to keep her in practice until he needed her again. He had given it to her without realizing the full use Carla would make of it. It had turned into a demanding toy, a wondrously demanding thing that she instinctively knew how to use and used with an almost predetermined expertise.
"Oh God that's great," she said to herself. Then her body went slack and she rolled over onto her back, pulling the dildo from her cunt, and lay there spread-legged, her arms akimbo, her eyes closed, letting the final traces of the orgasm relax her. She seemed to sink into the bed clothing. She had never felt better in her life. She was aware she felt totally exuberant.
As she lay there she grew philosophical, thinking about what had happened to her. Her father's image crossed her mind. Somehow she had lost the full impact of his personality on her career, somehow it had been pushed into the background and her career now actually seemed to have more meaning. Yet she fully understood that it was her father's name that she was working to enhance, and she used that knowledge to give herself a sense of direction. Carla could not accept the fact that she was the opposite of what she practiced. In other words, she could not accept the fact that she was a highly sensual, erotic human being that loved to fuck and fuck almost anybody, instead of the almost pristine, hard working loner-type she had thought she had always been.
She realized, as she thought about it, that she really was a loner, and was resourceful and that what was happening to her was only a newfound dimension of her personality and one she found fit very well with what she thought her personality used to be. It was, in fact, only a new discovery she was experiencing, a discovery which coincidentally happened to be extremely pleasurable. She saw nothing wrong with what she was doing. And she lay there in bed, sexually satisfied for the moment, reminiscing about the experiences she had had in the past week or so, and enjoying the warm feeling in her stomach that was the result.
Slim had left her alone, except for two days ago when she was actually at work. She smiled to herself at the memory. She had no more than gotten to work and was busy working at her desk, her head down, her pencil flying, when Slim had come in. Pierre was with him.
Pierre was an acquaintance of Carla's simply because he was in charge of the prison kitchen and it was his expertise, not only in preparing the food, but in scrounging the best vegetables and fruit from the local citizens that kept the cuisine at the prison at the high caliber it was. Pierre was a much appreciated man by everyone. Physically he would have been cast by Hollywood as a criminal, although he was really not a criminal at heart. He was in prison because he had been arrested too many times for exposing himself in public and Carla recognized from her study of psychology that he was a relatively harmless man. His appearance, however, dictated just the opposite. One could easily imagine him committing murder, carrying weapons, being vicious.
Thus it was that Pierre was sort of a character within the prison confines. He stood just inside the door, waiting, as Slim came up beside Carla's desk. She remembered, as she lay in bed thinking about it, that he had a sly look on his face and he had leaned over the desk to talk to her quietly.
"Carla, you know Pierre," he said first.
She nodded, after looking to see who Pierre was.
"Well, Pierre is here to be serviced."
"Serviced?" she had said, not knowing what he meant. This was a new move on Slim's part.
"Yes, I'm going to close the door and I want you to give Slim one of your best blow-jobs."
A gasp came from Carla's throat and she felt her stomach tighten. She had said to Slim vehemently that this was ridiculous, that she could get caught, that they could all be fired. But Slim had assured her he would stand just inside the door and make sure no one interrupted, and he had been adamant. There was no mistaking his leverage, and finally Carla had agreed, because she had to.
She looked at Pierre, a slender, tiny, almost effeminate man really, except for his ominous looks. She wondered curiously what his penis would be like. She was not turned on at the moment, having satisfied herself sexually only an hour or so before at home, and she was in fact totally involved with her bookwork when the subject of sucking Pierre's cock came up. Still, almost in a state of helplessness, she had sighed and sat back in her chair and nodded.
As soon as Slim saw her reaction he motioned to Pierre and Pierre had come forward. For a moment it was an awkward situation, Pierre standing in front of Carla, looking at her, a look of embarrassment on his face, and yet it was obvious that he wanted what it was Slim was talking about.
Because Carla liked Pierre she reacted to his obvious discomfort and said, "It's alright, Pierre, take off your pants." She hadn't been able to believe what she was saying. She had smiled to herself, thinking what a professional she was getting to be. And as she watched him fumbling with his clothes, she was aware of the sudden wetness in her own crotch.
Quickly she had leaned forward in the chair to help him with his pants. When her hands had reached his trousers, Pierre's hands had fallen away, and so it was that Carla unzipped his pants and slipped her hand inside to reach for his penis.
As she lay in bed thinking about it, she could remember very clearly the gasp that had escaped her throat when she felt the huge, swollen, penis in her hands. It had seemed literally immense and she had felt her excitement grow. She smiled to herself, lying there in the bed remembering how she had pulled Pierre's cock from his pants in excitement and held it in her hands lovingly, absolutely astonished at the swollen thickness of the man's penis.
Carla had not realized it, but Pierre was a confirmed masturbator, and his cock was in a constantly swollen state just from the beating he gave it with his own hands. Still, he did have a large cock. In the soft condition it was in, as it lay in
Carla's hands, it was about seven inches long and Carla could not get her fingers all the way around it without squeezing it tightly.
"Wow, Pierre," she had said. "It's so huge. How big does it get?" She had looked up at him, but Pierre had only smiled down at her and shrugged. "Well let's see," Carla said, her own excitement building now. It would be fun to make Pierre hard. It would be fun to make him cum. And she felt her excitement growing.
He was uncircumcised and she gently kneaded the foreskin back to expose the knob. She felt her stomach tighten at the sight of it, it was so huge and deep blood red in color. She wondered if she could get it in her mouth.
She began to stroke his penis with her hot hands, working it, trying to make it come alive. After a while she began to feel it respond, and then she started to work on the knob with her tongue. She ran it around and around the giant knob, holding it in front of her face gently, as if it would break.
Pierre was leaning back against her desk, his hands now on her desk top, holding himself upright and looking down. Pierre was fully erect in moments, long before Carla had ever gotten his cock all the way into her mouth. She was working gently on it, loving the velvety texture and the feeling of it growing in her mouth and in her hand. When she realized that he was fully erect she backed away to look at his cock. It had not grown much in length, it was perhaps eight inches long at the most, but it looked absolutely huge and lovely to Carla and she ran her tongue around her lips in anticipation, and then very quickly she plunged her mouth over the giant knob and put it as far down her throat as she could
She began a strong sucking motion, moving her head backwards and forwards, trying to make her mouth feel like a cunt. And as she did, she triggered Pierre's orgasmic response.
A highly responsive man to begin with, it had been a long time since Pierre had gotten a blow-job from a woman, and the total warmth and femininity of her mouth, plus her obvious excitement at doing what she was doing, was more than he anticipated and Carla had been almost disappointed when suddenly she felt the first hot splashes of semen against the back of her throat. She had drunk them down as rapidly as she could, but the cock was halfway down her throat and she almost gagged. The semen filled the cavities of her mouth and, finally, because she couldn't swallow fast enough, began to spill over her chin and the delicious white liquid dripped down over her chin and ran down her throat.
It was all over in moments, it seemed. And as Carla lay in the bed now thinking of it, she was aware of a sense of disappointment, that she would have liked to suck on Pierre's cock for a long, long time and then mount him and fuck herself with it.
It was a good memory, however, and she smiled to herself. And then finally got out of bed and went to the kitchen. She put the coffee on, did her bathroom chores, and came back and sat at the kitchen table for her first cigarette of the morning, and some more reflection on what had taken place the past week.
She smiled to herself as she watched the rain hit the windows. It had been almost a week since she had done any serious studying. It had been almost a week since she had done anything but concentrate on anything but sex. She loved the feeling. It was a freedom she had never experienced before. She knew it was all right. And she was also aware of what was happening in the prison.
One evening she had gone out to get in her car to go home and had found it freshly washed. Every day there were tokens of affection on her desk, such as flowers. And the interoffice feedback was contagious. People were talking about the subtle, but noticeable differences of unity.
She was aware that the unity wasn't a big thing, but as her mind searched for reasons to continue something she loved, she accepted it as a good sign and that it was alright to spread her favors amongst the prisoners because it seemed to be working in the direction she hoped her entire career would reach.
Another new thing was also happening to Carla. Whereas earlier in the month her ex-husband's engorged purple cock had sort of slipped in and out of her consciousness at odd moments, now since her moment with Emile, her husband's engorged purple cock would flicker into her conscious only to remind her of Emile's engorged purple cock, and then her mind would begin to focus on Emile. There was something different about what had happened between Carla and Emile, at least to Carla. She couldn't pinpoint what it was. She wanted to do it again. There was a sweetness connected with it, a raw sexual sweetness. She found it appealing and stimulating and she was aware that every time Emile crossed her consciousness her body began to respond and her vagina began to lubricate.
As she sat sipping her coffee the phenomenon occurred and instantly her mind was thinking about Emile. Quickly she got up and went to her bathroom and poured a bath. When she was in the water and the warmness was massaging her into a more and more euphoric mood, Emile's sturdy, sensual body seemed to dominate her mind more and more. She lay back in the water, her hands going unerringly to her cunt and she began to finger herself.
Carla lay in the water until the water began to cool, a high state of passion riding thru her body, but not coming. Her fingers seemed to be creating a harmony against which a drama was playing itself out. The drama was sexual, totally sexual, totally enjoyable, and without any mystery. It was simply a reply of what she had done that first afternoon with Emile.
Then the cooling water had brought her out of her fantasy. Quickly she got up and dried herself and put on her work uniform. It was two hours before she had to leave, but she quickly got into the uniform and ran to her car.
Emile was not in his store room when she got there. She didn't care, she knew he'd be there in a moment. She quickly went to the pile of blankets and took off her clothes and lay down. The soft light from the single window played across her body and against the storage bins and paraphernalia around the room, creating an almost romantic mood about the dull room. And Carla's mind began to go into another fantasy, a fantasy of
Emile.
When Emile came in a few minutes later he did not see her. His eyes had not adjusted to the light and he moved around the room, preparing himself for the nap. His work was done and he would rest now for awhile.
Carla watched him, smiling to herself, waiting until he discovered her. She spread her legs and put her finger in her vagina and began to rub her clitoris.
Emile was busy for a few moments, and then matter-of-factly turned towards the blankets and almost lay down on top of Carla before he realized she was there. He jumped in surprise. Total surprise, really, the last thing in the world he anticipated was a naked woman lying on his blankets. Still, since it had only happened once, he recognized Carla instantly and his surprise was only temporary. He stopped, poised over the blankets, almost falling on her, and looked down. A sweet smile crossed his face. He stepped back to get a better view of her. She simply opened her legs wider and beckoned to him.
"Please," she said. "Please, I miss you. And I need you. Please, Emile."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. But quickly he took off his clothes and got between Carla's legs. He did not have an erection, he just simply leaned over her and as he did Carla's hand found his penis and began to milk it.
There was a gentleness about the young man and a sweetness that appealed immensely to Carla. She looked into his soft eyes and milked his penis, feeling it grow in her hand, the feeling exciting her beyond belief. She looked at him for only a few moments until his penis was semi-erect and hard enough to penetrate her.
"Please, Emile, don't say anything, just put your penis inside of me. It's so sweet and I want to feel it."
Somehow, instinctively, the young man understood. There was nothing violent in his nature. He was by nature, in fact, a lover and he simply pushed his pelvis forward until he felt the tip of his cock against her vaginal lips. Then he held still for a moment and Carla's hand moved his cock up and down, opening the lips and initiating penetration.
When it was far enough inside the lips, Carla simply said "alright", and Emile shoved forward. His semi-hard penis slipping between the lips, lovingly, sensuously.
They had fucked for almost an hour, like lovers, tenderly, completely sensuous, caring and with almost total passion. Carla had cum and cum and cum, and yet as the fucking went on she realized that there was a major difference between the feeling she was having with Emile and the feeling she had had with Parlay and Slim. The orgasm she had had with Parlay's cock in her anus and Slim's cock in her cunt had been vastly superior in terms of intensity, and yet there was something more meaningful and more desirable about what was occurring as Emile's penis slipped sensually in and out of her.
She had gotten to her desk a half hour early, smiling to herself, a sense of sweet victory consuming her as she sat There was something so rewarding, so meaningful about her feeling about Emile. She analyzed it as responding to sweetness. There was no love. There was deep affection. And she loved his cock and his gentleness. Perhaps it was his contrast to the other prisoners'-whatever, she didn't know, she only was aware of a feeling.
Quickly, after getting herself a cup of coffee, she went to work at her paperwork. She had only been working about 45 minutes when Slim came into the office.
"Carla," he said brusquely. "Come with me."
She had looked up, startled, not expecting Slim at all. And when she had hesitated, his voice changed and she could hear the menace. "I said, come with me, we'll only be gone a few moments, but I need you now." He obviously expected her to stand up, and Carla resisted.
"Why," she said. "Why should I come with you?"
"Because I said so," Slim said. "Just because I said so, Carla."
His invasion of her privacy was in such contrast to the sweet, mellow mood she was in, that Carla felt like fighting.
"No," she said. "No, I'm not coming with you."
"Carla," Slim had said. "Carla, please don't call my bluff. Just get up and come with me. You'll only be gone a few moments." He had moved directly in front of her and she looked at him intensely. There was no doubting whatsoever that Slim meant business.
She was over her Emile mood now and grew philosophical. "Why not," she said to herself. "Why not, maybe it'd be good for me." She pushed back her chair and stood up.
"Alright," she said.
He walked her out of her office and briskly down the long hall and out the building. They started across the courtyard towards the truck terminal. As they walked thru the gravel, hurrying, because the raindrops were hitting them, he had said almost breathlessly, "Just do what I tell you to and don't fuck up."
Somehow, as they hurried along Carla sensed danger. She felt her body tighten up. This was different. She assumed sex was in the offing, but sex so far had always been reasonably pleasant. She could see where they were heading. She had maybe 100 feet to go before getting to the truck terminal building which was a large hangar-type building full of mechanics, mechanical tools, and it was where they repaired, serviced and stored the trucks that belonged to the prison.
Her mind leaped ahead, trying to remember who she knew there, who she could identify, who Slim might be taking her to. And suddenly she knew. It had to be Tiny Mallory, because, in the first place, all the trucks were gone out working, and in the second place, Tiny would be the only person in the building at this time of day since he was in charge of the building and the maintenance and servicing of the trucks.
A giant of a man, a black Irishman of some evil significance in the prison, he had always been one of the prisoners that Carla had feared and had wondered how he could possibly be in a minimum security prison. He was hairy and evil looking, with gigantic hands and probably stood 6'4" and weighed 250 lbs.
Carla had never liked him and had always avoided him, although she knew who he was and he knew who she was. When they arrived at the open hangar-type door, Slim stopped. He brushed away some droplets of water and looked around. The building was empty. Carla breathed a sigh of relief. Then Slim grabbed her arm.
"This way," he said. And he headed towards the back of the building.
As they approached a small door leading to a storage room, he spun her thru the door and just inside, leaning against a greasy out-of-service desk, was Tiny, his hands working on his gigantic cock, his face a mask of rage. He glared at Slim.
"Jesus Christ, I thought you'd never get here." His voice was mean and low and frightening.
Carla froze in her tracks. Her eyes went down to his cock. She had never seen that large a penis. It was stone hard. He had obviously been standing there waiting for them and jerking on his cock in anticipation.
"Jesus Christ, Slim," Tiny said. "We've only got a couple minutes. Now get her ready."
As if by command, Slim spun Carla around and began pulling at her belt. He ripped her pants off, pulled them down around her ankles and viciously pulled one foot thru her pants leg and then the other and suddenly Carla was naked from the waist down.
Slim stood up and pushed her towards him. "Now fuck him. And fuck him quick," he said.
Carla didn't know what to do. But there wasn't anything she needed to do because Tiny simply reached out and grabbed her and pulled her to him as he stood there, her cunt coming up against his stone-hard cock almost violently. He reached down and lifted her left leg, spreading her crotch. But he was too big a man and his cock was too high. He spun her around so that her back was against the desk and then pushed her back so that she was laying on the desk and her crotch suddenly was open and opposite his cock.
"No. No," Carla said. "No, my God, you're going to kill me. No, be careful." She knew it was pointless. She knew she was going to get hurt. She closed her eyes. Then she opened them and tried to struggle up, but Tiny was a monster of a man and had a vice-like hold on her. He simply pulled her forward so that her cunt hung over the edge of the desk giving him all the freedom he needed to move, and slammed his cock into the opening of her cunt.
A scream came out of Carla's throat.
"Shut up! Dammit, Shut up!" Tiny said. "Shut up or I'll hit you across the mouth." He was vicious. He was angry. He was menacing, and Carla shut up.
The cock was now buried in her cunt. She had never felt such pain. It had been too sudden. Despite the moisture in her cunt from Emile, she had not been prepared for the huge throbbing muscle penetrating her vagina that rapidly, and the pain had been excruciating.
Tiny pulled away, holding her vice-like yet, and then rammed his cock in again. She stared at him in disbelief. His face was a mask of anger. He obviously was trying to hurt her. She didn't know what to do. She struggled. But the man was too massive.
Somehow she became aware of the image of Slim standing behind. He seemed powerless. He seemed frightened. He was watching and waiting, but he wasn't doing anything. Carla knew he would be no help.
Tiny leaned forward, putting his hands like a gorilla, knuckle down on the desk, along side of her and began to thrust. Each thrust moved her I/4 inch or so on the desk. And as he thrust he became aware he was moving her and he angrily pulled her back to position and kept thrusting.
As he did so Carla tried to relax. She knew she was powerless. The pain was severe. But she hoped that eventually her own lubrication would begin to help. As her muscles relaxed and the lubrication from her cunt began to spread over Tiny's immense 'engorged cock, the pain did indeed go away. All of the animalistic images of mankind suddenly were in the forefront of Carla's brain. There was nothing sensual about what was happening. She gritted her teeth. She wondered if she was going to be sick.
"Jesus Christ, take it easy," she finally said.
"Shut up, bitch. Shut up. Just shut up and get yourself fucked. That's what you've needed ever since I've seen you and now you're going to get it. So just lay there and shut up and open that big black bushy cunt of yours as much as you can because I'm not about to stop and you're not about to stop me."
Somehow, despite her total humiliation, Carla was able to cope. As she forced herself to relax, a surprising, even astonishing thing began to happen to her. Somehow, despite the animalistic aspects of what he was doing, Tiny was appealing to something in her inner-sensual self. And somehow his giant, throbbing cock began to touch the sensitive parts, the key parts to Carla's sexuality and a kind of glow began to occur in her stomach.
It was not that she was turned on. But for the 10 or so minutes that Tiny slammed his massive equipment into her cunt, Carla became aware of her own strength, her own ability to cope. She lay there, relaxing herself, feeling the giant prick pound in and out of her cunt, aware that she could handle it, aware that he was not going to hurt her.
She wished he would cum. She wished he would get it over. But she was able to handle it. Then, as she lay there, not really basking in her own personal victory, but certainly not hurting, Tiny reached forward, put his hand under her armpits, and picked her up.
Suddenly Carla found herself impaled on a huge pole of a penis, her upper body being held tightly against the massive chest of the man who owned the penis, and felt herself being walked around and fucked at the same time.
"Dammit, lock your legs around my body," Tiny muttered to her angrily, as if exasperated.
Somehow she hooked her ankles together behind his back and that secured her position.
"Put your goddamn arms around my neck and hold onto me," he said. And she did.
Walking with her was nothing for Tiny. His strength was too immense. He moved around the cluttered room. He seemed to be searching for something. Carla felt him thrusting his cock with each step. It felt good. And suddenly she was aware of the reason it felt good. The new position had brought her clitoris far enough forward so that it was rubbing against his pubic mound and she began to feel wave after wave of passion creep into her stomach.
She closed her eyes and held onto the massive neck. Her face was buried underneath his chin. He seemed to just simply tower over her. He was three times as big as Carla. But she could also sense that the hatred inside of him was still there and, although she didn't feel in danger, there was a certain tension in her body anticipating what he might do next.
Finally, he found what he was looking for, which was a flat wall. He slammed Carla up against the wall. Breath shot from her throat from her collision with the wall. She felt herself pushed against it. The cold metal of the wall hurt her back. And then she became aware of what Tiny really had in mind. He pushed her violently against the wall, his upper body simply smashing her against the cold surface. As he did so, he got her in a position where he could really pound his cock into her cunt. His hands went below her buttocks, holding it firmly. She could feel his giant fingers pulling at the globes of her ass, almost breaking the skin, pulling her cunt violently against his cock. In that position, Tiny was at his most powerful. His legs were given new leverage and he used it to its full advantage and the fucking he gave Carla was so painful and so violent that she almost fainted in the giant man's arms.
Tiny was close to orgasm. He wanted to spill his seed deeply inside of Carla, and so his massive legs pushed violently, jerkingly, as he lurched himself upward into her belly and then pulled his body back and slammed into her again. He began a rapid, high-speed lurching kind of rhythm and when he did that, he took himself over the edge and his massive body began to explode semen up into her belly.
Somehow, in the midst of the violence, Carla was aware of the fact that her own passion was rising; that her own body was responding. But the pain was simply too much, and she clung to him desperately, hoping he would cum, realizing he was about to cum. And then, at last, she felt the great globs of hot semen begin to pound against her cervix and her womb. Tiny must have squirted semen for thirty seconds. It was violent. It was ugly. It was sadistic. And Carla appreciated all of that. She knew she would never cum herself and, yet, the whole thing was immensely erotic and stimulating. She wasn't really sure whether she wanted Tiny to stop or continue. Finally, however, totally exhausted from his effort, Tiny simply dropped her, his hands leaving her buttocks, his body backing away. He wanted to get away from her; wanted to pull his cock out of her. And because of his size he was able to do that. Only the fact that she was against the wall kept Carla from falling to the floor. She slid partially down the wall and then, releasing her legs from around his back, managed to catch her balance.
She was not surprised to find Slim waiting when she finished work. He had simply waited until she approached him and then smilingly said: "Ready?"
She had looked at him almost with disgust and with a certain hopelessness. And yet, in the back of her mind was the awareness of her own excitement. Only one bad thing had happened to her since Slim's program had come into effect and even that had been partially exciting. That was the incident with Tiny. And so she was at once repulsed by the almost chauvinistic treatment she was receiving and excited by the prospects of the excitement ahead.
She began to walk along side of him as he strode down the hallway toward the Recreation Hall. The entire prison was dark. When they got to the lounge, Carla was surprised to find a large number of people there.
She looked around, and seated on the soft chairs, were all of the men that she knew, Willie, and Frank, and Parlay, Tiny, and Pierre plus six assistants that were like corporals to Willie and Frank and Parlay. She knew them all now, except for the six men, in an intimate way, and was greeted heartily by all the men when she walked in.
Then they almost embarrassed her with their politeness, as they all stood up in a group and began to applaud.
A certain relaxation came over her. Except for Tiny, she had a reasonably good feeling about everybody in the room, although she didn't know the corporals all that well.
A quick analysis on her part made her recognize that Slim had collected all of the powerful convicts in the prison; the men who actually ran the behind-the-scenes activities; men who basically could affect morale more than any other group on the grounds.
She turned to Slim, who had her by the elbow just inside the door.
"Pretty impressive group," she said. He only smiled and started to lead her forward.
"Here she is, fellows," he said.
Another small cheer went up. It was more one of amusement than anything else.
The men generally liked her.
Then Slim said the thing that sent a cold chill through Carla's body.
"And is she ready." He said it too loud, too eagerly.
They were in the midst of the group now, so she turned and said to Slim coldly, "Ready for what, Slim?"
He played it casual, not really caring whether she liked it or not.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," he said, sarcastically. "The drawing, you remember the drawing? Well, Frank won, and you are his prize. Frank gets to do with you whatever he wants. Do you understand. You, Carla, are first prize at our little party."
"I think it sucks," she said.
The term was not familiar to Slim and so he laughed.
"She thinks it sucks, fellas. Did you hear what she said. Little does she know."
There was laughter. And then Slim raised his hand and turned to Carla.
"Remember also I told you about the special surprise? Well, we're going to give you that first. We really have a special surprise for you and I guarantee you it's something you've never seen before in your life. You might even like it, Carla."
"What the hell are you talking about," she said. "You disgust me. Don't be so vague. I'm here, aren't I. Let me in on this thing."
A cold look came over Slim's face. And then he turned to Pierre, who happened to be closest to the door and said, simply, "Bring him in."
Pierre smiled and turned and walked away and, when he did, Carla became suddenly aware that something ominous was about to happen. A sense of foreboding seemed to pervade the room.
She was frozen in her tracks and knew she couldn't go anyplace, and she wondered how to handle the situation. Though the men were her friends, in a way, they were also prisoners, and she did not really trust them to help her. She only kind of trusted them not to hurt her.
Then Slim was talking again. And his voice seemed to penetrate her head, almost making it ache.
"You've heard of Bid Dude? Well, you're about to hear of him, cause he's about to come through that door. And Big Dude is your special surprise."
The name, itself, caused fear to enter her heart. She somehow correlated him with Tiny. And another animal she didn't want. She wouldn't be able to handle another Tiny this particular night. As exciting as parts of it had been, it was not really her cup of tea.
As she stood there, suddenly the door opened. Pierre came through first and behind him was an astonishingly tall, young, blonde man, not too bad looking and rather thin, who looked for all the world like a basketball player.
He seemed to shuffle along behind Pierre, as they walked into the room.
Carla had seen him, but she did not know anything about him. He wasn't too bad looking and had a pleasant air about him, and her fears seemed to go away. If Slim wanted her to fuck Big
Dude, as she supposed his name was, then she didn't see any reason she couldn't do that. He didn't look ugly or demented or perverted in any way. He just looked big. But he had a different bigness about him than Tiny. Whereas Tiny was an obvious animal and sadistic, Big Dude looked gentle and calm.
Again, Slim broke the silence.
"Well, Dude, how does she look? I know you've seen her before. But now you know what she's going to do, how does she look?"
A broad smile crossed Dude's face. He stood there, casually, looking at Carla. He must have been a foot taller than she was. He seemed to tower over her. She looked back at him, studying his face, looking for some kind of gentleness.
"Well, whip it out, Dude, whip it out and let's get down to business."
"Carla, take your clothes off." It was an order. ... brusque and menacing.
For some reason, Carla did not hesitate. She had anticipated almost anything that would happen and now, it was happening, and she knew she had no way to go. Beside that, she was interested and so she quickly began shedding her clothes. There was no shred of embarrassment, doing so in front of the men, simply because she had been intimate with most of them.
The men sat down in the various chairs and couches, forming sort of a circle around Carla, as she undressed, their eyes lecherous and lustful, enjoying the sight of the lovely brunette as she casually undressed in front of them.
When she had finished and looked up and her eyes fell on Big Dude, a gasp escaped Carla's throat. A gasp of fear and astonishment.
Big Dude was standing in front of her now, naked, and hanging from his belly was the largest penis she had ever seen. She couldn't speak. She just stared in disbelief and Slim, seeing this, said calmly, "It's thirteen inches, Carla, in case you're wondering, and it goes to fourteen inches. I told you it was a special surprise."
"I can't ... I can't" was all she could say. "I can't get that huge thing inside of me. He'll kill me."
"No, no, you don't understand," Slim said. "We don't want you to get it inside of you unless you want to. We just want you to get Big Dude off. You see, he's never had a woman. He doesn't know anything about women. There's never been a woman. He doesn't know anything about women. There's never been a woman, who could take him. He's a freak. He's a prison freak and he's the neighborhood freak. He's always been a freak. That's one of the reasons he's in prison. But he's a nice guy, really. And we thought we'd give him to you, just like we're giving you to him. ... to see what you could do with him."
Despite her repugnance, Carla was aware of her fascination, also. And she was doubly aware of the growing wetness in her crotch at her own excitement. There was something special about being the center of attention, even if it was in a prison.
And so, she stepped forward in front of Big Dude and began to focus her attention on the giant cock hanging from his belly.
He just smiled down at her, not knowing what to do.
"For Christ's sake, Dude," Slim said, finally, "Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Don't stand there like a pole. Sit down on that couch that we put there for you. It'll make it easier for Carla."
Dude smiled and turned toward the couch, but Carla reached out and touched him and said, "No, wait a minute, just stand there, please." His penis was almost as high as her bosoms. Almost directly in front of her face, you might say. And she reached out to touch him.
She took it in her right hand. She was astonished at the weight of it. She lifted it, pulling it upward and then put her left hand underneath it, also. It felt soft and, again, had that magic velvet quality that all penises had to Carla.
She moved her hands back and forth a few times and then looked up into his face. He was just looking down at her smiling, but she could feel the penis starting to respond.
She tested it, like one would test a loaf of bread for freshness. There wasn't any way she could get her fingers around it's girth. It had to be seven or eight inches in circumference. And it hung heavily from his stomach.
It was fascinating, completely unreal, and fascinating. She couldn't imagine it being inside of her, yet the idea appealed to her, just for the novelty of it.
She began to stroke his cock. As she did so, she wondered how it would be possible for anybody to have enough blood in their system to make a cock that size become engorged. Would it get hard. Slim had said it grew to fourteen inches, and she could feel it growing. It seemed to be getting thicker, more than anything else. It wasn't like a penis. It was like a fantasy, something unreal, something that didn't exist.
She became fascinated by the texture. Finally, she looked up.
"Dude," she said softly, "please sit down."
He acted as if it were a command, simply turning and sitting down on the couch, his long, giant legs stretched out into the circle of men around him, his shoulders back against the back of the couch, his head leaning forward, simply looking down at her.
Carla stood between his knees for a moment, bending forward and pulling upward on his penis now, and milking it.
She was fascinated by the whole thing and didn't know what to do.
Finally, out of curiosity, she moved her legs so that she was straddling him and her vaginal opening was directly over the head of the soft gigantic cock.
She rubbed the knob of it against her cunt, wanting to see what it's dimensions looked like when it was up against her body.
She knew instinctively it would never go inside of her and yet she lowered herself a tiny bit, working the giant knob inside the lips as sensuously as she could, not trying to penetrate herself, just trying to absorb and enjoy the experience.
She moved it back and forth. As she did so, she was aware that suddenly Big Dude's hand was touching her stomach. She held still. He was very gentle, his fingers tracing the outlines of her pubic hair, touching her navel, just feeling of her.
She remembered that he had never had a woman, so she looked up at him and smiled. Her hands could feel his cock now stiffening. She wondered if it would ever get as hard as a shorter cock.
She began to rub the knob back and forth over her clitoris and when she did, she felt a familiar surge of her own passion, as her system began to respond to the sensuous that was happening to her.
After a few moments, she looked up at him. His hand had dropped back and was lying on the couch along side of him.
"Does it feel good," she forced a smile.
Dude nodded and smiled. "Very good."
It was the first time he had spoken. His voice was unbelievably low and seemed to rumble out of him and the resonance of it startled Carla for a moment. It was almost too loud, seeming to boom out at her. And then she realized it was his normal voice.
"Good," she said, "good, you just relax."
She was really in to making him have an orgasm now. She didn't know what was necessary but she thought she could figure it out.
She really wanted to see what would happen to him when he did have an orgasm and how much semen there would be and what kind of a response such a huge man would have.
She had both hands on his penis and was stroking up and down in such a way that the knob continued to rub against her clitoris.
Her own passion was rising faster now. She began to move her hands faster and she could feel even more hardness come into the long, thick shaft. She was fascinated by whether it would ever get truly hard. She became aware that the room was totally silent, and she looked around.
Several of the men were undressed. What she didn't know was that even though Frank Mattson had won her for a prize, all the men intended to fuck her, if they could. It was a common agreement by the men and a little game they were playing with Carla.
She turned her attention back to Big Dude. She looked at him.
"I can't get it inside of me, you know that."
"Yes," he said, his voice booming again, "but it's alright, I understand."
"Would you like to feel my vagina," she said.
He didn't speak. He just raised his hand.
She moved her body slightly and moved his shaft slightly, and her vagina was open in front of him.
"Go ahead, put your fingers down there. Enjoy yourself," she said.
She continued to stroke, paying attention to the gentle curious way that he was examining her. The thrilling part of it was that, as he did so, a definite firmness began to occur in Big Dude's cock. She knew she was exciting him.
After a few moments, she looked at him and she said, "Maybe this will feel even better."
He looked at her curiously but didn't say anything.
Quickly she backed away and bent forward so that her mouth was down around the giant knob. Her tongue began to flicker around the edges of it.
She had only been doing that for a couple of moments when, suddenly, she felt herself being lifted bodily from behind, and pulled away from Big Dude.
It was Frank. He had suddenly picked her up and was carrying her a few feet to a table. He was completely silent and his silence mystified Carla.
"Wait," she said, her hands slipping from Big Dude's cock. "That's not fair," she said.
But there was just silence, as she felt herself lifted and then laid on her back on a cold table. She recognized Frank, of course.
"Hey, that's not fair," she said. "He was getting interested."
"He could come over here," Frank said, his voice guttural.
His cock was hard, thrusting out from his thick, powerful body, and he was busy spreading her legs, as he spoke to her.
He turned his head. "Come over here, Dude, stand along side of her. She can do the same damned thing she was doin' over there." Then his attention came back to her crotch. He pulled her brusquely down, so that her fanny was at the edge of the table, her cuntal opening now available to him. Without waiting, without any ceremony, he simply put the head of his short, thick penis against her cuntal opening and pushed it in. It went in easily, since Carla was so wet. He held her legs up in the air, opening her crotch, and began a slow, sensuous, driving rhythm, fucking her, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling.
In the confusion, Big Dude walked up along side of Carla, his penis now standing out reasonably straight, but hanging somewhat also from the sheer weight of it. And because of his gargantuan height, he simply laid his penis directly on Carla's chest.
The image made her laugh. She grabbed it happily. It was a delightful position. It was like a flute in front of her mouth.
She put both hands on it, astonished at it's massiveness. It seemed larger to her from below. She began to milk it again, this time, holding the giant knob over her mouth, letting her tongue flicker at it as she milked, slowly and sensuously.
She became aware that she was getting inordinately turned on now. And she smiled to herself. Surely, she had to be the world's biggest ham. Being in front of men turned her on. And then there was Frank's penis, which felt unusually good to her.
Also, Frank had put his hand over her pubic hair, his thumb over her clitoris, and as he fucked, slowly, in and out of her now dripping cunt, his thumb moved back and forth over her clitoris, gently, sensually, and knowingly. The combination of play with Big Dude's immense cock and the stimulation of her clitoris, and the fact that she was the center of attention, was all Carla needed to begin to really get into her own sexual response.
As the moments went by, she began to be aware that the men were crowding around the table, looking down at her, lustfully. Finally, she realized that all of them were naked. It was then it dawned on her. She was more than Frank's first prize; that something unusual was about to happen to her. And she realized that, unless she developed an appetite for all the men in the room, she would be in for a terrible experience.
Her mind raced back to other nights, and other experiences of the past week and a half.
A soft glow of awareness of her own capabilities swept over her. How she would do it, she didn't know, but it had been happening over and over. And she tended to relax, tended to get even more and more into the situation. Her passion, which had faded when Frank picked her up, now was beginning to grow again, especially from the titillation of her clitoris, and the uniqueness of having the immense penis in her hands to play with.
For some reason, the penis, itself, was not sexual, per se, because it was far too big. And yet, it's textures and the possibilities of how Big Dude would react if she were successful, was tremendously exciting.
"That's beautiful, Frank. Fuck me harder. That's just beautiful," she said, quietly. And Frank responded.
"More, more, Frank. Faster please," she said.
Her passions were rising much quicker now, since she had realized that she had to open herself up more and be more receptive to what was lying ahead, and it was happening. She could feel it happening. She wanted to get her legs farther apart. She was actually stretching, trying to reach more of Frank's penis.
She looked up at Big Dude. There was a glaze in his eyes. But he was still looking down at her, smiling, enjoying what was happening.
She tested the stiffness of his giant cock and realized that it was probably as stiff as it was going to get. There seemed to be an inner core of stiffness, but because of the enormous girth, it was also soft and pliable, although it didn't bend. She wondered, if, she should let loose of it, if it would stick out from his belly or fall against her chest, and so she dropped her hands.
It fell heavily on her bosoms. Then she realized that she might like that. She began rubbing it back and forth, as though rolling a rolling pin, over her bosoms, looking up at his face.
A surprised look surfaced his eyes. He smiled. She was doing that when she felt the first hot drops of Frank's semen pound against her cervix. Her eyes remained on Big Dude's eyes. Her concentration on the penis in her hands.
Frank made no noise and when he had finished, he simply backed away, and almost immediately, another man took his place.
It was what Carla was hoping for. Her body was ready for it. She became aware that this cock in her vagina was now a different size and almost a different temperature. And so, to encourage the men, she said, "Oh good, good. I want more cock. Give me all the cock you've got."
Dude had not looked away from her. He was simply fascinated by what was happening to him. And he was aware that something was happening that had never happened before. A warmth was creeping over him that he had not felt in masturbation. And, although he was familiar with orgasms, of course, he had not felt the same kind of passion he was experiencing now. He wanted to touch Carla, but he didn't know what to do.
Finally, tentatively, he reached forward and put his hand on one of her bosoms.
It surprised her. "Yes," she said. "Please do that."
It was all Dude needed to take him over the top. Whereas one moment he had been experiencing a soft, lovely glow, suddenly, the gigantic energy in his loins and his legs and his body seemed to correlate and focus on the pool of semen in his testicles. His eyes closed. His body arched forward slightly. His hand suddenly gripped Carla's bosom. And that sudden gripping was like a warning to Carla that something was happening.
She glanced up to see his eyes close and realized that something special was happening to him. But the first drop of semen caught her by surprise. Her mouth happened to be in position directly in front of the slit in his cock and the semen simply shot from him into her mouth in a hot, bewildering kind of way.
It was exactly what Carla had been waiting for, really. "Oh, yes," she said, the semen now pelting against her mouth. It hit her lips, it hit her nose, her cheeks. Finally she got her mouth in position to catch it. She drank as fast as she could. There was no way she could get the cock in her mouth, and she knew it. But she tried to stretch her mouth as much as she could.
As she did, the excitement overwhelmed her, and she began to cum herself, her hips starting to buck wildly against the man's cock that was in her stomach. And she knew, instinctively, that she had reached the condition she wanted to be in, to be able to accept all the men.
It seemed as though Big Dude ejaculated for several minutes. But, actually, it was only jUst a few seconds. His load was enormous. It spilled out of Carla's mouth, down her cheeks, and then, for some reason, his hand reached and grabbed his cock and aimed it toward her breasts and, suddenly, her breasts were being covered with semen.
She stared at his face, wanting to enjoy all of his emotion. She could feel the hot semen on her chest, now, and then, she was aware that he was through.
For some reason, he did an astonishingly sensual thing, taking his giant organ and simply rubbing it back and forth, spreading the semen around her bosoms as sensually as he could.
To Big Dude, it felt fantastic. He didn't know what else to do.
To Carla, it was one of the most amazing things she had ever experienced. Such a giant man. Such a giant cock. She felt sorry for him. She only hoped it had been complete, as complete as she wanted it to be.
She looked up at him, compassionately. Carla didn't need to worry. It was the most fantastic experience of Big Dude's life. He just stood there, smiling. There wasn't any way to know whether his cock was going down or not, because it didn't really go down that much. It was totally soft, and so it was, that Carla put her hands back on it and began to play with it again.
There was another man fucking her, now. Her mind seemed to go blank, focusing completely on her own sensuality. She had lost the responsibility of satisfying Dude and, now, she could concentrate on herself.
Her hands gripped Dude's cock. At one point, she actually put her arms around it, it was so large. She hugged it. She caressed it.
Another man took his place between her legs. She lost track of the orgasms she was having. Whether it was ten or fifty, she would never know. Perhaps it was ten. She had reached the stage she had reached a few nights before in which it seemed as though she was not having a series of orgasms, but just one intense sexual reaction, her entire body a complex, a switchboard, a nerve center of sensuality, with electrical impulses running in every direction, penetrating every corner of her sensual being. Now she was totally sexual again, for the second time in her life. And the men responded. One by one, they fucked her. She seemed tireless. She seemed to want all of them, the same way, with complete openness and complete passion.
They didn't take advantage of her in any other way; they didn't do anything to harm her or molest her; they just did what it was she seemed to be demanding of them. One by one, they fucked her, came in her belly, and then sat down to watch the rest.
CHAPTER NINE
It was Saturday, the morning after her experience with Big Dude. And Carla awakened, as she had been awakening all week long, her body cuddled around itself, the fingers of her right hand deep in her vagina, her awareness of her sexuality very much in evidence, as she felt the heat and the excessive lubrication. She smiled to herself, half awake, half asleep.
It was delicious, what was happening to her. Gone were the thoughts of her father's image. Gone were feelings of animalism and debasement. Gone was her sense of being a loner. She felt independent for the first time, and free. She couldn't really explain it, she just sensed it.
Her fingers moved in her vagina and, after a moment, when she realized that the same thing was happening to her as it happened on previous mornings, she reached under the pillow for her dildo, rolled over on her stomach, held it upright with her hands, and inserted it in her vagina and began to stroke her pelvis back and forth, her face buried in the pillow.
A long "aaahhhhhhh" and "ooooooohhhh," escaped her throat. "Delicious, delicious." She was talking into the pillow; enjoying the warmth in her groin.
After a while, she got up and quickly went through her morning ritual. Knowing it was Saturday, she was in a hurry. The prison would be relatively quiet. Almost the entire office staff would be gone. Only the prisoners and the guards would be on hand. And although she was on duty, she knew it would be a quiet day, and so she hurried to get there early to enjoy her hour with Emile.
She liked the idea of waiting for him, naked, on the pile of blankets. And she wanted to get there before he was through with his duties, as she had done the previous couple of days.
It was a lovely, sunny day, especially clear after the previous day's rain. Her heart was light, as she drove to the prison.
Coming into the parking lot, she was astonished to see Todd Anderson's car there and Slim's car and a couple of other cars that ordinarily weren't there on Saturday.
She was especially aware of Cindy's car, which was bright red and very familiar to her. She wondered what Cindy was doing there on Saturday. But she put it out of her mind, running happily up the corridor to the stockroom, where she knew she would find the pile of blankets and that special feeling she was experiencing with Emile.
She burst into the door and paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark room, the bright sunlight now coming through the tiny window, as though a spotlight had been turned on, brighter than the day before.
She moved forward before she should have; before her eyes had adjusted. She was so familiar with the room, now, that she went directly to the pile of blankets.
It was only when she was part way out of her clothes that she realized that Emile was sitting there, looking at her. She jumped, startled, of course, and then, realizing it was Emile, said, simply: "Oh, you surprised me. I didn't expect you to be here."
"Yes, I know, I was waiting for you. I hoped you would come."
She continued to undress, smiling at him, not lovingly, but puzzled by her feelings about this sweet, gentle man, sitting there. He had lost all his images of her ex-husband and now represented an entity all himself, but she had still not identified what it was he meant.
He reached out and stopped her. "No, not today. Don't take your clothes off today."
"Why?" was all she could say, not comprehending.
"We have to do something first," he said.
There was that familiar grip in her stomach. "Do something?" she said to herself. She looked at him. He was smiling. Her tensions vanished. "Alright," she said, buttoning her pants. She had never seen Emile quite so business-like. He simply took her arm and walked her out into the hallway.
She walked with him, wonderingly, but trusting him too. He said nothing, but there was a smile on his face. Aware of where they were walking, Carla only felt the first twinge of foreboding when she realized that Emile was walking toward Todd Anderson's office.
She paused in stride. "Emile," she said, pulling at his arm.
"It's alright," he said. "Come on."
She began to walk alongside of him again, her mind racing. Had he been an employee, rather than a prisoner, she would have been petrified. But she realized that Emile had no leverage, whatsoever, and so she walked along, her mind lulled by the thought that he had a surprise for her. Perhaps he had another room in the building she didn't know about. Her heart lightened, and then froze, as he stopped immediately in front of Warden Anderson's door and looked at her.
She remembered Todd's car in the parking lot. Surely Emile wasn't going to take her in Anderson's office.
He reached up and knocked on the door and she realized it was a special knock, like a signal. He was looking at her all the time, his eyes gentle with the same sweetness as usual.
She saw the door start to open and stared, in disbelief, into the eyes of a smiling Pierre, as he pulled it open and stepped aside. Just beyond him, directly on the top of Todd Anderson's desk, was Cindy, naked, and straddling the long, angular body of Slim Alexander, her cunt completely engulfing his cock, her hips grinding sensuously.
Carla stared, unbelievingly. She wanted to run. It was like a practical joke. And then she realized that Cindy had stopped and was looking up at her and was literally waving and smiling. It was only then that Carla realized that just beyond Slim Alexander's body was Todd Anderson's head and shoulders. He was obviously naked, as he sat in his office chair, watching the fucking on top of his desk. And when he saw Carla, he simply stood up, his heavily muscled frame, completely naked. He smiled at her, leaned forward, put his hand on his desk and said, almost as if addressing a group, "Come in, Carla, we've been waiting for you."
Frozen for a moment, Carla barely moved forward, and then she felt the gentle push of Emile's hand against the small of her back. She looked at him, startled.
"It's alright," he said. "Go on in."
She looked at Pierre, as she walked by. He was smiling. A friendly smile. A knowing smile. Tension seemed to pervade her body. She seemed unable to move. She looked around. Todd Anderson, naked. Slim Alexander fucking the office secretary on Todd Anderson's desk. Then she was aware of other people.
There was Pierre, of course. And on the couch, smiling up at her, completely naked, was Willie. And beside him, Frank Mattson, also naked. And her favorite lover, Parlay, standing not too far away, a white cup in his hand, smiling at her also. All of them friendly. The thought flashed across her mind. For God sakes, this is a surprise party, just as Todd Anderson said, "Surprise, Carla. This is a surprise party for you."
She simply stared around the room, in disbelief her total and complete emotion, her mouth open, her body unable to move.
Finally, Parlay laughed out loud, and said "She doesn't get it, Todd. She simply doesn't get it."
The group laughed. They were obviously friendly, obviously enjoying themselves. She realized, suddenly, that it really was a surprise party for her. She was flabbergasted. What the hell was going on.
Finally, she got her voice. "I don't understand. What the hell's going on?" She said it openly, directly. She looked at Todd, simply because it was his office.
"You will get it," he said. "You will get it, if you'll realize this is just a friendly surprise party for you, Carla. I don't see anything strange about us being naked. I don't see anything strange about Cindy getting fucked. I don't see why you should." He was almost mimicking her, but he was having fun, and she recognized that:
"What are you talking about. You people are crazy. What am I doing here." She whirled to Emile.
"It's alright," he said, his sweetness coming through. "It's really alright, Carla."
Some of the tension left her, but her bewilderment was still complete.
"Carla, if you'll just take off your clothes, like fhe rest of us, we'll explain everything."
"Take off my clothes," she said, the words barely audible. "Take off my clothes ... you're crazy."
"Take off your clothes," Todd said. "It's alright, believe me, it's alright. Take off your clothes and well explain."
She looked at Emile.
"Let's take off our clothes," he said.
She couldn't believe her ears. She was totally unprepared for everything. The idea of taking off her clothes in front of Todd Anderson was beyond her comprehension. This was the man with whom she had shared the tremendous confidences about her father, about his beliefs, about her purpose, about her purpose in the prison system. To take off her clothes in front him, even though he, himself, was naked, was incomprehensible.
"Here, I'll help you," Emile said. He began to unbuckle her belt.
"No." She pushed him away.
It was Parlay, who spoke. "Todd, she doesn't get it. You have to be more gentle. Don't ask her to take off her clothes. Explain it to her."
The room grew silent a moment, as Todd thought about what Parlay had said. Then he walked around the desk, his long athletic body moving easily, as he worked around in front of her.
For some reason, Carla deliberately kept her eyes away from his penis. She was literally embarrassed. She turned towards Emile and then she felt Todd's hand on her shoulder.
"It's alright, Carla. It really is alright. Come on over here and sit down, and I'll explain it carefully."
She sat down like an automaton, Pierre on one side of her and Emile on the other, leaning forward, her hands in her lap. Her eyes felt glazed, as she tried to penetrate the meaning in Todd's eyes. He was looking at her with great warmth and not a little humor, and he began to speak quietly.
"In a way, Carla, I feel I have betrayed your trust. But I think I can explain that. You see, also, in a way, I feel you are a victim, but I hope that when I get through talking, you feel like a happy and fortunate victim.. You see, all of this is the result of your friend Slim's deviousness. In other words, the whole thing is Slim's idea. So let me explain. You remember that first night, when Willie here, took your handcuffs and virtually raped you? Well, that was an accident. Willie did that on his own. The fact that you responded, or at least didn't report him, also was an accident and, in this case, a fortunate accident. Because you see, Willie told Slim. Now, a number of things happened subsequently. The biggest that you know about, of course, is that Slim got the idea of blackmailing you and proceeded to do so, and got you involved in all kinds of sex here within the prison. And Slim was carrying out his plan. The only thing he didn't realize, or didn't take into consideration, was that I, too, have my sources of information amongst the prisoners. And it wasn't long before the word got back to me what was going on. Granted, I couldn't believe it. But, let's face it, Carla, my job is a rough job. And though I'm married, I'm away from my wife a great deal because of my work, and my children, and my home. And as a result of that, I get as horny as anybody else. Having you as a confidant has been one of the great pleasures of my life, as has been knowing your father. But, by the same token, you have to realize that, because you're such a voluptuous, beautiful woman, knowing you and having you as a confidant has been also one of the great tortures of my life. To put it simply, I would like to fuck you as much as anybody in this prison. To this day, I haven't. But I plan to rectify that later this afternoon. Now, to make a long story short, what happened is that, because of my sources of information, I did find out what was going on and quickly put two and two together and realized that Slim was at the root of it. And so, I confronted Slim with my information. At first, he professed to know nothing about it. And then, because my evidence was so profound, he admitted it all. And I, because Slim was a good man, instead of simply firing him, turned the tables on him, and suggested that we carry out the plan even further, only to include me and Cindy in on it. To fill you in, though the first couple days of your sexual exploits with the prisoners was your own business, the last week has been the combined plan of both Slim and myself; the ultimate goal being to create here within the prison confines, a sort of a sexual family that gets along well and, as a result, one finds that the prison is operating with even more efficiency than ever before. Consequently, what Emile brought you in to today, is the heart of the family. We get together. We fuck. We enjoy each other. And, we welcome you into our midst." He grew silent.
Carla just stared at him. Her disbelief was almost total. She couldn't comprehend these words coming from Todd Anderson. Yet, there was no doubt in her mind they were true.
She looked at him, her body frozen. Everyone was staring at her, waiting.
Then, as if by magic inspiration, Emile put his hand on her hands. When Pierre saw that he, too, put his hand on her hands. And suddenly, Carla felt the warmth of two very, gentle men. She still couldn't move, but the warmth of their hands was like a major source of energy. Her mind began to concentrate on it. She pushed her disbelief away.
Finally, she sighed ... the problem resolved in her mind. She looked up at Todd.
"Todd Anderson, you're a son-of-a-bitch," she said, a smile cracking her face. "Now, I suggest you get that big cock of yours as hard as you can, as fast as you can."
The room was silent for a moment ... everyone not believing what they heard. The smile on Carla's face was genuine. And when she stood up and began to take off her clothes, everyone knew she had gotten the message.
