The guard towers were barely visible in the thick fog, the walls appearing to rise before her into the opaque, gray-white sky as Nancy drove her car into the parking lot, remembering to turn off her lights before grabbing purse and briefcase and locking up.
The forbidding edifice of the state's maximum security penal facility held no terrors whatever for her. She had been here before on a field trip with her advanced criminology class, almost a year ago. Back then, she had been able to convince herself that the pent up violence here was something with which she could somehow deal.
Even then, she had chosen to be assigned here after graduation. She had said nothing to her classmates, not even to her boyfriend, Brad, starting his assignment this same day at an honor farm for victimless crime offenders downstate.
"Welcome to the Castle, Miss Ritter," the guard said, checking her identification badge, grim-faced, reminding her of a servant in a horror movie. Satisfied, he shouted, "Jimmy! Show Miss Ritter to her office."
An old trustie, bent over, the faded gray of his prison garb matching his hair, walked in front of Nancy down a corridor, pointed to a green-painted door, her name in black letters on its wire-meshed, glass window.
"That be yo' office, ma'am. Warden Johnson, he say make yo'se'f to home, he be wif y'all soon he free."
Nancy nodded her thanks and went in, closing the door behind her.
Not bad, she thought. Desk, chairs, filing cabinets, window overlooking the exercise yard, a square of dirt, deserted at the bottom of a canyon of walls pierced by dark, barred windows, in sharp contrast to her office, which had nothing of a prison look about it, including the walls, which had been freshly painted pink.
Nancy sat down, putting her feet on the desk, high heeled shoes crossed, tweed skirt dangling from the chair.
Her mind traveled back to the weekend just passed. "Nancy, give me a break, will you? I know it isn't your fault they're sending you to the Castle, but at least put in for a transfer. I don't say to the farm, but maybe to the Women's Reformatory."
She and Brad were at Nancy's apartment, the one she had kept even after graduation. They had just returned from dinner and a movie. Nancy was fixing them both a drink while Brad remonstrated with her over the kitchenette counter.
"Brad dearest, you know I tried to stay with you on the assignment thing. It didn't work out, and that's too bad. But I intend to make the best of it and I can't think of anything worse for my career than trying to get out of the first thing they give me to do."
"There you go again with the career thing! I've told you, we can get married right away. I've got enough money from my inheritance for both of us. You don't need this, Nancy."
"Here. Drink your drink. And Brad dearest, please don't try to tell me what I need when I'm really into what I want."
"You know that's not what I meant, Nancy. I just want to see you happy, instead you're getting into a damned dangerous situation for no good reason."
"No good reason? I have very good reasons. It's just that you don't respect them. Or maybe it's me you don't respect."
"Oh, Nancy, don't ever say that," Brad said, eyes growing wide, putting his drink down. "I do respect you, more than anyone I've ever known."
"How much do you respect me, Brad?"
"How-how-I-I don't see-"
"Don't tell me, Brad. Show me."
"What is it you want me to do?"
"I want you to give me your respect. I want you to make me feel it, to know it's there."
Nancy stood up. In addition to her plain, white blouse, she was wearing high heels, stockings held up by a garter belt, a skirt, and panties.
Brad watched as she slipped the panties off underneath her skirt and they slid down her long legs to the floor.
"Now you're talkin'! " Brad said, standing up and unbuckling his belt.
"Never mind that," Nancy said. "You keep your clothes on. This isn't your usual weekly boff. You were going to show me respect, remember? So this time, things are going to be a little different."
Nancy lay down on the couch, one arm and one leg over the back, the other leg dangling on the floor, her skirt hiked up to reveal the soft, chestnut curls that covered the pouting pink lips of her cunt.
"Come on, Brad. Respect me!"
Brad looked up at Nancy's face. She stared down at him, expressionless, one eyebrow cocked.
Brad's gaze dropped to the pussy in front of his face. Slowly Brad bent forward, feeling his lips touch the lips before him, the surrounding bush rubbing against his nose.
The tip of his tongue parted the fleshy, pink walls and found the button of her clitoris. He lapped at it, then rolled it around, feeling it stiffen as his saliva began to combine with the flow of her juices.
"Brad?"
"Yes?" he replied, stopping and looking up at her.
"No, no, don't stop. You can talk to me and do that at the same time. Now, let's try it again."
Brad reinserted his tongue and quickly found the target once more.
"Brad?"
"Yeth?"
"Do you respect me?"
"Oh courth I rithpech restroom."
"You mean it?"
"Yeth!"
"Good boy," Nancy said, putting her head back and sighing with pleasure.
She could see his forehead redden as he warmed to the task, the strokes of his tongue now coming faster and harder. Now he had a hand on each of her thighs, pressing as though trying to stretch her wider.
Nancy thrust her hips forward, engulfing his hot tongue with the split peach of her drooling pussy as he lapped her clit with wet relentlessness.
"Brad?"
"Yeth?"
"Do you like the way I taste?"
"Yeth! I wuvva tayss!"
"And you'll always respect me?"
"Awway rithpech restroom."
"Okay, Brad, bring me all the way home."
Her one-handed grip on his scalp tightened and she mashed his face into her hot, streaming crotch, his thick, drooling tongue massaging her clit with strong, long strokes.
Suddenly, Nancy sat up, clamping Brad's face with her strong, rounded thighs, pumping her pelvis in short, rapid jerks as, somewhere deep within her, a separate sensation of intense ecstasy began to grow, its first distinct pulsing merging into a tingle of delight, its intensity continuing to heighten until it seemed to buzz in her ears as well as vibrating throughout her whole body.
Finally, the pleasure filled her completely, a pressure of sensation demanding release until, like a dam bursting, wave after wave of hot juices exploded from her, flooding Brad's feverish, working face, combining with his sweat to run down onto his collar and tie.
When the last spasm of her climax had died, Nancy unclamped Brad's face and quickly sat up on the couch, skirt demurely arranged, posture upright and proper.
Brad, his face almost purple with arousal, slick and shining with sweat, saliva, and pussy juice, temporarily unable to move from his kneeling position, hard-on bulging huge inside his gray trousers, gazed at her, his eyes glazed with passion.
"Nancy, you're not going to leave me like this, are you?"
"Of course not, darling. Especially now that I know you respect me. Come here and let me unzip you.
Slowly, carefully, Brad got to his feet, knees cracking. Slowly, carefully, Nancy unzipped his trousers, a bulge of white underpants springing out as soon as the zipper released it.
Nancy deftly hooked a finger into the opening, found the elastic of his shorts, and pulled it forward and down. His erection, hard and ruddy, stood straight out, the head matching his face in the color of its engorged knob.
"My, my, he's really ready, isn't he?" Nancy asked, her voice calm and cool.
"I'm ready, I'm ready," Brad gasped, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"So I see," Nancy said, taking the tumescent organ gently in the palm of one hand, feeling its hardness, weight, and heat, then grasping it in her soft, warm palm and beginning to pump in gentle strokes. "In fact, you're more than ready, aren't you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, but I, that is I don't-hey, watch it or I'll, I'll-"
"You'll what, darling?" Nancy asked coolly as Brad's jism shot all over her forearm in thick, rapid spurts. Smoothly, as if she had known all along what was going to happen, Nancy grabbed a bunch of tissues from a dispenser box on an end table and neatly gathered the sticky fluid from her arm.
"Let me get rid of this," Nancy said, taking the wad of messy tissues into the kitchen and putting it into the waste basket.
"Well," she said, returning in long, rapid strides to where Brad was standing, "Thank you for a lovely evening."
"You're welcome, I'm sure, but does it have to end now."
"Yes, I'm afraid it does. Tomorrow, our careers begin, remember?"
Hooking her arm through Brad's she steered him to the door.
Brad pulled away from her. Careful to let nothing show in his voice, he asked, "I respect you, Nancy, but do you respect me?"
"Always, darling, always," Nancy said, opening the door, kissing him lightly on the forehead, and propelling him out the door, locking it behind him.
As she strode toward the bathroom, she heard a faint voice shouting in the hallway, "Then you could at least have let me wash my face!"
*****
That was last night, she reflected, recrossing her legs, and this is this morning. Poor Brad. She had picked him in college because of his looks. The money and the pleasant personality were bonuses, unlooked for and neither welcome nor unwelcome, except for the comforting thought that at least she could take him anywhere and not be embarrassed and never had to worry about whether he could afford the evening and if she should pick up part of the check. He wasn't a bad lay, either.
Brad was adequate. Yes, she thought, that's the word. Adequate. Maybe she would keep him, maybe not. On the scale of priorities, Brad ranked somewhere between fifteenth and twentieth, she guessed. As for priority one, where the hell was this fucking warden?
As though this thought was a command, the door opened a crack, admitting a florid face with bifocals, a receding hairline, and a cherubic grin.
"Miss Ritter? Or do I call you Ms?"
"Nancy will be fine. And you are Warden Johnson, I take it. Please. Do come in."
Nancy stood and they shook hands.
Tall, overweight, in a dark gray, pin-striped suit, grin unwavering, Warden Johnson gestured expansively around the small office.
"Like it?" he asked.
"Was the pink your idea?" Nancy asked.
"Yes. Yes, indeed. Nothing's too good for my newest penologist."
"Criminologist. And that's merely the degree. I'm here as a Corrections Officer Level 10."
"Of course you are," the warden laughed, great Santa minus red flannel and beard. "And, if I may say so, a very pretty one at that. That's why I made you a cute, pink office. You do like it, I hope."
Nancy resisted the temptation to reply truthfully through gritted teeth. Instead, she managed a simple, "Yes," followed an instant later by, "Thank you."
"Well, you're more than welcome, I'm sure. And anything I can do to make your stay here more pleasant, you just let me know."
Great, Nancy thought, now I'm at Club Med! Too much, really.
"What are my duties, exactly?"
"Exactly?"
The warden sighed, leaning against the window sill, watching the yard slowly fill with convicts as the morning exercise period began.
"Been at this thirty-odd years, man and boy," he said, almost to himself. "Seen things a body'd be hard put to believe, didn't see it for himself. Seen what these animals do to themselves, to guards, to each other. Seen what they do on the outside, you give 'em half a chance. Seen ev'ry kind of prison reform, every kind of reformer, every kind of bureaucrat you can imagine, too, all of 'em with all the answers. Never seen one, didn't have it all figgered out. An' me right here in the middle. Me and what help I can get. Except now I don't go out and get help, I get it handed to me. I needed more guards. Still do. Instead-lookit here," he said, turning to her, "I know it ain't your fault, and I'm damned if I'm gonna let what's happenin' cause me to take it out on you, so let's you and me be real good friends."
"Fine. I'd like that. But I came here to do a job."
"Tell you what. I am appointing you Staff Liaison to the Parole Board."
"But what are my duties?"
"Whatever you want them to be. You got your parole board over here," he said, bunching imaginary people on one corner of her empty desk, "an' ya got yer criminal types comin' up for parole over here." Bunch, bunch. "In between is you, ma personal representative, tellin' these good folks what these bad folks is all about."
"But the board has access to the same records as I do. And they're supposed to have reviewed them prior to the hearings."
"Regulations require a representative from the staff to be present and give recommendations."
"But not as a full-time job."
The warden shrugged. "Job's what you make of it, is all I can say."
"And what does this, this position lead to?" The warden grinned wryly, thinking that one over.
"Tell ya what. You do a real good job, keep an eye on the civil service postings, and you see one you like, you just tell your old uncle here that's what you want, I'll fix it so's you got a better'n even chance."
"To get out of here, you mean."
"If that's what you want, little lady. Until then, mi casa su casa.
"Now, anything you need, files, supplies, whatever, you just contact the guard captain's office and we'll get it right down to you."
"And if I need to see a prisoner?"
"Now, why would you want to go and do a foolish thing like that?"
Nancy smiled. "You see? You ARE interested in how I do this job."
The warden gave his Santa Claus laugh. "Got me fair and square on that one didn't ya?" Then, turning serious, he said. "You'll have to go to an interview room for that."
"I'm sorry, Warden. That won't do. I am not a visitor. You have social workers, teachers, and clergy who meet privately with prisoners face to face and unsupervised. I need the same thing."
"Damned if I know why, but you got it. I'll have the boys clean up a holding cell."
"Thank you. And Warden?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't paint it pink." Again, the laugh.
"Don't worry. It will have none of the comforts of home, unless the guard captain's got a better idea. Listen," he said, looking at his pocket watch, "I've got some serious business to attend to now, but I'll stop by here around noon. We'll have lunch and I'll give you the grand tour."
And he left.
Gone was her confidence of this morning, her vision of working her way up through the ranks of prison management shattered. How could it all have begun so well and then, in a matter of hours, threatened to end so miserably?
Was the warden really as kindly and well-meaning as he seemed? That remark about needing guards and getting her instead, or words to that effect. Then leaving her in order to attend to "serious business".
Easy, girl, she told herself. Don't get paranoid, but you've got a real problem here. Meanwhile, there is a job to be created, if that's possible, and then you can fight the battle from there.
She picked up her phone, scanning the internal directory while seated on the edge of her desk.
"Guard captain's office? I'd like the schedule of parole hearings and the files on the people due for the next session. Oh, this is Nancy Ritter. I'm in the administrative wing, room, ah," straining to see the number that appeared backwards from the inside of the door, "three oh six. Thank you."
Fifteen minutes later, a guard appeared carrying several folders and sheets of paper.
"You'll have to sign for these, Ms. Ritter. And don't leave them unattended unless you lock them in your filing cabinet. The captain wanted to be sure you knew."
"I'm looking forward to meeting him, this captain of yours."
"I'm sure the feeling will be mutual, ma'am," the guard replied, eyeing her appreciatively up and down.
"Thank you," she smiled, glad that she was still able to maintain the veneer of civility in the face of yet another gratuitous insult, this time to her intelligence.
Her eye fell on the sheet of paper on top of the stack the guard had left on her desk. It was the schedule of parole hearings.
Name, number, cell location, date of hearing. Nothing to indicate why they were here or for how long. That information would be in the files. Okay, who's on first? Aha, Bolero, Ramon.
First on the sheet, first file on top of the stack. The face that stared back at her, only to turn sideways in the next frame, was certainly handsome, if only in the sense of regular features and good grooming. That his expression was not too happy was understandable, considering the circumstances in which the pictures were taken.
Second conviction. For rape. For rape committed while on parole from his first conviction. Open and shut. This guy was not going to make it.
Let's not waste a lot of time on this, Nancy thought, closing the file and setting it aside.
Next case.
Nancy checked the next name on the sheet and pulled the next file.
Wait a minute, she thought. Not so fast! Sure the warden's a pig. Sure he gave you a bullshit job. But at least take a shot at doing the job he gave you. Don't deny this guy a fair hearing.
Nancy shook her head on that thought. How did one give a so-called fair hearing to some son of a bitch who committed rape while out on parole for the same crime? How did he even become eligible for parole?
Curious, she went back to the first file. Model prisoner both terms, she noted. First conviction for statutory rape based on mental condition of the victim.
This was getting complicated. Maybe the second conviction will clear it up. Trial by jury, conviction upon plea of not guilty, circumstances of crime absent mitigation upon separate finding ... what the hell is all this gobbledygook?
Why did they bother having files that don't tell you anything? Damn, she thought. Now I'll have to wade through the transcript.
Annoyed, she picked up the phone and punched numbers. "Hello. This is Nancy Ritter again. Do I get trial transcripts from you, too? No? Oh. Let me write that down. Thanks. No, no. That's okay. I'll call myself. 'Bye now."
Ramon Bolero. I'll get to the bottom of you yet, she thought, drumming her fingers on the desk.
Then, reluctantly, she phoned the state court librarian's office, securing a promise of delivery of the transcript that afternoon.
2
Lunch time. "Welcome to the staff cafeteria, Nancy. The food is awful, but don't worry about it. They won't give you enough to really hurt you."
Nancy followed the warden through the line, watching as he piled his tray with one of everything. She selected her own food carefully.
"My treat today," the warden said, paying the cashier for both of them.
"Thank you."
"Not at all, not at all ... Oh! There's Ralph, the guard captain. Want ya ta meet him. Nice fellah.
"Nancy, Ralph Caprio. Ralph, Nancy Ritter. Bureau of Prisons sent 'er over ta straighten the place out, har har."
Nancy avoided reddening with anger or embarrassment, sat her tray down carefully, then herself, nodding to the tall, muscular man in the uniform who rose politely.
Nancy smiled at him as he sat down again, noting his dark, good looks.
"We'll have your interview cell ready this afternoon, Nancy."
"That's good. I'd like to get started talking to the potential parolees as soon as possible."
"Save ya a heapa trouble there, Nancy," the warden said between mouthfuls. "Next three weeks, anybody makes it to their hearing, they get a free pass. All ya gotta do is confirm to the board that they served the proper time for eligibility an' didn't kill nona their fellow inmates in the process. And before you get yerself riled up over that, you'd best take a look at my overcrowding problem."
Nancy controlled her fork, preventing it from shaking as she brought it to her lips. She felt like a nail being driven into wood, each development of her day a blow, shortening her as she disappeared.
"Like to show you around tomorrow, when the prisoners are out in the yard," Ralph said.
"Why not?" Nancy replied.
Nancy was surprised when she got back to her office and discovered the transcript of the Bolero trial already on her desk. Her next reaction was one of disgust with herself and with the situation. She was glad that she had not thought to order the transcripts of the other candidates for parole, since they were all programmed for success, whatever her findings.
In fact, she decided not to look at the transcript. Why bother, after all?
Then, seeing by her watch that it was not even two yet, she opened it up, just to pass the time.
The facts were few and simple. Bolero had waited in the men's room of a large office building until after five thirty, when most of the occupants had left. Dressed as a maintenance man, he had emerged, prowling the corridors, seeking, to use his own phrase, "targets of opportunity". Nodding to a secretary just as she was entering a ladies' room to clean up before she left, he pushed in behind her and "did his thing".
So much for the facts, freely admitted by Bolero himself and confirmed by the victim.
But the defense. Ah, the defense! Not guilty by virtue of diminished capacity. A modernized, tricky version of the old temporary insanity plea.
Let's see how this plays, she thought, reading:
MR. SILVERMAN: Please explain to the court exactly what thoughts went through your mind when you decided to go out and commit a crime identical to the one for which you were on parole at the time.
MR. CURZIO: Objection, your honor. Irrelevant.
JUDGE MARGATE: No, I'll allow it. Proceed with your explanation, Mr. Bolero.
MR. BOLERO: Thank you, your honor, and I appreciate the opportunity to clear up this little misunderstanding.
MR. CURZIO: Really, your honor.
JUDGE MARGATE: Yes. Mr. Bolero, you will confine yourself to your explanation. Proceed.
MR. BOLERO: Your honor, it's like I hear voices. Well, not voices, exactly. I'm not crazy. I know they're not out loud. They're more like, well, I guess you'd call them brain waves. like, I can hear certain kinds of thoughts, coming from women. Nancy felt a combination of anger and amusement rising within her. What was this clown Silverman thinking of, putting up a defense like this? Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say:
JUDGE MARGATE: You're saying you're a mind reader?
MR. BOLERO: No, no. Well, not exactly, your honor. It's like I can read certain kinds of thought waves.
JUDGE MARGATE: What kinds?
MR. BOLERO: Well, you know-not you personally, of course-but men in general, they see a good looking woman, they think they'd like to go to bed with her. So women, they have these same thoughts when they see someone, well, someone like myself. Except that, I don't know myself how it works, it's like I can hear them thinking it. I walk down the street and I get a hundred propositions, beaming right at me. And I admit it, it's a real turn-on for me. Only it's a real problem for them, because women aren't supposed to make the first move. It's not them, your honor, and it's not me, it's society. What's the woman supposed to do? She can't just walk up to me and ask for a boff. And I can't just can't go up to a good looking woman, offer to fuck her, and have her agree on the spot. There has to be a token resistance. So we both play the game, and everybody ends up happy. I'm performing a public service. How about that? You and me, your honor, we're both serving the public.
JUDGE MARGATE: Any further disturbance and I will clear the court. Mister Silverman, if I thought for one moment that you and your client had rehearsed this, this testimony ... enough said.
MR. SILVERMAN: Understood, your honor. Your honor will appreciate that my client and I are not in agreement concerning his mental state. That is why I have as my next witness a qualified psychiatrist, into whose care and keeping-
MR. CURZIO: Your honor, if defense is making a motion-
JUDGE MARGATE: You are out of order, Mr. Silverman. Mr. Bolero, is there more to this?
MR. BOLERO: Yes, your honor. The most important part. I got the signal from the lady there, loud and clear, or so I thought. Only I was wrong. In reality, I was reminding her of her hot date for later on that evening, and instead of me, she actually wanted to get fucked by this guy that she-
JUDGE MARGATE: That's more than enough of that,
Mr. Bolero. Mr. Silverman, if there is nothing more of this witness, I'll call for cross examination. Mr. Curzio?
MR. CURZIO: I feel that the nature of the testimony precludes intelligent cross examination.
JUDGE MARGATE: You may step down, Mr. Bolero.
MR. BOLERO: But you do understand that I simply misunderstood her brain signals-
JUDGE MARGATE: Bailiff, escort Mr. Bolero to his seat. The jury will disregard that last remark.
The psychiatrist's testimony followed, merely affirming the possibility and existence of states of mind in which delusions of the kind claimed by the defense do exist. But, just as Nancy thought that Silverman might have a shot, the prosecution, in its one and only brilliant moment, got the doctor to admit that such a state, even if genuine, could be self-induced.
Curzio deliberately left that last remark hanging and Silverman did not pursue the matter of whether or not the issue of self-inducement applied to his client.
The jury found Bolero guilty.
He got twenty years. That was three years ago. And now, he was going to be paroled.
If the jury had followed the original plea and ordered Bolero institutionalized, he might still be kept locked up. Now, in three days, he would be out and free to take up where he had left off. Justice, she thought. It's marvelous.
It was not until she got back to her apartment at the end of the day that Nancy allowed the full impact of all that had happened to hit her.
She knew why she was so intrigued by the Bolero case. It was because Bolero was a rapist and this day had been one long rape of her hopes and her ambitions, a rape by the very system of which she had intended becoming an integral and important part.
She had been stripped of her possibilities and made to stand by helplessly as all meaning and direction for her career was trampled into the dirt.
Okay, she told herself, so much for wallowing in self pity. You wanted to play by their rules. But they won't even let you onto the playground. Fine. As of now, you are hereby authorized to make your own rules. You can make them up as you go along, break them whenever it suits you, and just have yourself a ball, all the while rising steadily to the top. Sounds good, anyway.
Idly, she stripped for the shower, leaving her clothes in a heap on the bedroom floor.
Casually, her mind a deliberate blank, she automatically went through the motions, the water a little hotter than usual, the steam rising around her, making her vision, like her thoughts, hazy and nebulous.
Lazily, she dried herself, patting her damp curves dry before wrapping her hair in a towel and putting on robe and slippers.
Slowly, she fixed herself a sandwich in the kitchen, pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, and went back into the living room, where she turned on the TV and seated herself on the couch. She stared at the screen, deliberately forcing her mind to remain idle, knowing better than to try to hatch a plan of action so soon after the many traumas of the day.
Her eye wandered repeatedly to her briefcase near the door where she had dropped it like some offensive burden when she came home.
Finally, she took a swig of beer, got up, and brought it over to the couch, placing it on the coffee table and snapping it open.
She took out the trial transcript, turning to the victim's testimony:
MISS STACY: He told me not to scream.
MR. CURZIO: Did he threaten you?
MISS STACY: I felt threatened. He was holding my wrists and his grip got tighter each time I tried to pull away.
MR. CURZIO: How long did this continue?
MISS STACY: For a very short time. I told him I really did have to use the bathroom.
MR. CURZIO: Then what happened?
MISS STACY: He said, 'Fine, let me help you,' to which I said that I didn't need any help, but he insisted, pulling up my dress and pulling down my panties and throwing them into one of the toilet stalls. Then, he pulled up my dress around my waist, picked me up with one arm around my waist and the other under my knees and held me over the sink while I went. I really did have to go.
MR. CURZIO: And was he content with that?
MISS STACY: He was not. He even held me up high, so that he could watch in the mirror. And when I was done, he sat me on the edge of the sink and made me lean back against the mirror with my legs spread. He warned me not to move while he unzipped his trousers. He wasn't wearing any underwear.
MR. CURZIO: I don't want to unduly distress you, Miss Stacy, but I must insist on asking this for the record: Was there physical penetration of your vaginal orifice by his sexual organ?
MISS STACY: You mean, did he make love to me?
MR. CURZIO: I mean, did he forcibly engage you in sexual intercourse and did he complete the act?
MISS STACY: Oh, it was no act. It was the real thing, all right. In fact, he must have been, like, storing it up. I mean, when he came, it was like-
MR. CURZIO: Please, spare yourself this painful recounting. But he did complete the sexual act, injecting sperm into your body, did he not? MISS STACY: I thought he'd never stop coming.
MR. CURZIO: Let the record show that the witness responded in the affirmative. Just one more question, Miss Stacy: Were you ever, at any time, in fear for your life? MISS STACY: Yes. Yes, because he not only didn't make any effort to disguise himself, he even told me his name. His first name, that is. So that he knew I'd be able to identify him. I mean, that's kind of crazy, isn't it? Because if he let me go after what he did, he had to know we'd end up right here, wouldn't he? So who, in his right mind--
MR. CURZIO: All right, Miss Stacy. You've answered the question. Your honor, I have no further questions of this witness.
JUDGE MARGATE: Mr. Silverman?
MR. SILVERMAN: Just one question, your honor: Miss Stacy, I sympathize with your ordeal. But were you physically injured in any way by the defendant?
MISS STACY: Well I was raped, you know.
MR. SILVERMAN: That was your perception.
MR. CURZIO: Objection, your honor. JUDGE MARGATE: Sustained. You are not at liberty to characterize the testimony of the witness, Mr. Silverman.
MR. SILVERMAN: Sorry, your honor. But the fact is, Miss Stacy, that you came out of this experience none the worse for wear, after which you promptly stopped a squad car on the street and assisted the officers in apprehending my client, who insisted on making a full confession on the spot, even though advised of his rights.
MISS STACY: like I said, it was really crazy.
MR. SILVERMAN: Crazy, as opposed to painful, harmful, frightening, life-threatening, to use my esteemed colleague's phrase, is that correct?
MR. CURZIO: Objection.
JUDGE MARGATE: Sustained. Mr. Silverman, you know that this witness is not qualified to characterize the mental state of the defendant.
Nancy put the transcript back into her briefcase. She had read enough. It was enough and more than enough. She wandered into the bedroom, letting the robe slide off her and onto the floor as she crawled into the bed and reached into her night-stand, pulling out her vibrator.
Clutching the device in one hand, she lay on the bed, the melons of her breasts resting flaccid on her chest, legs slightly spread.
Ramon, she thought, tonight, as every night for the last three years, you are rotting in a prison cell, your big, beautiful balls loaded with jism that has nowhere to go. And your cock, your great big, beautiful cock, so long, so thick, so powerful, so free and easy on the draw, it is right there with you, trapped, like you, frustrated, imprisoned, useless. You are there and I am here, here in my bedroom, where I will rape your essence, the idea of you. I will use your image, without your permission, to serve my pleasure. I will use you to my heart's content and give you nothing in return. And when I am satisfied, I will toss you aside, frustrated, unfulfilled, and still incarcerated.
Her eyes closed, in her mind she sees herself, alone in the empty corridor of an office building, high heels clacking on the marble floor, passing one closed door after another as she searches for the women's lavatory.
At last, she finds it. But she does not go in. She stands outside the door. Ramon, pushing a pail on rollers with a mop in it, comes down the hallway, jaunty, whistling. He sees her, nods, and tries to continue down the hall.
She puts out a hand, touching his shoulder, stopping him, turning him toward her.
She fixes his gaze with her own eyes. He lets go of the mop handle and straightens up, facing her, his eyes glazing over.
She beckons with her finger, backing into the lavatory, eyes never leaving his. He marches slowly, stiffly, after her.
Slowly, deliberately, she unzips his coveralls, revealing his bulging pectorals, then the ridges of his abdominal muscles, then his thick, black bush, and finally, his cock and balls, which hang limp and huge, over the bottom of the opening.
She moves one hand in front of his crotch with the conjuring motion of a magician raising a rabbit from a hat and Ramon's cock, with a life of its own, lengthens, thickens, and stiffens, until it stands before him, erect and throbbing, the balls tightened beneath.
Nancy positions herself, legs spread, skirt hiked up to reveal her pussy, on a marble shelf next to the sink. She commands Ramon with her eyes and he walks stiffly forward, the bulbous head of his monstrous erection penetrating her as the drooling lips of her cunt part under the pressure of his advance.
The muscles of her vagina grip his huge, hot intruder and she thrusts her hips forward to meet his lunge.
In a semi-automatic reflex, born of long practice, the hand holding the vibrator turns it on with a flick of a finger and the tapered, flesh-colored, rubber tip finds its way into her salivating crack.
The device shafts all the way into her as Ramon's turgid cock does the same in her mind.
Now her pussy takes on a life of its own, the grasping, sucking motion of it on Ramon's cock transmitting surges of raw pleasure through her body as he stares into her eyes, obeying her unspoken, hypnotic command to pump faster and faster.
Beads of sweat form on his forehead. The glistening muscles of his chest and abdomen heave with the exertion of his breath as he pants, lips parted, tongue lolling slightly outside his mouth, his face and body flushing through the smooth tan of his skin.
Faster and faster she forces him, his body at times seeming to blur with the speed she commands.
At first, she ignores the mounting waves of ecstasy building within her, feeling them as background as she maintains her power, her control, over Ramon, whom she has turned into an object, a tool, a thing, to be used for her own pleasure. Now, it is the pleasure itself that begins to take the lead in her mind. With an almost casual thought wave, she brings Ramon to maximum vibration. He could die from the strain and exertion and she would not care. She could drain him, leaving him a dessicated mummy, a dried up husk. She would not care.
Finally, she surrenders to her own feeling of delight. From somewhere deep within her, a growing, glowing warmth begins to throb, strengthening its frequency and intensity, each pulse reaching a new plateau of delight until, moaning aloud, she feels the hot spurts of his jism, hemorrhaging into her, shot after shot, strong, thick, and constant, the spasms of her climaxing cunt forcing the white syrup to spurt out of her, overflowing around the massive pole which continues to pump away until, with a final shudder, the heat of passion's pleasure is replaced with a smug, self-satisfied calm.
She laughs as Ramon, spent, destroyed, staggers back, his huge, wet dong limp and swinging. Ramon puts a wrist to his sweating brow. His eyes roll up into his head and he slumps to the floor unconscious.
Still laughing, she stands over him looking down. He does not move. Carefully, her skirt still around her hips, Nancy squats over his face. She empties her bladder, the thick steam of hot, yellow fluid splattering his handsome features before running into his collar and onto the floor. Still, he does not move.
She straightens her skirt and begins to walk away from the motionless form. On impulse, she turns. This will not do, she thinks. Not at all. He must know what has happened and that I am the one who did it. To him.
She walks back over to him just as he moans and begins to stir. He sits up with a start, wiping the stinging urine from his eyes with his hands.
Blinking, he looks at her and realizes what has happened. He is afraid, terrified, as he scoots away from her, cringing against the far wall, clinging to the tile, afraid to look at her.
Smiling, she captures his gaze with her own once more. Helpless, fighting the spell, he realizes that he is too weak to resist and, with one final, hysterical convulsion, he faints.
Laughing, she strides from the room.
As the door closes. Nancy lets herself drift back to reality, pulling the vibrator out and turning it off.
She turns on the alarm of the clock radio beside the bed, turns off the light, and lets the vibrator roll onto the floor, resolving to clean it, the bed, and herself in the morning, her only desire now being for a good night's sleep.
3
They're all trapped in there-the prisoners, the guards, the staff. Men in a cage, caught in a web of their own making, victims of entrapment, reduced to victimizing each other.
As she proceeded beyond the check point to her office, Nancy became even more aware of the prison's aura of hopelessness. It hung in the very air, this atmosphere of doomed, endless, pointless frustration. The warden himself had radiated it yesterday, muttering in general about his problems, half to her, half to himself.
She slammed her briefcase down on her desk with a resounding thump, saying to herself, Okay, men. You've got yourself a visitor to your little gray world. Quite a cute zoo you've got going here. Only I'm going to take this fucking zoo and turn it into a circus. And I'll be the ringmaster. Make that ringmistress.
And none of this equality shit, either. Piss on that. Oh, you'll all be equal, all right-equally under my high heel, by the time I'm through.
Picking up the phone, she jabbed the buttons.
"Let me speak to the Captain, please. Hello, Ralph? Nancy. You knew? How? I'm really the only woman here? I didn't even see that yesterday. Well, anyway, I'm ready for the grand tour. As soon as they're in the yard, then. And Ralph? I'm really looking forward to working with you."
As the prisoners filed into the yard below, the guard captain entered her office.
"All set?" he asked.
"Ready when you are. And my, don't we look nice today?" She meant it. Yesterday, Ralph's uniform seemed rumpled, almost as though, without the brass insignia, he would not have looked much different from the prisoners. Today, his creases were sharp, shoes, cap bill, and metal sparkling, black hair looking freshly cut.
"Thanks," he replied. "I know just what you mean. It's just that, before yesterday, I didn't have any reason to do much more with myself than show up."
"And now?"
He looked her in the eye and said, "Now you're here."
"Yes, I am," she said, smiling at him, resisting the impulse to add "so what?" to her reply.
"I'd like to think we'll be spending a lot of time together here really getting to know each other," he said, hesitating a moment before adding, "After all, it's not as though either of us has a lot to do. Neither of us is married, I'm a man, you're a woman. What say we fight the boredom together?"
"Great, Ralph. One thing, though. We do what we do with each other just for kicks. I'm not looking for a love affair, and you'd better not be, either. I'm a career girl and that comes first. You help me and I'll see to it that you're not bored."
Ralph, a puzzled expression on his face, said, "You got it. I don't see what kind of a career you've got going here, but anything I can do, just name it."
She advanced to him and he took her in his arms. They kissed. With mouths sealed to each other, Ralph started fumbling for one of her large breasts.
Nancy pulled away.
"Not here, Ralph. Let's do the tour now, and you can show me where my interview room will be."
"Is," Ralph corrected. "I didn't waste any time. It's got some features I think you'll like."
They walked quickly, Ralph pointing out the other administrative offices to her. Through the clear glass windows of one, she saw the warden at work, signing papers at his desk.
Passing through locked doors, opened for them by armed guards, they went by Ralph's office, then the guard room and on into the main cell area, looking up from the central well at the tiers of cells, open and empty, since the prisoners were still in the yard.
"The cells are all alike. No point in going up there," Ralph explained.
"Mess hall, kitchen, showers, entrance to work shops, laundry, infirmary, gym." he ticked off as they walked.
"Solitary confinement cells," he said. "Empty at the moment."
"No problems?"
"Big problems! I'll go into that with you later. But what I mainly wanted to show you is this," he said, taking a key from his pocket and opening a metal door identical to all the others in the solitary row, heavy and with a peep hole.
However, instead of a cell, they walked into a hallway with another door of plain wood which wasn't locked.
Nancy couldn't repress a smile as she turned to him and said, "Ralph! It's nice. Almost beautiful, in fact. How did you ever manage...."
"You ask, you get," he said, cutting her off. "I took a shot, is all. I figured we'd need a place, if you went along with me. And this is it."
"It certainly is!" she exclaimed, looking with wonder at the pile carpeting, the overstuffed furniture, the lamps and end tables. Except for the absence of windows and a curtain which covered the far end of the room, it could have been a luxury apartment.
Ralph pulled the curtain aside, revealing a bed of the kind used in the prison hospital, a small refrigerator, a double tub sink and; to one side, a cinder block shower stall. He closed the curtain.
"Sorry about the facilities," he said. "Had to make do with prison issue. And here, here, and here," he added, pointing to various places in the apartment, "are buzzers. You're to have one in your hand at all times when you're interviewing prisoners, since the guard that brings them here will be in the hallway, in case of trouble."
"I don't think I'll have any trouble, but I'll keep them in mind."
He gave her a strange look, shrugged, and said, "Suit yourself."
"Oh, I intend to," she replied. "In fact, you've done such a terrific job here, I think you deserve an instant reward."
Ralph grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that," he replied, removing his billed cap and jacket.
They didn't race, but quickly and efficiently removed their clothes, turning to face each other when they were both naked.
"My, my," she said, weighing his heavy hanging balls in her hand, "you're a big one, aren't you?"
Fondling her large, firm breasts, he replied, "Nature was pretty good to you, too."
"They say it's what you do with what you've got that counts," Nancy said, gently massaging the long, rapidly thickening tube of his dong.
Sweeping aside the partitioning curtain, Ralph smirked, "Shall we test that theory?"
"I'm all for this kind of research, Ralph. Are you sure we won't be disturbed?"
"Fairly sure. There's no reason for anyone to enter this area. Only Jimmy is authorized down this corridor, officially to keep the hallway clean, but also to clean up the pecker tracks and change the sheets. And no, before you even think it, this setup is brand new, created by me especially for you. Those are new instructions I gave to Jimmy personally, as of yesterday afternoon."
Ralph didn't hesitate an instant, rolling her onto her back and spreading her legs, then inserting his ramrod-stiff prong immediately.
"In a big hurry, are we?" Nancy asked, smiling up at him, eyes half shut with the pleasure of receiving the initial thrust of his firm intruder.
"Just want to get the edge off," he said, beginning to pump his hips. "Once I pop my safety valve, we can get down to the big technique scene."
Nancy began thrusting her hips upward in unison with his downward movements, forcing his long, thick monster extra deep each time. Ralph, as though to concentrate on her total being, put his hands under her thighs and shoved her knees toward her shoulders. With his own muscular shoulders on the backs of her legs, he put his arms around their outside and grasped Nancy's shoulders.
Then, lowering his head, he took the large, rosy nipple of one breast into his mouth and began sucking on it in time to his ever-quickening hip motion.
Ralph seemed to grow longer, harder, hotter inside her, the lubrication of the juices of their passion allowing an increase in speed until they seemed to vibrate.
When Nancy was sure that Ralph was at absolute maximum erection, she changed her pelvic motion into one of rapid circles, so that each downward stroke of the meat piston produced a slightly different sensation for both of them while continuing to feed the wave of pleasure that enveloped them as it grew in size.
Nancy was surprised at herself. Far from being carried away in the throes of passion, she was thoroughly enjoying herself while a part of her remained cool and detached, an observer of herself in action. She knew that, at the rate Ralph was going at it, they would not have time for her to reach climax-this round.
As though to confirm her in this estimate of the situation, Ralph groaned as his huge, hot load injected itself into her in a series of strong, definite spurts, each of slightly smaller volume than the last.
When the final reflex had passed through him, Ralph rolled off of her.
"Feel better?" she asked, trying to avoid mockery in her tone and expression.
"Much," he replied, lying back, eyes closed, chest slowing its heaves from his exertion.
As soon as he had recovered his breath fully, he propped himself up on one elbow and faced her. Idly running a finger over the coutours of her voluptuous body, he said, "You know, you're really spectacular with your clothes off."
"Thank heavens you're not one of those kinks who wants to fuck me with my clothes on," she said, grinning.
"You know what I mean, Nancy. I saw right away that you had a terrific figure. It's just that, with no clothes on, you're somehow more, more ... more!"
"Is that why you couldn't help coming inside me? I don't have a bulb syringe with me, much less a douche bag. This is going to make for sloppy seconds, isn't it?"
"Not at all. Not that I'd mind, with you at least. Remember, I was saving technique for round two, right?"
Nancy watched, incredulous, as Ralph got on his hands and knees at the foot of the bed, spread her legs, pushed her thighs back toward her shoulders, and burrowed his head into her crotch.
"Ralph! What are you doing? That's so, so ... ummm." Nancy relaxed, the word "gross" which was about to cross her lips cancelled out by a warm streak of pleasure which shot through her body as his tongue ran its long, thick length into her, pressing hard on her clitoris as it went. Without the weight of his body pressing down on her, she was able to gyrate her pelvis freely, grinding her cunt into his face by rolling her hips from side to side.
Then, she did not even have to bother doing that, as Ralph grabbed the cheeks of her ass, one in each hand, and lifted up, adjusting her hips in quick, slight motions as his tongue explored every nook and cranny inside and his mouth chewed gently on the lips of her pussy until, satisfied that he had taken back the last of his load, he once more lay on the pillow facing her.
Nancy did not know which aroused her more, the sensations that shot through her as Ralph was doing his thing down there or the act itself. What she did know was that new feelings of erotic pleasure, unlike any she had known before, seemed to be awakening in her.
Her hand groped for his magic wand. With a faint shock of surprise, she found it fully erect, even though still wet and sticky from its recent, fast adventure.
"If you're ready, I'm ready," Nancy murmured.
"Well, there's ready and then there's ready," he replied. "Here. Let me show you."
He slid down a little on the bed, turned onto his stomach beside her, and took the nipple of the breast farthest from him into his mouth. Tonguing and sucking, gently at first, then harder, he forced the large, rosy nipple to erection while kneading the hefty breast beneath it, feeling it harden.
Directing his attention to the other breast, which he found in an almost identical state of arousal in sympathy with the first, while kneading the one he had just left, he soon had Nancy rolling from side to side, arching her back, and moaning with pleasure.
The cool, observant part of her, which still occupied a small corner of her mind, told her that he was in control, manipulating her, .playing her like some exotic musical instrument, but Nancy was content to let it happen for the moment.
The moment, in fact, seemed to be all that existed-the moment, the bed, and Ralph. She was so awash in ecstasy that it took a few seconds after Ralph was on top of her again to realize that he had actually reinserted himself. It took his dark eyes, gazing intently into her own half-closed orbs, to identify his exact position, engulfed as she was in the sensations he had succeeded in arousing in her.
But soon her mind focused, aware of the flow of the mounting pulses of pleasure from the focal point of her cunt where Ralph's tool was once again generating the waves of sensual delight her body now desired for their own sake, all schemes temporarily set aside to allow this heat to build to climax.
Ralph, for his part, now settled in for the long haul. His thrusts were as strong as ever, but this time they were measured, controlled, calculated to arouse a certain level of response, building slowly, carefully, climbing a stairway of mounting sensations in his partner's feelings, even pausing at certain plateaus of pleasure on the way to the height of Nancy's passion.
Now Ralph decided to vary his motion, moving his hips in wide, lazy circles, reaming Nancy's vagina with huge sweeps of his firm intruder, causing surges of sensual electricity to sweep through her. Round and round he went until Nancy locked her legs around him, forcing him to return to the pumping action.
Clamped onto him, Nancy now ground her crotch onto his rod, imprisoning it and him in her vise-like grip. Clamped together, their body heat combining to create a bond of perspiration between them, they rolled in the bed together from side to side.
On impulse, Nancy released him and got on her hands and knees.
Ralph needed no urging, but promptly took her from behind, shafting smoothly into her, grasping her hips and forcing her backward, burying himself in her to the hilt. Nancy rotated her hips in a circular motion as Ralph circulated his in the opposite direction, the sensation of this sending waves of fresh excitement and arousal through Nancy.
Suddenly, Nancy felt new and different impulses of pleasure being added to the ever-increasing stream of ecstasy that was mounting within her as Ralph wet his thumb with his tongue and stuck it into the perfect pink star of her ass hole. Nancy moaned with delight as it went in.
Thumb and cock now started rotating in opposite directions in ever-widening circles, each sensation generated in Nancy stronger than the last.
But now, she wanted Ralph not only inside her but in contact with her. She fell forward in the bed, slipping free of the long, glistening shaft within her, the thumb popping from her ass hole like a cork.
Nancy rolled over onto her back and spread her arms and legs to receive Ralph, who did not have to be asked twice, but immediately stuck his stiffly bobbing cock into her. Nancy sighed deeply as it entered, the muscles of her vulva clinching it in their warm, firm, smooth, slippery grasp.
Time to drive this baby on home, Ralph thought, bending to his efforts as he reestablished the motion of his thrusts. He began slow and steady, then gradually increased both strength and frequency, gauging his pumping to Nancy's little wordless cries of delight, sounds which surprised Nancy when she heard them and realized that they were actually coming from her, making her sound like an actress in a cheap porno flick, a realization which failed to silence her, so strange and intense were her feelings at the moment.
Ralph speeded up, but not enough to lose control, even slowing momentarily from time to time as he felt himself about to come or, judging by the sounds coming from Nancy, that she was in a similar state.
When this baby comes, he thought, I want it to be in multiples. I want to know that she's going to come again and again, like slow machine gun fire. And I want my shaft hard and pumping all the way when it happens, my ramrod in full control while she goes crazy with delight. Got to nail this relationship from day one.
Feed me, feed me, jam it to me, give me all you've got, Nancy thought, glad that only wordless moans were escaping her lips, even in the heat of the moment not wanting to say anything, to give away too much to this man who, after all, was only a part of a much grander scheme, although one of whose dimensions and shape she was as yet unsure, not that this was the moment to dwell on that.
Then, as though relinquishing all claims to a future that had no meaning or reality in the heat of the here and now, Nancy let her mind go completely blank, given over, abandoned to the sensations that she allowed to flood her very being, becoming a formless, nameless creature who lived and fed on the waves of ecstasy that began to fill her, their intensity mounting and the pressure of her erotic feelings along with them, merging, becoming a part of them until, with a feeling of both discharging and devouring, she climaxed, again and again and yet again, the last accompanied, she was vaguely aware, by thick, hot bursts of fluid from the monster imbedded within her, the second, more important head of the one on top of her.
"That was good," she said, as Ralph rolled off her and lay beside her. "Just good?" he asked.
"Good will do-for now," she replied, not caring to pay him the compliment he so obviously desired. Her composure instantly recovered, she decided that the sex was reward enough for him. If that wouldn't do, tough shit. He might not like it, but she knew that it would suffice very well. These dumb bastards are all alike, she thought. Twat is always the highest award, the ultimate goal-until they get into your pants. Then, not content with winning what she just knew they viewed as a contest, they required compliments by way of trophies. Fuck that, she thought. He was very good, though, and it would hardly pay to offend him at this point.
Nancy sat up in the bed, patted him on the thigh twice in quick succession, and said, "You were terrific, all right?"
Nancy got up and went into the shower, with its simple nozzle, old-fashioned handles, and bare, concrete floor. However, the water was hot and the pressure adequate.
"Hey, where's the soap, Ralph?"
"Geez, I'll skin that fuckin' Jimmy! At least he remembered the towels, though, ya gotta give him that much."
"He never heard of washcloths either, did he?"
Ralph joined her in the shower, anxious to know that she was taking the inconveniences with a good grace.
"Everything okay?" he asked, taking her in his arms and kissing her on the mouth.
"Just terrific," she said, smiling up at him, not wanting to piss him off but at the same time letting him know that she was tolerating something.
"Two towels," Ralph groaned. "What're we, rationed here?"
"And no mirror, either," Nancy added.
"Lemme write some of this stuff down when we get done. I'll get it all right."
They showered and dressed in silence.
She liked Ralph. And he was better in bed than Brad. But she doubted that she would see him outside the prison. But the guard captain could be useful in many ways. Yes, the boy definitely has possibilities, she thought, and I may have to use them all before I'm through here.
"I'll have Jimmy in here this afternoon to change the sheets and clean up," Ralph said.
Nancy, busy fixing her face in her purse mirror, did not answer him. Instead, she finished her makeup and closed the purse before saying, as though she had not heard him, "I'd like a meeting with the prison doctor. Can you arrange that or should I go through Warden Johnson?"
"I can arrange that. Or better still, you can just call him yourself."
"I'd prefer that you do it. I don't want to see him for myself. I want to see him about certain prisoners, or rather, a certain prisoner. And I want him to be aware that I have the full support and cooperation of the individual in charge of the physical control of the prisoners. Did anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you get that puzzled look?"
"Hey, whatever you want, just name it. You know that. Only I don't understand just what you-"
"Please. Set it up. And plan on being there yourself, okay?"
"Okay. This afternoon, all right?"
"Fine. And Ralph?"
"Yes?"
"Let's have a replay very, very soon."
As they left the room, Ralph, walking behind Nancy, gave little leap of exhilaration before closing the door behind them.
4
The prison doctor. "Nancy, this is Doctor Schtickler. Doc, Nancy Ritter. Nancy is with us as our representative to the Parole Board."
The doctor, slim, bald, with a pointed beard and neatly curled moustache, wearing steel-rimmed spectacles and a long, white lab coat, bowed tightly from the waist, shook her hand once, a smart, rapid up-and-down motion, and released it.
"Very pleased to meet you, Fraulein, pardon, Miss
Ritter."
"Please, just call me Nancy."
"And you may call me Hermann. Tell me, now. What can I do to you?"
Nancy smiled before asking, "Tell me, Hermann, when men make parole, do you examine them prior to their release?"
"No. This is not necessary. Parolees are still the responsibility of the Reich, I mean, the state. There are a number of facilities to which they have access, should they become ill."
"But if, after speaking with one of them prior to his hearing and release, I feel that an examination is in order, what then?"
"Ralph, it is you, not I, who must answer to this."
"I have the authority to order an examination," Ralph said.
"You see, Nancy, I merely follow orders," the doctor said, a faint smile peeping through.
"Is this where you would examine them?" she asked, looking around the doctor's office which, with its book cases, desk, and leather-upholstered furniture, could just as easily have been the office of a lawyer or a real estate broker.
"Ach, no, no," he laughed, advancing to a wall and pulling a cord, at which a curtain parted, revealing a window which occupied the wall from the ceiling to within one foot of the floor. On the other side was the examining room, its cabinets locked, examining table in the center, all bathed in white light.
"One way glass," the doctor explained. "It allows me a preliminary glimpse of the prisoner before I enter, thus making sure that the man in the room is the same as the one in the file and that he's not acting crazy."
He pointed to a filing cabinet in one corner which contained the prisoners' medical records.
"If something is wrong, what then?"
"I speak into the microphone here," he said, pointing to a tiny metal implant in the window she had not noticed before, "and tell him to go away. The guard outside the door takes him back to his cell and I call Ralph and tell him the problem."
"I see," Nancy said, thoughtfully. Both men stood waiting, expectant, before she continued. "Ralph, Ramon Bolero is up for parole tomorrow. I feel that he should be examined prior to release."
Ralph removed his cap and scratched his head.
"Gee, Nancy, I'm not sure-"
"Ralph, I'm sure you've got a lot to do and the doctor and I have a lot to discuss that I'm sure is of no interest to you. Please have Bolero here-or rather there-" she said, pointing to the examination room, "at, shall we say, three this afternoon?"
The doctor nodded.
"Three it is, then. If you'll excuse us now, Ralph."
"Yeah, sure. I wish I knew what was going on."
"Nothing that need concern you, Ralph. Later, okay?"
Ralph exited glumly from the office under the amused gaze of the doctor.
Nancy sat on a leather-covered couch and patted the seat for the doctor to join her.
He accepted the invitation, sitting on the edge of the couch, turning to face her.
"Now then, young lady, just what is the matter with this, this Bolero?"
"What happened to 'Nancy'? " she asked. "Nancy."
"That's better. But first, Hermann, tell me something: Do you believe that it is the natural order of the universe that some are designed to control others?"
"Absolutely! That has always been-never mind. The answer to your question is yes."
"But what if something went wrong and the wrong person somehow got the power?"
"That would be a crime against nature."
"Exactly. Bolero is slime. Yet, within his own little world, starting tomorrow, he will be in full control of himself. This is not right. In fact, it is, or soon will be, a crime, in every sensse of the word. We-you and I-have the opportunity to correct this crime. And we can begin with a little experiment."
"I love medical experiments!" the doctor exclaimed, with a look of almost childish enthusiasm.
"I thought so. I suspect that you were once a powerful man, Hermann, one who knew how to use his power in the service of the natural order."
The doctor, his face flushed, hands tightly clasped together, began to perspire.
"Ach, if only I could tell you of other times, other places."
"Doctor!" Nancy shouted sharply. "Get hold of yourself! You are here and this is now. If you will follow my lead, ask no questions, and do as I say, you can once again enjoy the power to which you are entitled in the natural order."
Face turning even redder, the doctor leaned back on the couch, crotch bulging.
"You excite me, Nancy! I love that kind of talk. Not in many years have I had such feelings as now. I could almost tell you-"
"Don't tell me, show me," she interrupted. "Better still, let me show you. Until three, then."
Nancy walked out of the office, the doctor remaining slumped on the couch, waving a limp-wristed, silent farewell as his other hand covered the lump of his crotch.
*****
"Ach, Nancy!" the doctor exclaimed as she entered his office. "So good to see you again! The hours seemed to drag since this morning."
"Never mind that," Nancy said crisply. "Help me pull this couch closer to the window."
She and the doctor struggled with the heavy couch until it faced the curtain covering the one-way glass. Satisfied, Nancy pulled the draw cord and the curtain parted, revealing the still empty examination room.
"Turn off the lights in here, please, Hermann. There. Just like a theater."
"Is the microphone on?" she asked.
"Just a moment," the doctor replied, reaching for a switch on the wall.
"Do you have to speak right into the microphone to be heard?"
"Nein-no-one has but to adjust the volume upward, thus," he said, turning the knob he had just clicked on. "It is not that efficient, however, and even with the volume up, I will have to speak very loudly to be heard from anywhere in this room except right next to the device."
"You mean I will," she corrected.
He looked at her, brows arched in surprise. "Of course," he said, after a long pause. "It's almost three. Let's just sit here and wait for the show to start."
They had barely seated themselves on the couch when the door to the examination room opened and Bolero came in.
He was much more handsome than his pictures, Nancy thought. Prison has certainly done nothing to damage his looks.
"Face the mirror, please," Nancy said loudly.
Ramon jumped at the sound of her voice, which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, but he merely looked up and around, trying to see where the sound was coming from.
"I said, face the mirror! I do not intend to tell you again. Your parole depends on your absolute cooperation and instant, total obedience."
"Instant, total obedience," the doctor echoed, his voice an awed whisper.
Bolero faced the glass, his expression sullen.
"My lawyer told me-" he began.
"Silence! Do not speak unless answering a direct question from me. Whatever your lawyer told you is meaningless, unless we can resolve this health question."
"What health-"
"I said silence! Or is it that you have no interest in getting out of here? If that is the case, you may simply return to your cell."
"All right, all right!" Ramon said. "What do you want me to do?"
"Remove your clothing."
"Excellent!" the doctor whispered, his voice too low to be picked up by the microphone. "Total, unquestioning obedience, total nudity ... delightful."
"That's a woman's voice," Ramon protested, while unbuttoning his gray prison shirt.
"I am merely the medical team leader. You will see to it that that is your last outburst, Mister Bolero. Quickly, please. We haven't got all day."
Ramon undressed with hesitant movements, at first. Then, as he got to his socks and underwear, he speeded up, apparently mastering his initial uneasiness.
Nancy saw with great interest that he was built exactly as she had imagined him in her fantasy the previous night.
Ramon stood erect, like a soldier at attention, the expression on his face somewhat haughty.
He certainly has nothing to be ashamed of, Nancy thought. Evidently, he's been lifting weights or doing something to keep himself in shape. And that dong. Even limber, it's just as I imagined it, right down to that big, beautiful knob.
"Our first concern is that your long stay in prison may have rendered you impotent. We must determine that you are able to achieve and maintain an erection."
Nancy ignored the doctor's snickering.
"You want me to get a hard-on right now?" Ramon asked, hands spread, incredulous.
Sighing loudly in mock exasperation, Nancy said, "Failure to achieve an erection will result in your being detained in the infirmary for several weeks of observation and medication and will only result in your coming back to this point in the release procedure."
"Okay, okay!" Ramon exclaimed, grasping his tool in his right hand and beginning to pump vigorously.
"Closer to the mirror, Mister Bolero. We must be able to observe your progress in full detail."
Not breaking his rhythm, Ramon shuffled closer to the glass, seeming to derive some inspiration from his own reflection. Nancy smiled grimly at his narcissism. The doctor also smiled, his face beginning to flush with the excitement of anticipation, wondering what was coming next from Nancy's fertile mind.
"All right, you seem to be getting it. Stop a moment. Release the organ. Give me a full side profile. I must confirm full tumescence prior to ejaculation."
"Say what?" Bolero asked.
"Never mind. Just stop what you're doing and turn sideways, hands at your sides."
Reluctantly, face flushed, Ramon gave them his profile. His dong stood out, a long, thick, ruddy flagpole.
"Stand closer to the glass," Nancy commanded. Ramon stood inches away from them, Nancy's gaze focused on the huge organ hobbling in front of her face.
"Let it cool down a little, then resume masturbation," Nancy said, then, as though to one or more colleagues, "Notice that detumescence is somewhat retarded but, on the whole, satisfactory." Then, to Ramon, "You may continue."
"Yes, yes, you may continue," the doctor whispered, his arousal seeming to keep pace with Ramon's under the titillation apparently afforded him by the spectacle.
"When you feel yourself about to achieve orgasm, capture the sperm with your free hand as it emerges. Don't lose any, as it must be available for inspection."
"Yes, yes," the doctor whispered. "Everything must be inspected."
"Yeah, yeah, come on baby," Ramon said, talking to his cock. "Make it happen. Do it, do it."
His muscles gleaming with a thin sheen of perspiration, Ramon bent to his work, pumping vigorously up and down on the thick baton, its head purple and round, fully engorged. Nancy and the doctor watched, fascinated, as the thick, white spurts of jism shot into his hand. Carefully, he gave a last stroke to drain the tube.
"Wunderbar!" the doctor exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. "Es war so geschma-"
"Shhh!" Nancy hissed. Then, aloud: "Very good. Hold it close to the glass so that we can see it-that's right. Okay. Color and volume satisfactory."
Ramon stood there for what seemed a very long time, his dong softening, his cupped palm an inch from the glass, with great difficulty managing to keep its sticky load from dropping onto the floor.
"Don't you dare let any of it drop on the floor," Nancy warned.
"Well, what should I-"
"Do with it?" Nancy completed. "Why, recycle it, of course."
"You mean, like."
"I mean, down the hatch."
"Aw, now wait a min-"
"Is something wrong? You have a communicable disease, perhaps? Very well. Don't do it. It will have to go for analysis, of course. Could take weeks. Meanwhile, we'll have to place you in quarantine."
"But there's nothing wrong with me!" Ramon moaned.
"Then there's no problem, is there? Quickly now, make up your mind. Is there or is there not a problem?"
Ramon stared down at the load in his palm, his gorge rising at the thought of it. He looked at it for a long moment, steeling himself for what was about to happen.
The doctor gasped and squirmed, but Nancy ignored him, her eyes glued to the scene before her. She followed the slow, resisting move of Ramon's hand as the palm ascended to his face. Suddenly, his head bobbed quickly and, with a resounding slurp, he swallowed his come.
The doctor clapped his hands and chuckled. "Interesting," he whispered. "Very, very interesting. And humiliating, too," he added, chuckling quietly at his own astute remark.
Ramon stood before the glass, shame-faced and ruddy with embarrassment and confusion. He tried to justify it in his own mind, telling himself that he must do whatever it takes to get out. But he knew that something was very, very wrong. This was not at all what he had gone through his first time around for parole.
As though reading his mind, Nancy said, "That wasn't so bad now, was it? You may answer the question. This is a new procedure and we value your opinion." That is, she thought, as much as we can value the opinion of a geek who just scarfed his own load.
Ramon asked, "What am I supposed to say to that? What do you want to hear?" His voice was tinged with self pity.
I just heard it, Nancy thought.
"All right, Mister-Bolero, is it? Yes, that's correct. I have the file right here. Let me see, the next step on the check list. Check list, check list, I have it here somewhere-ah, here we are. Rectal examination. In the interest of health, we are going to teach you how to conduct a rectal examination on yourself. You will do this once a month for as long as you are on parole, reporting the results to your parole officer.
"Under the examining table, you will find a small drawer containing a tube of lubricant. Do that now, please."
Ramon opened the drawer and found the tube. The drawer was otherwise empty.
"Very good. Now, coat the middle three fingers of your right hand with the lubricant."
"Three. Und no gloves," the doctor chuckled quietly.
"Can't I at least have a glo-"
"Silence! You have what is required. Now, back up close to the glass and bend over. No, no. Facing away from the glass, ass facing the glass." Much as I would dearly love to be able to see the expression on your face, she thought.
"That's right, just like a football center. Way, way over. That's it. Support yourself on your left hand. Hold it there. Tissue normal as to color, texture, and condition, anus large but not distended.
"Okay, Ramon, I want you to reach underneath with your right hand and insert the middle finger."
"Such cooperation," the doctor whispered, his tone faintly awed.
They watched as Ramon's right hand came around under his dangling balls and the middle finger shafted itself into his ass in a firm, smooth motion.
"There, now. That wasn't so bad, was it? Do you feel any lumps or irregularities, Ramon?"
"No," came the semi-strangled reply.
"Good. No, no. Stay just like that. Since you are not a medical expert, and in any case cannot see what you are doing, it is necessary to distend the anus to be sure that there are no small lumps in the lower bowel. Wave your finger around to expand the orifice."
"Wha-"
"You've got to stretch your ass hole," you ass hole, she added, to herself. "Like this?"
Nancy watched as the finger moved round and round. "Let's see. Only one way to tell. Put another finger in with the first."
Ramon groaned, but the second finger went in.
"Very good. Now, for good measure, wave those two around. Do a good job, because number three is coming up. No, no, don't straighten up. We don't want to have to start over again. That is, unless you're enjoying this. And even if you are, we really don't have the time. Okay, that ought to just about do it. Number three, please."
Ramon shrieked quietly between gritted teeth as he forced the third finger to join the other two.
"Okay, Ramon, really loosen yourself up on this one. We want to see that cave when you're done. Feel anything?"
"I'm okay, I'm okay," he gasped. "I'm getting very sore. Can I stop now?"
"Mmmmmm, better do it a little more, just to be certain. Sure you don't feel anything?"
"No, no, nothing."
"All right. Withdraw your hand, but hold the position." Nancy and the doctor viewed Ramon's stretched, irritated opening, entrance and walls glistening with lubricant.
"Very good. We can see well into the tunnel. We agree. Everything looks okay. You can straighten up now."
Ramon stood up and started for the sink. "Where are you going."
"I want to wash up."
"Sorry. That sink is shut off. You'll have to wait until you get back to your cell."
Nancy fell silent. Ramon just stood there naked, his right hand a sticky mess.
The doctor looked at Nancy expectantly. Nancy just shrugged, glanced casually at her watch, and then continued to sit, arms folded on her bosom, watching Ramon.
Ramon became more and more nervous, keeping his defiled hand away from the rest of himself as best he could, glancing around the room for the source of the now silent voice.
After five minutes, he shouted, "Hello, hello? Is there anybody out there?"
Nancy waited a long minute before replying, "We're here. Just completing some notes, that's all. You seem nervous. Are you in a hurry? After all, your hearing isn't until tomorrow."
"No, no, no hurry. I just-listen. Can I get dressed now?"
"Go right ahead. The guard will take you back to your cell when you're ready."
"Do you have a paper towel or something-"
"The examination is over. Get dressed and leave at once."
Nancy and the doctor watched as Ramon wiped his hand on the bottom of one leg of his prison garb.
When he had dressed and gone, Nancy turned to the doctor. He was seated in the darkness, the light from the examination room reflecting on his glasses.
"Never would I have thought it possible here," he said, his breath coming in deep gulps. "The control, the humiliation, the, the...."
"Easy, Hermann, easy," Nancy said. "We've got a lot of great adventures ahead of us."
"It boggles the mind!" he said.
And Ralph came into the examination room.
Hermann turned on the light switch and said, "Just give me a minute Ralph. Be right with you."
"Take your time. Is Nancy in there with you?"
"I'm right here, Ralph. What are you doing out there, anyway?"
"I just came in to see if everything was okay. Saw one of my guys taking Bolero back to his cell. You may be right about him, Nancy. He didn't look at all well to me when I passed him."
"There may be some psychological problems there,"
"Hell, I could have told you that," Ralph said, leaving the examining room and entering the office. "Hey, what gives here?"
"I decided to rearrange the furniture," the doctor said. "Makes for a more pleasant arrangement."
5
The parole board. "Bolero, Ramon. Conviction for rape with lesser included charge of assault with intent to commit bodily harm. Second conviction. Prior also rape, without the assault. Three years served, concurrent first term completed.
"Questions by board members?"
No one at the long table raised a hand and the president of the parole board did not even look around to check, as he droned on.
"Ramon Bolero, there being no questions by the board and no commentary, do you wish to make a voluntary statement to the board as additional information in favor of parole?"
"No, except to say that, if given this opportunity, I shall endeavor to prove worthy of the trust placed in me by this board and to conduct myself at all times as a model citizen."
Several members of the board snickered and the board president looked over the tops of his bifocals at Ramon.
"Would the secretary please make a note?" he sighed. "Tell Mr. Silverman that he is to stop coaching his clients to always say the same thing at these hearings.
"All right, next we hear from the prison liaison. Miss, ah, Miss Ritter, correct?"
"That is correct," Nancy said.
At the sound of her voice, Ramon became very uneasy and his brow wrinkled.
"The prison has no objection, subject to the proviso that Mr. Bolero be paroled into the custody of a corrections officer designated by the prison."
"Well, isn't that a bit unusual, Miss Ritter? First of all, a parolee is considered to be in the custody of the state itself, by definition, and second there is a roster of parole officers to whom parolees are assigned as cases."
"If you will refer to the appropriate section of the statutes covering the matter of parole, you will find that, in particular instances, a qualified corrections officer may be designated by the confining institution rather than the board, should either disciplinary or medical authorities incorporate such action as a condition of parole. And here," she said, handing the board president a sheet of paper, "is the appropriate form, signed, as you can see, by the prison physician, and countersigned by the warden."
"Never seen one of these before," the board president said. "Still, it seems in order."
He handed it to the board secretary.
"Make a note, if you will, Mrs. Smith, incorporating the document into the record and reassigning Mr. Bolero to whoever it says there."
"That would be Miss Ritter," Mrs. Smith said, matter-of-factly.
The board president's eyebrows shot up. Ramon's eyes grew wide. "I know that voice!" he said. "I know that voice!"
"Please, Mr. Bolero, you are out of order. Now, Miss Ritter, isn't this a bit irregular?"
"Unusual, yes. Irregular, no. You can check the regulations, but I am a qualified corrections officer and everything is proper."
"Very well. Let the record show the custody. I assume, Miss Ritter, that you are not going to make a habit of adopting all of our parolees."
"No sir," she said, smiling. "I have far too much work to do here for that. This is a special case."
Nancy looked at Ramon, a cold smile on her lips.
"I don't like this," Vie muttered, as a guard escorted him from the room.
"Odd fellow," the board president said. "But let us move on. The next case is...."
*****
"So you know exactly what to do, right? Good. No, no. Not a chance. I can predict exactly what he'll do and when. No, he's not violent unless there's resistance. No, I mean serious resistance ... listen, there's someone at the door. I'll call you later. 'Bye."
"Come in, please."
A guard escorted Ramon, in civilian clothes, into her office. He shuffled in as though he wore leg irons and handcuffs, even though he was ready for the street.
Nancy stood at the window, watching the prisoners file into the yard for morning exercise, her silhouette outlined by the daylight, so that all Ramon could see was her profile.
"Well, Ramon, looks like your buddies will have to exercise without you this morning. I do hope you'll stay in shape on the outside."
"Gonna join a gym," he mumbled. "Look, can I go now?"
"Ramon, Ramon, Ramon," she said, gently, crossing back to her desk. "Why are you so impatient? After all, this counts as your first monthly visit to your parole officer. Just think. You only have to visit me once a month. I have to go see you much more often than that."
His eyes grew wide. "How often?"
"As often as necessary. And that's all you need to know."
"You're the voice from the doctor's office," he said.
"No, you're mistaken. And what do you mean, 'voice'? "
"Forget it, then."
"Oh, that's right. You do have trouble with voices, don't you? Are you hearing any now?"
He gave her a sickly grin.
"Listen," he said. "That was just, like, a kind of, well, thing for my trial, you know?"
"A thing. I understand. Now you understand this: You are in my custody. That means that both of us are responsible for everything you do. If it's any comfort to you, I am also under the gun, right along with you. So don't give me any shit.
"Now. Where will you be staying, where will you be working, what are your hours? No, no. You need not reply. Just checking to see that I have it all here on the card. Yes. All in order. Yes, Mr. Silverman has made very complete arrangements for you. Hm. You're practically in the neighborhood, aren't you? Lucky. No car yet, right?"
"Right. I'll use public transportation for awhile."
"Yes, I see. And you have ample funds for your needs, I take it?"
"Didn't earn much working in the prison shop, but I didn't spend anything, either. Plus, I had some money going in. Never spent much on clothes or dates."
"Yes, you sought to impress women in other ways."
The old Ramon, the one she recognized from the trial transcripts, smiled at her, confident.
"You got that right," he said.
"Oh, I know I do."
"But of course, that's all behind me."
"Let's hope so, for both our benefit. Very well," she said abruptly, "since you start work at nine, you are to report to me here at eight on, let's see, the second Friday of every month. And of course, I'll be dropping in on you at home and at work from time to time.
"You are to proceed straight to your apartment and pick up your key, at which time the building super is to phone me confirming your arrival. After that, you are free until Monday morning, at which time your employer is to phone here confirming your arrival. Understood?"
"Yes. Goodbye?"
"Good luck," Nancy said, turning her attention to some papers as he left her office, bag in hand.
As soon as he left, Nancy picked up the phone.
"Janice? He's on the way. Yes. I'm sure he's going right there. Don't worry. As soon as the super phones me, I'll call you. That shouldn't take long. He's on foot, but it's only a few blocks. Right. 'Bye."
Janice. Her old college roomie. Always good for laughs, always ready for a romp in the hay with partners of either sex. And strong. She had gone in for the female bodybuilding thing when it became a fad on campus, developing herself to the point of androgyny, except for her breasts, which remained large and firm. She was built better than Brad, Janice reflected. Better arms, better legs, back muscles in ridges, abdominals well defined, and still with a pretty face and delicate skin. The times they used to have, the two of them together. But that's another story. Better keep the mind on the present, she told herself.
The phone rang. "Miss Ritter? This is the super the Amboy Arms. Your boy is here now. Wanna talk?"
"No, no. That's not necessary. But make sure that he understands the rules of your building. That's all for now. And thanks for calling," she added, grinning as she hung up.
Quickly, she punched numbers into the phone.
"Hello there. He's on his way up. Fine. And I'm on my way, too. What do you mean, 'Don't hurry'? You devil, you! See ya soon."
*****
Ramon climbed the flights of concrete stairs, arriving slightly winded at the fifth floor. He glanced from side to side as he went down the dimly lit corridor. Just before he got to his own door, he noticed the one before it, on the same side standing ajar, about halfway open.
He saw movement in the room and paused in mid-stride. Ramon gasped as he saw a woman bent over, making a bed.
Clad only in a clinging negligee so short that her buttocks were completely exposed, her snatch visible where her widely parted legs joined, she was bouncing her hips from side to side, humming to herself as she smoothed the sheets.
Ramon felt the blood rush to his face as he dropped his bag. The heat seemed to spread from his head into his entire body, filling his prick with the pressure of sudden arousal. His mind in turmoil, he stood there, unable to move as the ass and pussy before him continued to bump and grind.
She must want it, he told himself. She's signaling, sending me a message. It's fate. Who can resist fate? Still, I mustn't. Yes, but-wait! He heard it.
No bullshit, he heard it. A voice! Was he really cracking up? No, it was there!
"If you think I'm sex-ee, an' you want ma bah-dee, lalideedadee dah-dee ... " Janice sang softly, moving with the rhythm.
Quickly, Ramon unzipped his fly. His huge prong sprung stiffly free at a high angle. He advanced quickly into the room, slamming the door as he entered, grabbed the woman by the hips, and shoved her onto the bed.
"What, what, what's-"
"Silence, bitch!" Ramon snarled in a fierce whisper as he flipped her onto her back, covering her mouth with one hand while, with the other, he roughly inserted his rampant invader into her cunt.
"Don't scream or I'll kill you!" Ramon threatened. "You know you want it, baby, and I'm giving you the best! Now relax and enjoy it."
His hips thrust at her in strong, rapid strokes. He released her mouth, hooking both hands beneath her armpits and clamping them onto her shoulders, pinning her fast, as he drilled into her, rolling his hips as he banged away, the cheap bed creaking and bouncing under the strain.
Ramon kept his eyes shut. He did not so much as glance at her face, even though his own ruddy visage was inches from her nose, his hot breath exhaling onto her in great, steamy gusts, its sound that of an old time locomotive.
"So long," he grunted, "so very long since the last time! So much lost time to make up! Yeah, baby, yeah! You never had it so good and now it's here, it's real, it's what's happening. To you, to me, to us!"
Ramon slowed himself down every time he was about to come, stretching it out, making it last. He freed a hand in order to rip down the top of the negligee, exposing her breasts. He grabbed one, placing it in his mouth, sucking greedily on the generous nipple.
"What a pair you got, babe," he whispered, after he had paid full oral attention to both jugs.
"Let's go from behind," he said, climbing off her, rolling her onto her stomach, and raising her hips until she was on elbows and knees.
"There, there!" he exclaimed, as he shafted into her from behind, grabbed the cheeks of her ass, and began slamming her toward him in time with his powerful thrusts.
"Ride you forever!" he shouted, losing himself in the pounding motion of his hips, the moist, warm pressure on his cock sending waves of pleasure, each reinforcing the last, pulsing through his body.
His thumb found the generous, pink, puckered opening of her ass and slipped in easily. He rolled it around in time to his ever-quickening lunges.
"I gotta do this," he said, pulling the gigantic, ruddy pole, dripping with pussy juice, from her cunt.
She groaned as his monster's engorged head shafted suddenly into her rectum, its pressure filling her.
"Yeah, baby, nothin' like a little ass fucking to really get the party started!"
He was lost in a world of his own, eyes closed, body set on automatic, pounding thrust, hands resting lightly on the big thighs before him.
His head no longer formed images or ideas, its contents a writhing miasma of shifting colors, each representing a sensation of ecstasy, all blending together, reinforcing each other, strengthening each other, and growing, growing, growing, filling the universe, then stretching it, expanding it with pure feelings of sensual delight.
And then, all control and all thought of control lost, he came. He came and came, the hot, thick, flooding surges shooting into her, filling her.
Spurt after spurt it pumped into her ass hole until finally, totally spent, weak and dizzy, Ramon fell backwards and to one side, lying full length beside her. Side by side, they faced each other, Ramon fully clothed, his dick beginning to soften, the girl wearing the shreds of what was once a negligee, now concealing nothing, her body covered with a sheen of sweat, the insides of her thighs slick with her own juices and spent jism.
Idly, a lover in the aftermath of passionate embrace, Ramon began to trace the contours of her body with a finger. His brow furrowed as he ran the wandering digit over a massive bicep, then encountered a bulging, defined shoulder.
She was propped up on one elbow, gaze expressionless, lips upturned into a faint smile.
Puzzled, he returned her stare, his finger now encountering her column of a neck, then the deep separation of her pectorals. He felt the rock-hard separations of her abdomen and his eyes went wide.
"Help. Help. Help," she stated flatly three times, her tone quietly conversational.
"Oh, shit," Ramon wailed as she got off the bed and struck a full biceps pose.
He attempted to rise but she pushed him back down. "You move before I tell you and I may have to hurt you," she said.
"Okay, okay! What gives here, anyway?"
"It looks like a clear-cut case of rape to me," a voice from the doorway said. "Ramon, Ramon, Ramon," Nancy sighed, "whatever are we going to do with you?"
"You! What are you doing here?"
"I just came to see that you got settled in all right and I heard noises coming from this room. Are you all right, Ma'am?"
"This man just raped me."
"So I see."
"No, no, no! That's not the way it was!" Ramon exclaimed, starting to rise, then looking fearfully at Janice before daring to sit up.
"But Ramon," Nancy said quietly, seating herself on the edge of the bed beside him and placing an arm around his slumped shoulders, "that's exactly the way it was. Don't you see, Ramon? Two witnesses, one the victim, your sperm still warm inside her body."
"In a very bad place, too," Janice added, stuffing a corner of the bed sheet into the crack of her ass.
"Tisk, tisk, Ramon," Nancy said, reprovingly. "All this and sodomy too? Shame, you naughty boy!"
"I want my lawyer," Ramon said, voice and expression sullen.
"There's the phone," Nancy said, pointing to the nightstand. "Go right ahead."
Ramon started to reach for the phone, looked at Nancy, and changed his mind.
"Can't," he said, looking at the floor.
"You bet your ass you can't, Ramon! Just what the hell do you think a lawyer could do for you now?"
"I'm dead," he said, simply.
"Looks like it, Ramon," Nancy agreed. "And you haven't made me look all that good, either. Or the prison. After all, we're on record that there was a problem with you and you got paroled anyway."
"Hey, that's right!" Ramon said, brightening.
"Calm down, Ramon," Nancy said. "You get life and I get a slap on the wrist. I'm game if you are."
"That's right, too," Ramon said, slumping again.
"But I really don't need a slap on the wrist right now, so you sit tight and I'll talk to the lady here to see what can be done. Don't you move."
Nancy and Janice conferred in whispers in a corner.
"Good news, Ramon. If you'll give her a couple hundred to blow this hovel and move out, she'll suspend judgment on the whole thing."
"Fine," Ramon said, a sneaky grin of relief spreading across his face. He reached for his wallet and put the money on the bed. "There. See ya."
"Not so fast, Ramon. We-this lady and I-are very concerned that you should have slipped so fast. We have an interest in seeing to it that you receive closer guidance. So judgment is merely suspended. You're not off the hook, by any means."
"Oh no? Once I leave here, who knows from what?" Nancy took a small camera out of her purse. "Did I forget to mention the pictures?" she asked.
"Yeah," Ramon said glumly, "ya forgot. Now what?"
"Why Ramon, you weren't listening. I said you needed guidance. We are going to perform our civic duty by providing it. Now I think that we should go to your room and get started."
*****
"I tell ya, my jaw muscles can't move any more!"
"You keep going until I tell you to stop. Can't you see she's about to have an orgasm?" Nancy asked.
The three of them were in bed, naked. Janice lay beside Nancy, her head resting on Nancy's left breast. Janice was sweating. Her eyes were closed. Her knees were raised, her feet resting on the top of Ramon's head as he burrowed into her crotch.
"Oh, oh, oooh," she moaned as his tongue busily massaged her clitoris while his jaws worked through their cramps to chew her lower lips.
Suddenly, she seized Ramon's head, each hand full of his hair. She thrust her hips forward and ground his face into her crotch with powerful scrubbing movements, thighs clamped around his ears.
This was his third time around with her and this was the part he feared most. She could break his nose, snap his neck, or even smother him in her strength and her enthusiasm. He had lost all track of time, alternating between her and Nancy, eating them to climax, Nancy once, Janice to multiple orgasms each time.
This was a strange new world to him, being forced to eat them again and again. He had been aroused and attempted to relieve himself by fucking them, but he was gently repulsed each time he tried it. Eventually, he managed to find a solution, rubbing his erection up and down on the sheets with his stomach as he ate them, hoping they wouldn't notice, secretly delighted that he had manged to put one over on them when he came, surprising himself with his new-found talent.
But now, he was tired, his jaws ached, his cock was sore from the friction, and these bitches couldn't seem to get enough. Tongue, that is.
Janice's orgasmic fireworks went off, washing Ramon's face with a fresh load of pussy juice.
"Very good, Ramon," Nancy observed clinically. "And I think that will do for today. We could all do with a shower. Ramon, will you accompany us?"
Glad to be put on an equal footing at last, Ramon trekked to the bathroom with them. They climbed into the tub, Ramon in the middle.
"Let's keep things in their proper perspective here. Ramon, sit down, please."
Puzzled, Ramon sat, the two women towering above him, their pussies staring him in the face.
"Now?" Janice asked.
"Now." Nancy confirmed.
"No!" Ramon shouted, but it was too late.
He barely managed to close his eyes and mouth as the hot, yellow streams jetted thickly onto his head and face for what seemed an eternity. In fact, he was uncertain as to when the gushing of the bodies stopped and the shower from the nozzle began.
Janice and Nancy finished their showers and dried off, leaving Ramon with damp, used towels. They were dressed and gone by the time he was out of the bathroom. Exhausted, he let himself fall into the soiled bed. His last thought, before falling asleep, was to hope that this was a sexual nightmare from which he would awaken, even if he should find himself once more in a prison cell.
6
The warden's office. "Been mighty busy for a newcomer, ain'tcha, little lady?" the warden asked. "And what the hell's this all about, anyhow? I mean that little penthouse you got yerself in solitary, the paper I signed for that white-coated nazi, and all the resta the shit you bin pullin' hereabouts?"
"I meant to get back to you sooner, Warden Johnson, but I've been busy."
"Yeah, well, I know the feelin', far as that goes.
Still wanna know what in tarnation's goin' on."
"Tell me something, Warden: What do you really want to see happen around here?"
"That's a mighty broad subject, young lady. An' I doubt very much that you're qualified to discuss it."
"Well, let's see about that. You don't tell me, I'll tell you and you see if I get it right. Here goes: Warden Johnson would like to be able to reach retirement without the roof falling in."
Johnson chuckled. "You a mighty smart young'un, Nancy. You got the objective down pat. Hell, that's easy. What ain't so all-fired simple is makin' it happen. One more black mark on my record an' I just may not get to retire as warden. They may bury me at a lower level in the system an' retire me from there on a pension wouldn't keep a bird alive."
"And that black mark is just about to happen, right?"
"Law of averages says any day now. Between racial tensions, repeat offenders, overcrowding, and budget constraints, there's just no way I'll go three more years without incident, an' the review board's just awaitin' ta pounce."
"If you could eliminate repeat offenders, you'd kill two birds with one stone, right? Overcrowding and the presence of the repeaters themselves."
"Yeah, right. Sounds easy when ya say it."
"That leaves racial and budget problems."
"Ya got a relationship there too, Nancy. Property destruction arises from racial tensions in here, an' that's what runs ya yer big tab."
"Tell you what, Warden: You don't ask any questions about what I do around here or why I do it, and I'll see to it that you retire as warden."
The warden looked at her, incredulous.
"Even if you could do what you say, what're you gonna get outta all this?"
"Your job in three years."
"Whoa, there! Just a cotton pickin' minute. First of all, you can't guarantee that you're gonna really be able to do what you say, and second, even if you could, cain't nobody guarantee you this job."
"You just let me worry about part two. Are you willing to sit back and let part one happen?"
The warden chuckled, shaking his head. "What the hell," he said. "Why not? Got nuthin' ta lose, way things're goin', that's fer sure. Okay, little lady, mi casa su casa. An' this time, I mean it. Good luck to the both of us."
As the warden left her office, Nancy called Ralph. "What's happening?" he asked.
"Missed you over the weekend," she replied.
"Then I guess we better make up for it real soon," he chuckled. Then, his voice growing serious, he said, "To tell you the truth, I was going to call you over the weekend, but there was some trouble here. Come to think of it, I guess I'd better keep my nose to the grindstone for a couple of days."
"Ralph, who's the leader of the black prisoners?"
"That's easy. Clarence Washington. Real bad actor. Lifer with no chance of parole. Killed five people over a woman."
"Jealousy?"
"No. Just the opposite, in fact. Clarence was willing to share, but the lady's husband had a problem with that. He and four others went after Clarence. Clarence knew they were coming. The woman got the message to him. Clarence set a trap. Got 'em all from ambush with an Uzi he shouldn't have had. Jury took a dim view of the whole thing. Only the woman's testimony kept him out of the chair. She swore that if he hadn't gotten them, it would have gone the other way. So, he got life. Judge ruled that there's no such thing as preemptive self defense and besides he used an automatic weapon."
"Can you have him report to my-our-interview room at two this afternoon?"
"You got it. Care to tell me anything?"
"Only that I think I can solve a few problems for you.
"I know one you could definitely take care of."
"Later, when we both have the time."
*****
"Nice place. I never knowed this was here."
"It's new. Won't you sit down?"
Clarence accepted her invitation. She looked at him, noting that he had to be about the largest man she had ever personally known. He wasn't fat at all, but bunches of muscle, one piled atop the other, his shaved, bullet head emphasizing his brutal strength.
Perched on the edge of an upholstered armchair, he looked around, then down at himself, grinning at the discordant note of his gray prison clothes in this strangely luxurious room, in the presence of this beautiful woman.
"I understand that you're the leader of the black prisoners."
"We all jus' convicts, ma'am."
"Bullshit! You're the man, and you know it."
Clarence shrugged. "Bes' as ah can be, I s'pose y'all could say that. Jus' tryna keep the peace, thass all. Damn! You one fine lookin' white woman, you know that?"
"We'll get to that in a minute."
Now it was Clarence's turn to look at her, puzzled, as so many had done in recent days.
"Meanin' 'zackly what?" he asked.
"In a minute, I said. Now tell me, Clarence: Do you really think you're doing as much as you can to keep the peace around here? I understand there was trouble over the weekend."
"Ah does as much as ah cares to. Bein' here ain't mah idee an' I ain't no fuckin' po-leece. So I lets the brothers have their fun ever' now an' agin."
"But with the right inspiration, you could do a little more, right?"
He grinned. "With the right in-spy-ray-shin," he said, "you wouldn't need no guards ta keep the brothers in lahn. That is, less'n whitey gets playful."
"I see," Nancy said. "I thought as much. And just what would you consider the 'right inspiration'? "
His grin grew even wider.
"How about this?" Nancy asked, rising and proceeding to methodically strip herself naked.
"There!" she said, when she had finished. "Is that inspiration enough for you?"
Excited as he was, Clarence managed to sit back in his chair and cross his legs.
"Depends. How much, how often, fo' how long, an' what branda fun's allowed."
"As much, as often, as long, and whatever you desire, subject to operational considerations. And we've both got nothing but time, over the long haul."
"Deal!" he said, rising and beginning to strip with deft efficiency. "Deal, even if they hasta be a body count, anybody mess this up on me."
He stood naked before her, a gigantic, Herculean statue of dully gleaming bronze, only the monstrous erection, its huge, rounded, throbbing head detracting from his heavyweight, classical lines.
He stood still a moment, allowing the reality of the luscious breasts, the generous hips, the flat stomach, the long legs, and the beautiful face to sink into his consciousness, to realize that this was not a dream, not one of the many dreams he had over the months and years since he had gone to prison over just such a one as this.
Then, he took her in his arms, one hand around her waist, the other fondling a large breast. His face buried in her hair, he murmured, "Don' you worry. Ain' nobody gon' fuck this up, me leas' of all."
Nancy spun gently away from him and pulled the draw cord, revealing the odd bed and bathroom combination.
"If ah finds out ah'm dreamin', ah'm gonna wake up screamin'! " he gasped.
Nancy climbed onto the bed, lay on her back, and spread her legs wide, raising them into the air.
"Let's get the edge off," she said.
"Ah heard that!" he cried, mounting the bed and quickly shafting his bulky baton into her hot, slippery twat. She was genuinely excited by this bull of a man, quite willing to let him use her to his heart's content, the very real pleasure of sex with him an added bonus in her plans. Yes, she thought, it's really a shame that things can't work out for him as he thinks they are at this moment. But the mission comes first.
Clarence pumped away, using neither technique nor restraint, greedily devouring the moment, so long dreamed of, so desired, and until now realized only in the fantasy world of his nightly masturbation, illusions which shattered as he shot his jism into the darkness in a powerful arc, only to hear it faintly splatter on the concrete deck beside his bunk, there to grow cold and evaporate, just like the images in his frustrated, fevered mind.
Even as his body pumped away, the sheen of sexual sweat polishing him to metallic perfection, his mind strained to suck every last sensation from the unbelievable happening. Oh!, he thought, staring at the flawless beauty of Nancy's face, flushed with the heat of her excitement, eyelids fluttering her long lashes, I was tempted, tempted more than I like to admit, by the imagine boys. But I resisted, knowing, just knowing all along that it must not, could not end like that, that somehow what I lost would come back to me. I kept the faith, even when I felt like a fool for doing it, even when there was no reason for doing it. And now, this!
On and on he plunged, doing his best to lose himself in Nancy, to join with her, to make of them a single being. Now he wrapped his powerful arms around her and rolled from side to side like a rowboat in a stormy sea, panting in unison to her little cries of delight as his magic wand filled her insides with the pressure of his hugeness, his heat.
Neither of them could say how much time passed this way, lost as they were in a world of their own, before the first faint, involuntary beats of the inevitable made themselves felt. Nancy's drooling pussy seemed to develop a sucking motion as she received charge after charge of thick, hot sperm in response to the strong, jerking convulsions of his throbbing tool, her multiple orgasms keeping pace with his climax.
They lay there, glued together in sweating embrace, his softening organ still huge inside her, his bulky arms enfolding her, his hot, heavy body keeping her from chilling as the rivulets of perspiration dried.
After five minutes of this, Clarence got up, his cock sliding smoothly out of her as he slowly withdrew it.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Gots to take me a shower and git on back to the shop right quick. Somethin' 'bout to go down ah jes' don' need right now."
"I see," Nancy said, thinking that things were much closer to the boiling point than the warden thought.
She watched his powerful body move under the spray as he scrubbed himself vigorously, his long dong swaying back and forth. Yes, she thought, it's a shame that I won't be able to develop this relationship to its full potential. On one level, that is. On the other, she told herself, a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do.
Clarence dried himself and dressed hurriedly, giving her a quick peck on the lips before scurrying out, looking for all the world like a husband who was late for work.
Nancy took her shower, glad that she had remembered to bring along a bulb syringe today. There were some things she could not expect the Bureau of Prisons to supply.
Rubbing her hair with her towel with one hand, with the other she punched up the phone.
"Ralph? Have Jimmy get down here with a complete change of linens and towels, a bucket and a mop. In about fifteen minutes. No, there's no problem. Everything is fine. Later, darling. I promise to tell all. Now, suppose you tell me: Who is the leader of the white prisoners? Jack Roberts. And his story? I see. Yes. Yes. Got it. No. Okay, it's Jimmy in fifteen and then give me Roberts in an hour. Yes. Me too. Kiss, kiss."
Fixing her hair and make-up as best she could in the mirror from her purse, Nancy thought, Looks like I'll have to go for a mirror over the sink myself. Come to think of it, I may have to add a few more of the comforts of home on my own. Especially since, if things go right, the actual administration of this place will be done from here.
Returning briefly to her office, Nancy saw that there were no messages and that the next parole hoard meeting was not until next week. Good, she thought. It will take me that long to do what has to be done.
She returned to the interview room, noting with satisfaction that Jimmy had done his work quickly and well. Nancy sat on the sofa, head back, eyes closed.
But now, there was Roberts to contend with. Better make that 'Jack', she told herself. This will be a little more difficult than Clarence. Because if Clarence was here due to pleasure grown complicated, Jack was here because of business become simple.
Roberts was a professional killer. In response to requests from any of a number of underworld figures, Jack was, until his arrest for professional reasons, available to perform his services on such of their associates as had fallen into disfavor, thereby simplifying whatever problems had become too complicated to handle in any other fashion. He owed his multiple life sentences, as opposed to the death penalty, to a prejudice on the part of the jury concerning the character of his victims, the pleas of the prosecution notwithstanding.
If Clarence owed his accession to power over his fellow prisoners to his physical strength, Jack got his through stealth and organizational ability. For while Clarence had a number of easily identifiable lieutenants, Jack's associates in enforcement were anonymous, until it was too late and the offending prisoner discovered the identity of one of Jack's helpers the hard way, usually paying the supreme price for such knowledge. Indeed, it was said that Jack was the only prisoner whose business activity had increased since his imprisonment.
"What can I do for you, Miss Ritter?"
Startled, Nancy, who had been in a state of thoughtful reverie, reclining on the couch, opened her eyes suddenly and sat up. She had absolutely not heard a sound as he entered the room.
Jack Roberts was virtually nondescript. Average height, complexion, and build, hair unable to decide between brown and blonde, features regular and neither handsome nor ugly, he seemed totally forgettable.
"Sit down, please, Jack. I have a job for you."
Nancy thought she detected a faint trace of interest on his face, which quickly faded into his mask of non-expression.
"Jack, I want you to use your influence to see to it that all provocative activity, all property destruction, and all violence, spontaneous or otherwise, stops here at the Castle."
"What happened? Cap'n Carp get canned?"
Nancy smiled. "I'd like you and I to work together to make his job unnecessary."
"As opposed to undo-able," Jack said.
"Exactly."
"What's in it for me?"
"Do you remember how you were caught, Jack?"
"Not likely I'd forget a thing like that."
"Perhaps I should have said 'why'. To review: The police informant knew you were going to fulfill a contract on a certain night. He had no idea who the target was. He did, however know of your habit of having sex immediately after you do your thing. Therefore, they staked out three of your girlfriends, again based on his information. Sure enough, you showed up at one of them. They watched and waited. You made it an all-nighter and the police report came in on your handiwork while you were still in the sack. They grabbed you as you were leaving, backtracked, and made the case. With you nailed, everybody turned brave and your career went public."
"My last piece of ass," Jack muttered. "Until now," Nancy said, quietly. "What?"
"You heard me, Jack. Just as I heard you when you asked what was in it for you. I know, you get nothing for nothing in this world. And I've got my own reasons for wanting it suddenly all peace and quiet around here. I need you to make it happen. Since you've got no shot at getting out, I've got to make it worth your while in here. Did I guess right? Will that do it for you?"
Jack grinned, folding his arms across his chest, face reddening, looking up at the ceiling, down at the floor, everywhere but at Nancy. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
"Since the day I got here," he said, at last, "that was the one thing I couldn't figure out how to accomplish. Me, the guy who could do anything, couldn't promote a piece of ass. No way. And now this. What can I say? Ya got me."
"And, of course, you've got me," Nancy said.
Suiting action to her words, Nancy stood up and stripped for the second time that afternoon, the effect on Jack identical to Clarence's reaction earlier, except that there was no reflection, no hesitation, as Jack, face flushed with desire, peeled himself naked with deft movements, no motion wasted.
"My!" Nancy exclaimed, visibly impressed. "What a shame to let something like that go to waste."
If the rest of Jack was indescribably ordinary, his cock was an endowment beyond anything in Nancy's experience, looking as though it belonged to someone built on a much larger scale. Reaching out from him well over a foot at a high angle, the big balls pendulous below, was a smooth, thick, pink baton, its bulbous head looking at her with its evil, red eye.
"Voila!" Nancy shouted, pulling the draw cord to reveal her inner sanctum, meticulously redone by Jimmy a scant half hour before.
"Terrific," Jack said quietly, closing on Nancy, covering her with his body as she climbed onto the bed. He held her tightly, covering the back of her neck with kisses, then her cheek. Looking out of one eye, she could see that his eyes were closed.
He kept his eyes shut, even as he rolled her over onto her back. Nancy raised her legs, spread them, and waited for the invasion of the monster. She gasped in faint surprise as Jack's head plunged between her thighs and his hot tongue pierced her labia, seeking, finding, making love to her clitoris.
She had to admit that he was Very talented, astonishing in one so well hung. Her pussy was drooling freely when he stopped and got on with the main event.
For all his size, she took him easily, no doubt due to his earlier attentions, whose reason became clear to her. He could probably do plenty of damage with that pile driver if the girl wasn't ready for it.
Her tissues stretched tight, her clit and walls in intimate contact with his gigantic dong, both of them were able to derive maximum sensation from minimum movement. The slightest thrust, the faintest gyration, was enough to sent electric zaps of sensual pleasure radiating from their juncture to the farthest reaches of their bodies. Nancy's juices joined with Jack's saliva to create the perfect lubrication, adding smoothness of motion to their perfect fit.
Loosened still further by their movement and by her excitement, Nancy's hot pussy eagerly grasped the huge tool, creating a sucking motion with each of Jack's ever-lengthening strokes.
And now, his face red, eyes closed, brow furrowed with concentration, Jack thrust rapidly in and out in the longest cock strokes Nancy had ever felt, sending her into ecstasy with each lunge in and each partial withdrawal, their temperatures and internal pressure seeming to rise, seeking, then demanding release.
Suddenly, Jack redoubled his efforts. Now his hips were thrusting with vibrator speed, the pulses of sensation melting together into one long hum of sexual delight, becoming louder and louder, its increasing intensity a mirror of the acceleration of their fucking until, with a surge of sensual electricity that almost caused them to lose consciousness, they came together, Nancy's strong, gushing, multiple orgasms keeping perfect time with the thick, hot spurts of Jack's climax as he shot into her, again and again, his body caught in a shuddering reflex of pure, blind urge.
It was only when they came back down to earth, rolling apart, the sweat drying on their bodies as they lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, that Jack regained control of himself, that he was able to bring his cold, analytical mind into play.
"This goes on as long as I control my troops, right?"
"Sounds rather military, Jack, but yes, I think you have the idea."
"Only one thing wrong. I don't have all the troops. There's a whole other army in the field."
"You mean Clarence and his brethren."
"Right. So I have to believe Clarence has the same deal. Am I right?"
"Sort of."
"What the hell does 'sort of mean?"
Nancy rolled onto her side, facing him, propping her head up with one hand.
"I tell you what: Why don't we just hold that question until tomorrow, since Clarence has probably had sufficient time to come up with that same question."
"Tomorrow? What's so special about waiting until tomorrow?"
"Because, darling, that is when we-you, Clarence, and I-hold the peace conference."
7
The warden objected. "I know what we agreed to, Nancy. But you're askin' for somethin' goes agin prison policy. You're askin' fer trouble, in plain words. Fact is, if you'da stayed awake nights thinkin' up this one, you could not'a come up with a more explosive situation."
"Not to quote you the rule, of which I'm sure you're aware, Warden, but 'prisoners may be reassigned billets at the discretion of the warden'. "
"Right. Key word there is 'discretion'. An' I would not be usin' very good discretion if I was ta put Jack an' Clarence in the same cell. If I was ta do that, one'd kill the other 'fore sunrise and then we got us a full-scale riot."
"Not if they requested it," Nancy said.
Warden Johnson began laughing. His guffaws grew louder and louder, their violence almost causing him to go over backwards in his swivel chair. He caught himself just in time and rocked forward, his face almost purple. He took out a handkerchief, removed his spectacles, and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. Nancy sat facing him, expressionless.
"Lordy, you do paint a funny picture, Nancy! Why, it's all I can do to get 'em to sit down in the same room ta see if I cain't keep the lid on this place when one or t'other starts some kinda shit. An' then I got to have me a half dozen of Ralph's boys present plus the threat of solitary, keep 'em from each others' throats. Clarence acts like King Kong after the capture an' 'at fuckin' Jack is one nasty sumbitch too, 'case you hadn't noticed.
"Lookit cheer," he said, struggling from his chair and going to the window, pointing to the prisoners in the yard below. "See 'em down there? Whites all clustered together, blacks together, an' the two of them, Jack and Clarence, holdin' court like a couple goddam kings. An' these are the boys you wanna be bunkies?
"Tell ya what I'm gonna do: You get the two of 'em to formally request 'at arrangement an' I'll approve it. On a more important subject, 'cause that ain't never gonna happen, let's go ta lunch."
*****
"What say, Jack?" Clarence asked, coldly.
"Clarence," Jack said, nodding and taking a seat next to him, then looking at Nancy who sat opposite them, alone on the couch.
They were in the interview room, to which Clarence had been escorted ten minutes prior to Jack. He and Nancy had sat almost in silence until Jack arrived, abandoning his guard in the corridor, leaving him there to ponder the strange goings on with the one who had accompanied Clarence.
And now the three of them sat there, saying nothing. "Yes," Nancy said, at last.
"Yes what?" Jack asked.
"Yes, I did have sex with both of you. Exactly once."
Jack frowned.
"Little white pussy, huh Clarence? How was it?"
Clarence grinned. "Same as the white pussy got me in here. When you white boys gonna learn ta hannel yo' wimmin? An' don't be tryna pull nona that karate shit on me, neither. Break yo' white ass befo' y'all kin move."
"I'm not so sure about that," Jack said, starting to rise.
"Well le's check it aout," Clarence said, also pushing himself forward.
"Knock it off, the both of you," Nancy warned. "Or what?" Jack asked. "Or you're both dead."
"Don't believe ah cares fo' no threats, bitch. You was good, but ah managed without none fo' a few years now an' it din't kill me," Clarence said, voice sullen, eyes on Jack.
"Neither of you seems to understand. I mean it quite literally. I'm not talking about breaking your hearts; I'm talking about stopping them completely."
Both men sat down, sardonic grins of disbelief on their faces, shared humor rather than fear dissipating their ritual anger.
"And just how would you accomplish that?" Jack asked.
"Easy. I just get the word out to the population that you two are getting laid in here. You and most of your loyal constituents would kill for a piece of ass. You both know that. Now, given the level of frustration and the mental composition of most of the animals in this zoo, just what do you think the reaction will be when they find out that their dreams are your realities which they can't share?"
The grins faded from their faces as they realized the spot they were in.
Nancy beamed her most radiant smile at both of them, saying, "But enough silly talk of unpleasant things that none of us wants to provoke. On to more pleasant subjects. You two are about to become best buddies, did you know that?"
Clarence and Jack looked at each other. Both shrugged together.
"You see, the three of us are about to take over this place. We're going to run it, from top to bottom. And soon, very soon, I'll be the warden. And don't look so surprised. How need not concern you. Indeed, you two will have enough other concerns very shortly.
"You're going to share the power, you're going to share a cell, and," Nancy paused long enough to stand up and begin disrobing, "you're going to share me."
Jack started, "You-", and stopped. Both men knew exactly what she meant.
"I nevah had me no gang bang befo'", Clarence said.
"Me neither," Jack admitted.
"Another first at the Castle," Nancy said, continuing to remove her clothes. "Well come on! Are you two just going to sit there? Let's party!"
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the two men stripped. They stood looking at each other, somewhat embarrassed.
Then, pointing to Jack's dangling dong, Clarence said, "I sees y'all nevah had no toys when you was a keed neithah."
"Not exactly a slouch in that department yourself, Clarence," Jack said. Both men grinned, breaking the ice.
Nancy grabbed a huge, limber dick in each hand and pulled them gently toward the bed.
"Looks like you two need a little inspiration," she said.
Seating herself on the edge of the bed, Nancy swung her legs into it, then lay across it on her stomach, her face at the edge, directly opposite the two dormant monsters, one brown, one pink, their big, thick heads dangling.
Nancy reached out, took one cock in each hand, and inserted both heads into her mouth. The two men were forced to put their arms over each others' shoulders, simply to keep their balance.
The exotic strangeness of the situation combined with Nancy's skillful technique to rouse them very quickly. Soon, Nancy was looking at two huge, one-eyed eels staring back at her, their owners looking eager, but not knowing exactly what to do next.
"Clarence, you just lie down on the bed and I'll get on top of you. Jack, when we're all set, you stick yours up my ass."
All three of them smiled as Clarence lay flat on his back, his gigantic cock wide and flat on his stomach, the fish head well above his navel.
Nancy squatted over him, feet planted on either side of his hips, cunt poised above his cock, which Nancy took gently with one hand, guiding the head between the pink lips, then lowering herself slowly until her insides had devoured the long, thick monster.
Carefully, she braced herself on knees and elbows, raising herself so that Clarence slid partway back out of her.
"Okay, Jack, climb on board," she said. "Don't worry about having a hard time, either. You'll find it all stretched and lubed."
Jack climbed onto the foot of the bed, marching forward on his knees between Clarence's spread legs, seeing his large balls hanging down below Nancy's cunt. He took the cheeks of her ass in his hands and spread them until he could clearly see the big, perfect, pink pucker of Nancy's ass hole, gleaming with mineral oil, ready to receive him.
Jack sighed with pleasure as his stiff baton shafted smoothly into her interior. Nancy was right; he had no trouble at all. It was tighter than a pussy, hotter than a pussy, but very comfortable.
Once Jack was firmly inserted, Nancy began a corkscrew motion, feeling the long, firm cocks inside her rotate. It was sheer ecstasy for her. Never had she felt so full, so sexually fulfilled.
The novelty of it did not prevent both men from adjusting very quickly. Soon, Clarence found himself able to engage in strong, rhythmic thrusts while Jack discovered that, at least initially, a circular motion yielded spectacular sensations, both for him and for Nancy.
Nancy, the recipient of this ardent, double attention, quickly noticed that it was best if she did not try to move at all on her own, but rather to get the best results by simply relaxing, allowing the activities of the two powerful studs to carry the three of them along.
In fact, it seemed to her that she was at once encased in, and floating on, a writhing, beefy, living creature which seemed to invent new sensations of sexual pleasure as it operated on its own.
The motion transmitted from the bottom by Clarence and from above by Jack provided unique variations to Nancy's motion as the effects of one man's efforts were transmitted through her to the other, each believing that it was Nancy who was inventing novel moves as they went along.
I'll probably hate myself for this in the morning, Nancy thought, but I love it right now.
"Come on, you fuckers, sock it to me!" she grunted, as though they needed encouragement, which was certainly not the case.
"This is just fantastic," Jack said. Being the one least hampered in his movements, he seemed to be in perfect control, able to bring himself along by stages toward his climax, in no hurry at all to get there, savoring each plateau of pleasure as he reached it, then surrendering after a time to the temptation to move upward, to feel the next level of sensation before moving on yet again.
Clarence, his state of mind and body a combination of wild excitement and cool-headed control, half spoke, half sang, "It's da bes' thing what evah happent ta mee," causing the three of them to chuckle, but without missing a stroke.
"You'll see," Nancy panted, "that this whole deal's the best thing that ever happened to all of us. Now fuck me, you fuckers!"
"Evahbody ready fo' the final lap?" Clarence asked.
"Let's just let it happen," Jack replied. Nancy let herself go completely limp as Clarence's bucking bounced her and Jack up and down and Jack's combination of circles and thrusts added to the wildness and abandon of their movements.
Then, their excitement and ecstasy mounting, the world disappeared and there was only the three of them, a force and a universe alone, complete, driven by the heat and the sensations, cascading one on the other, reinforcing each other until their passion became a tidal wave of delight of such intensity that their sexual pressure valves released and the three of them climaxed, Clarence and Jack in uncontrolled spurts of thick, hot jism shooting under high pressure deep into Nancy's body from two different directions at once, Nancy's multiple orgasms fluttering below her navel like giant butterflies dying in the throes of a nameless ecstasy.
They lay there for a long time in a mindless heap, the new pleasure, the new sensations of such intensity that they could only be fully realized in retrospect.
Jack, being the one on top of the heap, was the first to peel himself free, ungluing himself from Nancy's back as his softening prick oozed out of Nancy's ass hole, a thick drool of white jism drooling down the inside of her thighs and onto Clarence's balls.
Then it was Nancy's turn to separate herself carefully from Clarence, dismounting by sitting up on her knees, still straddling him, then standing on her knees as his thick, limbering dong slid out of her and fell with a wet, heavy plop onto his stomach.
The three of them stood beside the bed, staring at the disarray of the sheets, soaked with sweat and the juices of their adventure, the mattress exposed.
"I can't believe what just happened," Jack said.
"You best believe it, bro', " Clarence replied.
"Don't call me bro'. "
"If you wasn't befo', you sho' is now-bro'. Aftah whut we jus' done togethah ? Who y'all tryna shit ? "
"I guess you got a point."
"Now that was what I call a peace conference," Nancy observed. "Of course, after what we've just been through, handshakes all around would seem a bit superfluous. How about a shower? The group that sprays together stays together."
Nancy personally washed Jack's and Clarence's cocks, lathering them thoroughly in each hand, then allowing them to do the rest on their own.
When they had dried themselves and gotten dressed, the three of them sat down again in the "Living room" section.
"Now what?" Jack asked. He had a tendency to turn cynical and suspicious once his crankcase had been drained.
"Each of you has his own segment of the prison population to control, and each of you will be held accountable to see that you do, in fact, control it. In the days to come, we-the three of us-will reach mutual and unanimous agreement on certain specific actions to be taken, on others to be avoided."
"If you think for one minute that we're going to be able to turn these animals into a bunch of goody two shoes-" Jack began, but Nancy held up a hand.
"On the contrary, things are going to have to get a lot worse before they start to get any better," she said, ignoring their puzzled glances. "But that's for later. For now, you two are going to have to become roomies."
"Now wait a minute-", "What in hail you talkin'-"
"Shut up, the both of you! Listen to me, now. It's the only way things are going to work. Think about it for a minute. How do either of you know that I'm not going to make a separate deal with the other? How do either of you know what the other is doing, now that you're both going to have even more power than you had before? On another level, how do either of you know the other one is not getting more than his fair share of this?" she asked, pointing to her crotch. "You don't. That is, not unless you can watch each other most of the time. And don't worry. You'll still have plenty of yard time to communicate to your loyal constituents. In fact, it will even move you up a notch in their estimation, the two major bad-asses being forced by the authorities to bunk together."
"Hmmm," Jack said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
"If ah hears you right, it do seem the only way."
"Fine," Nancy said. "I'll have the warden prepare the necessary papers. That's it for now."
*****
"No, I don't wanna have no palaver with them two. You say they agree, 'ats good enough fer me. Know soon enough if yer funnin' me. Be able ta tell by the blood on the cell block floor," the warden said, preferring to look out the window rather than at Nancy.
"Did you notice how little blood you've seen anywhere in the past few days?" Nancy asked.
"You doin' a heck of a job keepin' the peace, 'at's fer sure. I ast Ralph just how you were managin' it. He tells me he don't know an' he don't think I wanna know. Know somethin'? He's right. You keep right on doin' whatever the hell it is you do, an' I'll just sit back an' enjoy the results. I'm not gonna get in yer way."
When he left her office, Nancy thought, Warden, how right you are. Not only are you not going to get in my way, you're going to be out of my way much sooner than you think.
*****
"Ramon! They called me from the gate. What're you doing here? Why aren't you at work?" Nancy asked. "I'm sick in the head. I wanna be committed."
"What's wrong?"
"It's that woman. Janice. She ruined me. I've gotta go somewhere and get my head straightened out."
"Aren't you being kind of a poor sport? I mean after all, she and I just taught you a little lesson. Life goes on."
"That's just it. Mine doesn't. Not any more. Not after the weekend," Ramon said, taking the chair opposite her desk, holding his head in his hands.
"Ah yes, the weekend. Take your time. When you've pulled yourself together, continue," as if I don't know what happened, she added to herself.
Her own weekend had been uneventful. She and Brad had done all the right things-movies, dinner, bed together, most of it sleep. Brad was finding his job more exhausting than he had expected and Nancy couldn't really talk about what was happening here.
For Ramon, however, the weekend had been a nightmare. Janice had not moved out, she had moved in, returning to his apartment without warning. He was angry. He wanted her to get violent, so that he could defend himself, hurting her and, at the same time, avenging his humiliation.
She slapped him hard, forehand and back. He lunged for her-and ended up flying through the air. She did not hurt him or try to follow up, but merely stood there, laughing at him as he lay on the floor. He came at her again and once more the world turned upside down. He landed bouncing on the bed. Again with the slaps, forehand and back. He came at her and found himself hurled full circle, only to land heavily in an armchair. He knew, without being told, that he was in the hands of a martial arts expert as well as of someone of great strength. He was no weakling and pumped iron himself, but he knew when he was outgunned.
Dizzy and shaken, with a feeling of complete helplessness, he had obeyed weakly when she told him to strip.
Janice had also stripped, climbed onto the bed, and spread her legs. She pointed and he got on the bed at the foot and went down on her. At first, he sought to impress her with his technique. But when he felt that he had brought her to the top of the rainbow and tried to climb onto her, she pushed his head back down.
And so it went. He ate her again and again, for what seemed hours, bringing her through climax after climax, fearing that she would break his neck as, every so often and without any warning, her powerful thighs clamped around his ears and she suddenly flipped him over, his face locked against her streaming cunt, which she ground into his mouth, rubbing his lips raw with her wiry pubic hair. He regretted that he had stocked his refrigerator so well, since they did not have to go out for food, which she forced him to prepare under her watchful eye. He would serve her a large meal and she would allow him to eat her leftovers.
They took showers often. Each time Janice had to piss, in fact. He would be forced to kneel before her in the tub and receive her hot, yellow stream in his face, letting his own go at their feet, hoping she would not notice and punish him with another stream of sharp, humiliating slaps. Then they would shower with the water.
And she was tireless. He was worn out, but on and on she urged him, her pussy's appetite for his tongue endless. He doubted he had slept more than half an hour straight the whole weekend.
Still, he had not lost hope. It had to end and then life could return to normal, he kept telling himself. At last, sometime late Sunday night, or perhaps early Monday morning, she had left. He had even managed to report to his new job on time Monday.
"Well, that's certainly a horrible story. And I will personally see to it that you are not bothered by her again."
"Forget it. It's too late. I wanna be committed."
"I don't understand, Ramon."
"Me neither. But something inside me is broke. I thought I could ride it out and then go on, just as you say."
"You mean you can't get it up anymore?"
"Yes, I can. Oh, for sure I can, I can." Ramon said, laughing hysterically. When he had recovered, he continued, "You want me to get it up? Easy! First, you make me eat you 'til you get your rocks off in my mouth a half a dozen times, talking to me like I'm a piece of shit the whole time. And be sure to slap my face often and piss on me every now and then. And when you drag me back to the bed again, guaranteed I'll have a hard-on. And as I'm eating you, I'll play with it and rub it up and down on the bed and then, very, very quietly, so you won't notice and make me clean it up with my mouth and slap me around, I'll cream into the sheets."
"That sounds kinky, but not so sick you have to be institutionalized."
"No, you don't understand. I do, I do. I've got to be cured. Listen!" he said, leaning forward, voice and expression intense, "I don't care about staying out or anything anymore. I've got to be cured, because, because," he paused, looking as if he were about to throw up, before continuing in a whisper, "because I can't do my thing any more.
"Yes, that's right. I tried it. So what? I went to approach the girl, tears came to my eyes, my knees turned to water, and I folded up on the floor. The girl even had the nerve to ask me if I was all right!"
"Not one of your better performances," Nancy commented dryly.
"After that," he went on, ignoring her, "I went back to my apartment and went to bed. Just to make sure my equipemt still worked, I jerked off. And the images in my head were of all these girls with muscles and big, hairy twats standing over me in a circle, pissing on me.
"I can't live like this. I've gotta be cured. I've gotta be able to do my thing, to service the ladies by surprise."
"You admit that to me?"
"To you, to anybody. What do I care?"
"Just a moment, please," Nancy said, smiling and pulling a tape recorder out of her desk.
She rewound it, played it forward, and stopped at the point that Ramon said, ". . .I wanna be committed. "
Nancy carefully erased everything before that.
Ramon stared at her, puzzled.
Nancy picked up her telephone. "Hermann? We're ready here."
Soon, footsteps resounded in the corridor. The doctor came in, accompanied by Ralph and two guards. The doctor was carrying a straight jacket and a file folder. He handed the jacket to one of the guards.
The guards forced Ramon's arms into the sleeves and completed the wrap.
"Off to the funny farm you go, my boy," the doctor said cheerfully, handing Ralph the folder.
"This isn't necessary," Ramon said, looking warily at his new attire.
"It is where you're going," Ralph responded. "The Asylum for the Criminally Insane."
"No! You can't! I belong in a sanitarium. I need tender, loving care."
"What're you, a nursing home ad? Get this ass hole out of here," Ralph said.
"Don't worry, Ramon. You'll have a private cell and a big nurse to keep you company every now and then.
"A big, blonde one, with a hood and a whip and high-heeled boots and mesh stockings."
"You planned this!" he hissed, lunging at her like a large snake, only to be restrained by the guards, who hustled him out the door.
"Great job, boys," Nancy said.
"You're the one doing the great job, Nancy. It's really amazing how things have calmed down since you started meeting with Clarence and Jack. You must be one hell of a diplomat," Ralph said.
"Ja, dot's right. You deserve all the credit. We have merely to follow orders," Hermann said, adding, "But then, it is we who are very good at that."
"Never mind the compliments," Nancy said. "When is Simpson due here?" Simpson, Director of the Bureau of Prisons, was scheduled for that week.
"Tomorrow, I believe," Ralph said. "Then move Clarence and Jack into their new home today," Nancy ordered.
"Yes ma'am!" Ralph said, saluting with a grin. Hermann merely clicked his heels and bowed slightly from the waist.
*****
"Got a minute, Nancy?" the warden asked, seating himself in her office. "Wanted to jaw with you a little 'fore Simpson comes tomorrow.
"Nancy, I like the way you work. I don't understand it, but I like it. You got my tigers caged, morale high amongst the staff an' the population, an' it looks like things is gettin' better an' better hereabouts."
"Is there some point to this, Warden?" she asked, her impatience ill disguised.
"Comin' ta that, Nancy. Coupla points, matter-of-fact. One: As of taday, you are no longer parole board liaison. Let the assistant warden handle that. Worthless goddam political appointee, time he did some work around here. Seen what happent ta that Bolero fellah when Doc gave me them papers on 'im, figgered you wuz handin' me some kinda message. Message received. If I hand you a shit detail, I can expect shit results. So be it. You have no formal duties, as of now. Just keep shapin' the place up.
"Lastly, Simpson is comin' tomorrah. He-likes ta have confidential innerviews with the staff. Sometimes, even with the inmates. Point is, I'm gonna tell 'im 'at you are my discovery, workin' under my direction. I want you to put in the good word for me in return. Okay?"
Nancy smiled, reached out a hand, and patted him on the back of his wrist. "Don't worry about a thing," she said. I'll see to it that you retire from here as warden when the time comes."
"Thank you, Nancy, and I deeply apologize for any misunderstandings when you first arrived."
"Don't give it a thought."
*****
"Nancy, I can't tell you what a pleasure this is. You are apparently just what this place needs. I've talked to Johnson, to Ralph, Doc, even the two hard cases that run the prisoners. You're the closest thing to a saint we've got around here, to hear them tell it."
Nancy threw back her head, laughing. "I'm anything but a saint, I can assure you, Mr. Simpson."
Simpson, tall broad shouldered, his dark business suit certainly not off the rack, raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Oh? I'm not sure how to take that."
Nancy cast an appraising eye on him. His immaculately groomed hair was just beginning to gray at the sides, but his deep tan and athletic figure bespoke a very active interest in the physical side of life. Nancy remembered him from a lecture he had given her criminology class last year. It was, in fact, the speculations of the female members of the class concerning his potential, if not his actual, love life that had first given Nancy the grain of the idea she was about to make real.
"I mean," she began, voice turning serious, gaze transfixing his, "that I'm more deeply concerned with accomplishment than with being what you might call a good person'. I've done a lot here in a short time, that's true; but I did it by responding to people's feelings, to their desires, to being in perfect sympathy with what they themselves want. If this happens to correspond with the common concept of doing good, then fine. The results are what you see.
"But the main thing is that, whatever I do, I do with passion and total commitment. I give all of myself to it."
Nancy thought she detected a faint flush under the deep suntan, an added sparkle in the gray eyes that gazed at her so intently.
"Do you mean that literally?" he asked.
Nancy reached across her desk and took his hand in both of hers, allowing her warmth to invade it.
"Very," was all she said, returning his look.
"Let's you and me get the hell out of here right now," he said, hoarsely.
*****
"I've never known anyone with staying power like you," Nancy sighed, eyes closed, hair in disarray against the silk sheets, legs hooked over Simpson's shoulders as he plowed her drooling furrow, his tireless tool plunging again and again, forcing Nancy up the rainbow, beginning for the third (or was it the fourth?) time to build the pressure of delight within her supple, eager body.
She was like an addict, greedy, eager to reach again the peak of sensation, savoring and responding to the twinges of delight that shot through her at each thrust, using each plateau of sensuality as a springboard to launch herself upward to the next level, where new intensity, new pleasure built upon the old, enforcing it and, at the same time, making it obsolete.
His hot cock seemed to have a mind of its own, to know exactly what to do to create within her newer, stronger feelings, to seek out and milk to their fullest new zones of sensation, the relentless, searching bulb at the head of his throbbing baton going this way and that inside her, the pressure of its alternating lunges and circular sweeps throwing switch after switch, releasing charges of sensual electricity which shot through her in ever more rapid pulses of raw delight.
And when his mouth took one rigid nipple, then the other, sucking and tonguing expertly, new circuits seemed to create themselves, cunt and breasts communicating messages of pure pleasure, sending them coursing through her body, the brain relaxing, abandoning all thought of thought, surrendering blindly to the overwhelming waves of passion that swept over and through her.
And yet, some small spark of realization remained, its function to sustain surprise after surprise as, just when she seemed to be at the pinnacle of pleasure, yet another height was attained, an intensity heretofore unimagined becoming real.
And then, climax, orgasm after orgasm flooding from her grasping, clinging, sucking cunt, the twin boosters of delight and relief sending her into orbit at the speed of light, then landing her softly back on the resilient earth.
"Wow! That was the be-"
He cut her off in mid phrase, ignoring her words completely as he pulled out, still huge and hard, and gently but firmly turned her over, raising her hips so that she was on knees and elbows.
Swiftly, he spread the perfectly round cheeks of her flawless ass, exposing the pink star at the center, slick with the juices of her passion that had overflowed from her and run down.
Without hesitation, he buried his face in her ass, his tongue seeking the epicenter of her pucker, then forcing its way through, feeling the ring of muscle give before the onslaught of the strong, insistent, probing tip.
He rolled his tongue around, feeling the heat of her interior, his saliva drooling, adding to the hot wetness.
Then he got up onto his knees. Carefully inserting the rounded bulb at the tip of his dripping dong, rolling his hips, he pushed gently forward.
Nancy gasped as he entered her rectum with a gentle, corkscrew motion, feeling the fullness as he went deeper and deeper. She could feel the heat, the hardness, the pulse of his long, thick intruder. She could feel the walls squeezing it in reflex, then relaxing, then squeezing it yet again, now caressing, now accepting the monster which was rapidly generating new, throbbing beats of sensuality.
"Mmmmmm!" Nancy enthused as he reached his finger around one thigh and underneath, finding her clit and massaging it in a circular motion, in time to the movement of his hips, which started out in small, slow circles, then increased their motion, his rampant cock jammed to the hilt into her hot ass.
And now her insides loosened up so that she could control the grip of her rectum on his dong. Now she was able to grasp it voluntarily, exerting pressure that added to the intensity of feeling for both of them, now releasing it to allow him freedom of movement so that the magic wand was free to rotate within her, to explore her every interior nerve ending, setting them off like strings of firecrackers, each explosion of pleasure adding to the ever-increasing waves of erotic sensation that were sweeping over both of them.
Meanwhile, back at the clitoris, his finger, relentless in its attentions, went faster and faster, strumming the stiffening bud like a musical instrument, shooting another, distinct stream of sexual delight into her.
And then, the two floods of pleasure seemed to merge, to become a single, enveloping wave of ecstasy, heat and vibrant sensation once again overwhelming them in their intensity. Nancy's being was inundated with a feeling of sudden, rapid flight as she rose above herself under the pressure of sensuality which propelled her through the roof of pleasure and into that which was beyond it as her orgasms overflowed her over-stimulated body and the hot, thick, powerful spurts of his climax shot into her rectum.
When the last delightful shudder of release had passed through both of them, Nancy went flat, Simpson on top of her, still connected at her ass hole by his slowly softening organ.
They lay there, wordless and motionless, for some time before he found the energy to dismount, his flaccid penis squishing slowly out of her.
In a courtly fashion, he offered her his hand, which she accepted, rising gracefully from the wreckage of the bedding. Arms about each others' waists, they strolled gracefully through his vast, exquisitely decorated penthouse to the living room, where they stood gazing at the panorama of the city below, each lost in reverie, dreaming of power.
He turned toward her, saying, "What do you want. Just name it. If it's within my power, it's yours."
"First of all, the idea that I am, in any sense, Warden Johnson's protege, is bullshit."
"I know that. And he insults my intelligence when he thinks for a moment that I believe otherwise. Back to my question."
"I want to be appointed warden."
"When?"
"In three weeks."
"And Johnson?"
"Retire him. Retire him as warden. Only do it in three weeks instead of three years. You can do it. It's in the regulations."
"Only if there is a valid reason for doing so."
"There will be. Trust me."
He turned and looked at her. "For some reason, at least in this instance, I do."
"It's settled, then. And what about you? What do you want?"
He turned to face the city again. "First, I want to be Governor. Then, I want to be President." Turning to look at her again, he added, "And I'm going to need help. The kind of help you're giving me by cleaning up the Castle. By nomination time, I want to have a whole list of positive accomplishments, of which you have already made that one. I'm going to make you warden; but I hope that's not End of your ambition."
"You already know the answer to that one."
"Good. But you know what I really want right now:
"What's that?"
"A shower!"
8
In and out. In and out, in and out, in perfect counterpoint.
That was the sight from the foot of the bed, had someone been watching, as the huge shafts, one from underneath a ruddy pink, one from the top a dark brown, their balls bouncing as they thrust into Nancy, alternating deep plunges and smooth, partial withdrawals, the thickness of the rampant organs stretching both her holes to perfect roundness.
Little cries of "Ah!", tinged with delight and surprise at the exquisite pleasure caused by this double attention, escaped Nancy's lips.
The sense of fullness was accompanied by a feeling of fulfillment. How perfect this is, she thought. like all good sex, this action has not lost its aura of novelty, of fascinating surprises even though this is the third time these guys are fucking me, the second time together. Of course, this is the first time with Jack on the bottom and Clarence on top, but it's every bit as good as the other way around.
Jack and Clarence were also finding this to be the case. This time seemed a little better to them than the first. They had found the rhythm, developed the perfect technique for double fucking. The first time had been terrific, but a little rough at times, each man doing his own thing, all in all a pretty rocky performance. Now, however, the three of them were truly a well-oiled sex machine.
As they plunged on, all thoughts of prison politics, ambition, and power plays faded into the background. Now there was only the moment and its sensations. They were three sweating, panting hulks, living to give and receive the feelings that fucking and fucking alone can yield, their full efforts going to the cause of increasing, perpetuating, intensifying those feelings within themselves.
Nancy chuckled inwardly as the thought struck her that the two studs believed she was giving them her all, expending her efforts to get them off. Nothing could be further from the truth, she thought. I'm giving them nothing here. I'm taking, taking all the delight I can get out of this. I'm milking them for every last ounce of pleasure their fucking can give me. I'm going to drain these big, hot cocks of all the sensation they can produce.
But then, they're probably thinking that they're doing the same thing, taking it all from me. Who cares? The taking and the giving, it's all one and the same when it comes to fucking. The more you give, the more you get. And you get by giving. These were her last rational thoughts for the moment as, feeling an extra strong twinge of sexual electricity charge her system, generated by the ardent partners in the double penetration, her hips suddenly seemed to act independently of the rest of her, beginning a strong, steady circular motion, yielding still stronger sensations inside her and in the two raging pistons of pulsing, engorged flesh alternating so vigorously in her service.
On and on the three-headed monster writhed, sweat pouring as the heat mounted. Nancy and Clarence, jaws hanging slack, eyes closed in ecstatic reverie even as their bodies accelerated, ignored the drool that slowly formed at the corner of their lips, overflowing onto their chins, then joining the rivulets of sexual perspiration which traveled steadily over the contours of the undulating mass and soaked into the sheets.
Nancy, her greedy body reaching out to absorb all the sensation possible, needed only a cock in her mouth to perfect her fantasy. No longer capable of realistic thought in her current state of arousal, she was in a world of her own, filled with rampant cocks standing out in high relief in a haze so thick that the bodies to which they were attached were vague, indistinct, warm gray shapes.
The double action in her anus and her cunt seemed to create waves of pleasure, spreading throughout her entire being. And now, one of the gray shapes emerged from the background fog, still indistinct but with his cock clearly defined, in infinite detail, before her face.
And it did not stop there, hobbling before her, its head the size and color of a ripe plum, its flange thick and flared. As it entered her eager, drooling mouth, sliding slowly along the roof, going deeper and deeper, her lips felt the pulsing veins along the thick, vibrating shaft.
Nancy relaxed her throat muscles as the dong continued its steady progress, a sought after and longed for invader. And now it filled her mouth completely, the head finding the entrance of her throat and gently but insistently entered it.
Inspired by the ever-mounting sensations flowing from orifices, she hungrily began to suck the hot monster of her imagination, loving its heat, its thickness, its plunging responses to her attentions.
She was no longer concerned with what was happening, with reality or unreality. These held meaning for her as she became a creature of pure feeling, a circuit from the actual twin action below to the invader image above completing itself with a strong, steady, buzzing glow within her, a band of searing light, growing in thickness and heat until it filled her whole being, causing her to vibrate, shuddering and shimmering as the feeling overwhelmed her, so that she radiated her intensity.
Jack stopped sucking Nancy's breast, no longer able to concentrate on anything, overwhelmed by the sensations of pleasure radiating through him, generated by the thrusting motion of his hips, reinforced by the bouncing bed as he alternated with Clarence, the feeling of the other man's motion communicated to his prick through the wall of tissue separating them. He was overheated, sweating, yet unaware of any exertion, of any effort at all. Indeed, he seemed to be engulfed in a gigantic cunt, his whole being one gigantic cock, its efforts minimal, being milked to perfection by the hot, firm, smooth, moist walls of the fleshy mass which surrounded him.
But now, Nancy felt the waves of pleasure radiating form her begin to intensify, growing stronger and coming faster and faster, out of all control as they increased to a steady, roaring, impossibly bright light, every part of her supercharged with sensual delight at an absolute peak.
Jack and Clarence felt an off-beat pulsing arising from somewhere deep inside them, a thing they had not the strength or the desire to control, since it promised to bring them to the next pinnacle of sexual sensation and they no longer knew or cared if it would be the one that would push them over the top.
More and more quickly the pulses came from somewhere behind their navels, stronger and stronger until, in a sudden return to reality, they shot their loads. Nancy came with them, her multiple orgasms again matching their discharges as the alternating spurts, now in her ass, now in her cunt, flooded her.
When the last reflex had died within them and they rolled apart, they lay panting and recovering their breath, ignoring their messed up midsections.
At last Nancy, staring up at the ceiling, said, "No doubt you're wondering why I called this meeting."
The two men, one on each side, rolled onto their stomachs, looking at her.
"We're going to make the Castle a better place to live. The worst troublemakers are the repeat offenders. Two approaches: No repeat offender is to be paroled. Either they go to the funny farm or they leave here feet first. And if the guy's a troublemaker in here, he goes one way or the other at any time we decide. I'll consult with you guys before determining which it's to be. The first way I'll handle with the prison doctor, the second with you. I tried doing it another way and it's too troublesome and time consuming."
"She mean Bolero," Clarence said.
"Yeah, I heard," Jack noted.
"What did you hear, Jack?"
"I heard he was committed, that's all."
"News travels fast around here," Nancy commented. "I hope for you guys' sake not too fast."
"Don't worry about it." Jack said.
"We has our ways," Clarence added.
"Yes, I know you do. Speaking of which, for openers, I want the worst troublemakers in each of your factions out of the way immediately."
They sat up, looking at her, expressions wary.
"You both know you've got at least one guy who's killed somebody in here on his own, who can't get along with anyone, and who's more trouble than he's worth. If he dies, everybody will get the message. I know you were saving these characters for future possible use on one of your own, ah, projects, but the future has arrived. And don't worry. They'll be listed as suicides."
Jack looked down, silent.
"You one cold bitch, lady," Clarence said.
"Spare me the editorials. I want it done. One today, one tomorrow."
Jack shrugged. "You got it. Know just the guy."
"I thought you would. Clarence."
"Yeah," he sighed, "I got one too."
*****
In his most in his most professional manner, Hermann asked, "Now then, what can I do for you."
"Open the curtain."
Gaze fixed on her, the doctor did as she said.
There was a body on the examination room table.
"He committed suicide," Nancy explained. "He backed into a knife. Several times, in fact."
"How unfortunate," the doctor said. "I must, of course, complete the necessary paperwork. No problem, I assure you."
"Good. Do you need me for anything else?"
"Not just now," he replied, winking.
*****
"What the hell's going on, Nancy?" Ralph asked, agitation in his voice. "This is twice in two days. I thought you had everything under control."
"But I do, Ralph. You know how suicides are. One does it and if anybody else is thinking about it, they get inspired. Speaking of inspiration ... ", she broke off, seating herself in his lap, playfully removing his uniform cap and starting to unzip his jacket.
They were in her interview room.
"Oh well," he sighed,. fondling her breast, "at least this one could have done it himself, I suppose. And they did find the straight razor in his hand."
"Oh come on, Ralph, surely you have something better to talk about, something better to do, than dwelling on such a gruesome happening. Relax"
"Oh, all right. Only to keep you happy, though," he said, grinning at her as they undressed.
"Keeping me happy's the name of the game, isn't it?" she asked, falling into the bed.
"If not, it soon will be," he replied, piling in after her.
Truer words were never spoken, Nancy thought, reaching for his already stiffening cock, giving it a few tentative tugs before straddling his face with her crotch and going down on him as he lay flat on his back.
When he was fully hard, Nancy dismounted from his face, her pussy lips parted and dripping. Quickly, she squatted above his hips, skillfully gliding the rampant organ into her hot, wet interior. Ralph sighed with contentment as she sat.
He was exhausted from filling out reports on the incidents of the last two days and in dire need of the kind of relaxation Nancy was even now providing-
Nancy seemed to have enough strength and energy for the both of them as she corkscrewed her cunt on his massive erection. Nancy enjoyed herself thoroughly, both with the sensations she was creating within herself and with the control she was exercising over Ralph, in bed and out.
It took no great effort on her part to bring him to an easy climax. He did not open his eyes after he came, but fell into a deep sleep shortly afterward. Nancy showered and dressed before awakening him.
"Sorry, Nancy, but these past few days have taken a lot out of me."
"Cheer up, Ralph. Better days are coming."
"Yeah, but better for who? I could get into real trouble over what's going on here."
"You could, but you won't. Just trust me." When he had showered and dressed, she dismissed him with a masculine pat on the back.
*****
"Nancy! C'mon in, gal! More ta you than meets the eye, little lady. Just wanted to congratulate you on the job you bin doin' hereabouts."
Warden Johnson was ecstatic as he looked at Nancy, seeing in her a person with the courage and imagination to do what he had wanted to do for years and could not, lacking both those attributes.
True, he had been worried, even hesitating at first to countersign the report of the first suicide, then deciding it would look better on the record than murder. The second one he signed only under a firm promise from Ralph, coached by Nancy, that it would be the last-provided, of course, that he would agree to immediately institutionalize thirty others over the next few weeks, for their own protection and that of the other inmates. The doctor's detailed psychological work-ups on the new-found crazies amongst the population were insightful, thorough, and complete and were accomplished without so much as a single personal interview with those affected, in the interests of efficiency.
Between these, the normal parole releases, and a mysterious new policy on the part of the Bureau of Prisons of limiting severely the number of new prisoners at the Castle, for the first time in a dozen years, the population was below the indicated capacity instead of above it, there were no disturbances of any kind, and everything was running smoothly. The warden was even looking forward to Simpson's next visit.
He was therefore very surprised when Simpson arrived and, instead of greeting him enthusiastically, called for a meeting with Ralph, Nancy, Schtickler, Jack, and Clarence, a meeting from which he was specifically excluded.
"I'll speak with you directly after," Simpson told him before going into the conference room where Ralph had assembled them, practically slamming the door in his face.
"Following this meeting, I will be informing Warden Johnson of his immediate retirement. I have called you all here, first of all to display my confidence in you, second to extend the state's appreciation for what you have all worked so hard to accomplish in so short a time, and last, but by no means least, to announce a series of promotions.
"First, Captain Ralph Caprio to warden of the Honor Farm downstate."
There was a polite round of applause. No one seemed to notice the pained glance Ralph cast toward Nancy, least of all Nancy herself.
"Way to go, Cap'n Carp," Jack said.
"Le's hear it fo' da beeg fish!" Clarence boomed.
"Second, Doctor Hermann Schtickler to Assistant Director, Asylum for the Criminally Insane."
There was a moment of embarrassed silence as the doctor struggled with himself to repress a look of fiendish glee.
"Danke, Herr Director," he managed, at length.
"Last, and again by no means least ... , " he said, pausing to draw a deep breath, then letting it out before continuing, "Nancy Ritter to Warden here at the Castle."
The whistling and table pounding went on for a good five minutes before Simpson was able to say, "I was up until the wee hours of the morning at the governor's mansion putting that one together, but
I think it'll be worth it."
"Yeah man, like this place gon' woik any othah way," Clarence grumbled, menacing even beneath the pervasive good humor.
"You got that right," Jack said dryly.
"Thank you gentlemen for your vote of confidence and I'm sure that Nancy will have your full support. Now if there are no further questions, let's get on with our day."
As they filed out of the meeting room, Simpson, catching Nancy's eye, mouthed, 'I'll call you later', to which she nodded understanding.
Proceeding to the warden's office and closing the door behind him, Simpson rapidly explained things to the warden, citing the fact that it had remained for the doctor, the guard captain, the inmate leaders, and Nancy to act to defuse a potentially dangerous situation right under the warden's nose, but that, to avoid a scandal, the warden was to be allowed honorable and early retirement from his post.
When Nancy showed up, briefcase and file folders in hand, to take over his office, he shook her hand, saying, "Little lady, I think I just been fucked by the best of 'em. But I hear a fishin' pole an' a little boat callin' me, so I ain't gonna think too poorly o' the way things turned out. An' ya did keep your promise. I'm retirin' as warden."
*****
Nancy was cradled naked in Simpsons arms, leaning back against his bare chest. The arms did not caress her, however, since they were busy holding the evening newspaper, with pictures of the warden, Simpson, Nancy, and Ralph on the front page, along with a story featuring the changes at the Castle.
"I don't understand, darling," Nancy said. "I asked you to transfer Ralph, but why Hermann?"
"Nancy, I allowed you to clean up the mess at the Castle, using whoever you had to in order to make it happen. We have to close the door on exactly how you did it, for obvious reasons. Hermann's usefulness is at an end. You're going to have to hang in there and handle things on the up and up, for a while."
"What do you mean, 'for a while'? "
"Well, I don't want to stay Director of the Bureau for much longer."
"You mean-"
"I mean that the governor and I talked about a great many things last night, not just the girl wonder. It's settled. I'm running."
"So if you win, I become Director?"
"Absolutely."
"Terrific. But I still don't understand about Hermann.. "
"One of the reporters from the papers called me. Seems he recognized Hermann from his file photo. That's why his picture doesn't appear and he isn't mentioned in the article. 'Fraid ole Hermann is not gonna make it to his new assignment. The FBI has other ideas. So do certain embassies."
"You mean that Hermann is a war criminal?"
"Bingo."
"Who ever would have thought it?" Nancy asked.
Simpson suddenly dropped the paper, turned her face sharply to his and said firmly, "Don't ever try that on me again. We're both too smart for it to go down. You had Hermann spotted from day one."
"You're right, of course," Nancy admitted. "I just wasn't sure what attitude you wanted me to take."
"With me when we're alone, absolute honesty at all times or what we have won't work. Can't work. Understood?"
"Understood. And now, how about something that will work?"
"You're on."
Nancy turned a surprised Simpson over on his stomach. She got behind him and gently raised his hips until he was on hands and knees.
A surprised "Ah!" escaped his lips as he felt het tongue on his anus. She rimmed him thoroughly, playing with the twin eggs of his dangling balls as her tongue did its work expertly. His cock became harder and harder, the longer she kept up the action until, unable to restrain himself longer, he turned around, making room for Nancy to lie down.
He returned the compliment to her pussy, burrowing into her crotch with his mouth, his eager tongue finding her clit, flickering against it with vibrator speed until it was fully engorged, then getting on top of her, his huge, stiff wonder wand finding its own way into her hot, moist, totally receptive cunt.
Simpson used a different technique from his actions of their last sexual encounter. Now there was a total lack of restraint of any kind. He began with a hard, pile-driving motion and kept it up.
Nancy, seeing and feeling what he was doing, decided to stay right with him, all the way. Now there was no holding back by either of them, her pussy clamping its smooth, slippery grip onto his raging cock, sucking it avidly, keeping up the pressure as it pistoned in and out of her churning cunt, her bouncing and writhing combining with his lunging and twisting to create an ever-increasing sexual cyclone in the midst of the satin sheets.
Their body heat rising rapidly with their exertions, the juncture between them generating an uninterrupted flow of exquisite sexual arousal, the rising tide of their lust feeding on itself, there was no climbing from one plateau of delight to another this time; rather, they were both riding a rocket toward the zenith of pleasure, a rocket that accelerated as it climbed, the pulsing of erotic sensation merging rapidly into a steady hum of sexual intensity, the hum itself becoming louder and louder, ringing in their ears as they writhed onward and upward with no thought of control, of holding back.
This time, it was an agressive, grasping, greedy, hungry pumping that drove them both, a reaching for the next height, of wanting to get there ever faster, the demand for the instant satisfaction of their passion, a demand that brooked no interference, no delay, desire and will combined to achieve the ultimate sensual experience.
And when they came-and came and came-in hot, searing floods of sexual lava exploding from deep within their innermost selves, only then did they relax, savoring the luxury of their lascivious discharge, wishing that their body processes could stop at that moment in time, wanting to prolong the series of erotic spasms forever, knowing that this was, absolutely, as good as it gets, as fantastic as it could ever become.
That is, until next time, they silently told themselves in self-mockery, their spent passion leaving cynicism in its wake.
They lay side by side, catching their breath.
Suddenly, Nancy propped herself up on one elbow.
"About the nomination," she began in a business-like voice, then joined him in laughter at the absurdity of the phrase under the circumstances.
"Yes, Miss Ritter, what about the nomination."
"There's no question but that all will go according to plan?"
"None whatsoever."
*****
"Why, Nancy? Just tell me why."
"Please, Ralph, let's not go into it. We both have career moves to make and this was the time. It's as simple as that."
"I see," he said, looking downcast, a forlorn figure despite the sharpness of his uniform. "And everything that we did was just-"
"Was a lot of fun. We used each other well." He could not look her in the eye, turning and waving a wordless farewell over his shoulder.
"Well, Cranshaw, congratulations on your promotion. You're now the new big fish."
"Guess so, ma'am," the big, blonde young man said, cap in hand, eyes downcast.
"Just do as I say and we'll get along."
"Yes ma'am. Thank you."
She looked as his muscular buttocks through his tight uniform pants as he left her office. If he plays his cards right, she thought, I just might teach him the facts of life. But now I have a date with two who need no teaching.
*****
Nancy lay between Jack and Clarence, a big, meaty, limber cock in each hand.
"What happens to us after you move onward and upward?" Jack asked.
Nancy had thought that one over herself. She had considered all the possibilities, throwing them to the wolves certainly being one of them, as they no doubt suspected, especially now that she had replaced Captain Carp with Lieutenant Brainless. She could even do something as simple as having them shot while trying whatever. At the other end of the scale, she was their whole sex life and, let's face it, they were a large part of hers. Was that to end, one way or another?
"Parole," she said, simply.
"Y'all gon' hab ole Simpson do that fo' us?" Clarence asked in disbelief.
Nancy smiled. Clarence wasn't stupid, that was for sure. No questions as to who or how or when. Governors could do many things, given the right inspiration, and Clarence knew that.
"Why not?"
'"Cause ah thought you an' he, well, you knows."
"Simpson is a big boy. And he's about to become a very big boy. I'll see him whenever he wants. He knows that; but he's going to become a very busy person. He'll need all the help he can get, including mine. Staking a claim to my snatch is the farthest thing from his mind. The closest thing I have to a claim on him is to ask him to do what he can to give me the help that I want. He'll be only too happy to do it, believe me.
"After all, who knows as much about prisons as you two? So, when I become Director of the Bureau, I could use a couple of good advisors. Especially ones with equipment like this," she said, giving the hefty dongs a few pumps.
With this action, plus the heretofore undreamed of hope of freedom, they responded rapidly, the monuments quickly rising to impressive heights.
As she climbed onto Clarence's waiting shaft, Nancy felt her juices begin to flow, her body responding with almost mindless anticipation. Settling down on it, engulfing it with her eager vagina, she sighed with the pleasure, the completeness of her situation.
Jack's vibrant tongue, probing her ass hole, sent the familiar but always novel first surges of added delight coursing through her body.
Clarence pulled partly out, allowing Jack to push gently but firmly forward, the big, rounded head of his pole intruding easily into her rectum, the rest of the thick, throbbing organ shafting slowly into her, the feeling of lascivious fullness invading her senses, giving her a simultaneous sense of calm fulfillment and sexual excitement.
And then, the motion, at which Jack and Clarence had become so adept, started, slowly at first, tentative lunges and withdrawals, testing the sytem before going full force. Nancy relaxed, letting herself go completely, content to allow herself to be manipulated by the two powerful studs, to let their emotions, their excitement, carry her along, a passenger in the twin-pistoned vehicle of their passion.
Yes, she thought, I need this. I need to have my brains fucked out regularly by the best studs with the best equipment. I need to let myself go and not feel that I'm giving up any control by doing so.
And then, the pistons once more began their steady acceleration, their expert rhythm gathering steam.
Pow ... er! Pow ... er! Pow ... er!, ran through Nancy's mind, in perfect time with the alternating thrusts of the two mighty cocks as they kneaded her sandwiched body to arousal, then to the beginning of the climb up the rainbow.
Powerpowerpowerpower, ran the thought, speeding up and running together. And then it was no longer a word, but an idea, no longer an idea but a feeling, no longer a feeling but a universe, surrounding her and making her one with it until she was permeated, then radiant with the force, the pleasure, the ecstasy.
Epilogue
The dominatrix! She stands there, against a gloomy, threatening background, as though evolved from its restless, churning darkness.
Hood and whip, boots and leather bodice, all in black, she appears, as she has for centuries, a symbol of mysterious and alien power to which our collective imaginations have given the status of symbol and archetype.
But symbol of what?
And archetype of what particular complex of thoughts?
Is she not the menace and the lure of feminine power unchecked, with the ability to overwhelm or enrapture, as she sees fit?
Does she not both repel and attract, causing fear and desire at the same time?
What power can oppose or stop her, she who incorporates all force, all energy into herself?
In her, the weaker sex becomes strong, and this to the point of invincibility.
Fearless, determined, unstoppable, with the power to inflict pleasure or pain in unlimited quantities, separately or at once, she demands unconditional surrender.
And yet, what is she, after all, but a figment of our own dark fantasies?
And the mind, like the body, has no process which is not useful to it in some fashion.
Of what use, then, is the dominatrix?
She is the female for whom we need have no sympathy, no understanding.
These considerations, which the female in most ordinary relationships passively elicits or, in some cases, actively solicits, play no part in her.
She neither requires nor desires them.
She would reject them with scorn, punishing rather than rewarding any such sentimentality.
The clinging vine has no part in her.
Unstoppable as hammer, invulnerable as anvil, she strides down the path of her iron will through the universe, shoving aside or cutting through all opposition, persevering without letup, enduring without being in any way diminished.
Luxury, wealth, status?
She desires these only as forms of personal power.
Pain and hardship she shrugs off, unscathed.
Sex with her is without restraint, unlimited as to possibility, duration, or intensity, whether given or received.
She takes what she wants and needs nothing.
Like the shark, she consumes, not because she is hungry but because it is her nature to devour.
