Gender: Female Age: 41 Location: East Coast
|Introduction: This is part of an occasional series of ‘Scenes’, all of which are a single scene in a particular type of location. It is a ‘point of view’ story, and you can imagine that you are either the young white blonde or the tough black dyke who has her in her power. This is happening at a prison somewhere near your town, right now.|
copyright: Lesley Tara, 2010
WARNING: this story includes woman-to-woman coercion, violence, rape and murder, with an inter-racial theme of black-on-white dominance. It is entirely fantasy, and is not meant to suggest that anyone behaves like this in reality. IF THESE THEMES ARE LIKELY TO OFFEND YOU, PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.
You frighten me. You frighten me from the moment I first see you, as the guard shoves me from behind and I stumble forwards into the prison cell. The guard is like you, a muscular and tough-looking African-American woman, at least ten years older than me. She gives me a hard slap on the ass, and says in a tone of gloating sadistic humour: ‘Well, I’ll just leave you with Josie here, to get acquainted’, adding with a cruel laugh: ‘I bet you two just get along fine!’ The guard slams the steel cage door across behind me and then strolls away, her message quite clear: there will be no help for me here, I am entirely at your mercy – and I doubt that there will be any of that.
As I look at you, I am paralysed by fear. I have just arrived at this penitentiary, with its terrible reputation – how will I ever manage to survive for two years in this hell-on-earth? I was foolish, impulsive, naive – but I don’t deserve to be here! I was fresh out of college, only 21 years old, and in my first job. Yes, it was stupid to have an affair with my boss’s husband, and it broke up their marriage when she found out – but her revenge has been terrible, she has destroyed my life. She framed me to make it seem that I was stealing money from the company; somehow she got into my private accounts and passed the money through them to some offshore bolthole, and I never noticed it happening. When the auditors traced it, everything pointed to me, had my thumbprints all over it, and I had no chance, no chance at all. In fact, so hopeless was my position that in the end I went for the offered plea bargain and said I was guilty – oh, how that evil bitch must have laughed when I confessed to a crime that I had never committed!
And now, here I am, starting my sentence – and totally out of my depth. I am pretty, I know, and I look young, sweet and innocent, partly because I’m a classic natural blonde with slightly yellowish straight hair and striking blue eyes. I am around average height at five feet five inches, and I have a good body that I’ve always been proud of; my bust is shapely with firm, thrusting 30D breasts, I am quite slender with a narrow waist and my ass juts out pertly behind me – it looks really hot in tight jeans or a mini-skirt.
This environment is so alien to me, as you are. I was never, ever in trouble with the police or the law before this – I’m a nice middle-class girl from a safe and prosperous (nearly completely white) suburban neighbourhood, a graduate from a good college; I was captain of the cheerleading squad at my high school, and homecoming queen, all the boys wanted to date me, all the girls thought I was super-cool, always so smart and fashionable ... oh, God! I am near to breaking down in hysterical tears, that all seems so remote away now, part of another world ... what kind of place is this, what will be my fate here?
The guard told me very little about you when she was bringing me here – just enough to make me feel sick with apprehension. She said that you were on a life sentence, and that you had murdered ‘a white cunt just like you, darling, so you’d better watch your manners!’ I was surprised that they would put a new inmate like me in with such a hardened prisoner, but now I realise that it is quite deliberate, that I am being given to you like a lamb for the slaughter.
You seem to be around thirty or maybe a little more, and you look real tough, as hard as nails. As African-American women go, you are quite black – I guess a central African ancestry, far back in the slave days (which I suspect you have neither forgotten nor forgiven). Your rich dark skin gleams like polished mahogany, you have a broad flared nose and full lips which are just now compressed in a harsh line, your expression contemptuous. Your hair is quite thick but cut short – all in all, you look like my worst nightmare: an older, black, bull-dyke lesbian.
You have been sitting motionless on one of the two beds in the cell since I arrived a few moments ago, regarding me with a hostile, stony glare. I babble something in an attempt at friendship, giving my name and introducing myself, but it just bounces off you, ignored completely. Now you slowly rise to your feet and walk towards me, and my stomach gives a sickening lurch. You are taller and heavier-built than I realised when you were sitting down – you must be nearly six foot, I think. You are not wearing the same uniform that I have been given, but something better and more comfortable, perhaps not regulation issue. Your short navy blue skirt and plain white singlet top show the well-defined muscles of your legs, arms and shoulders – you look like someone who works out a lot. Your breasts are quite big as well, I can’t help noticing that, as they swing as you move – despite their size (which I’m guessing is maybe 34E or 36D), it is clear that you wear no bra under the vest, and your nipples are clear points in its thin cotton fabric.
Still without a word, you come to stand right in front of me, quite close. You see that I am trembling and you savour my fear, your lips curling slightly in hungry anticipation. Suddenly, you grip my pony-tail (all that is left of my lovely long blonde hair, after the guards in the reception unit sheared most of it away) with your left hand, and force my mouth against yours. It is not really a kiss, there is nothing of affection or love in it all – it is more like oral rape, a conquest and seizure of the booty. My lips are pressed apart; as I open them to utter a protest, your thick wide tongue plunges into my mouth, your lips mash heavily against mine and I feel your hot breath. Oh! – this is disgusting, awful! I have never been with a woman, never wanted to or thought about it, certainly not since some early-teenage messing about of the kind many girls get up to.
Instinctively I jerk away, manage somehow to pull my face back from yours, and I’m about to start a wail of protest and refusal ... but you don’t give me any opportunity. I don’t see it coming, and from nowhere you right fist slams into my gut, exploding the breath out of me. You release my hair as I collapse to my knees in front of you, clutching my stomach in agony, bowed over with my forehead almost on the cold concrete floor of the cell. As I gasp for breath, you speak for the first time – cold, cruel and callous:
‘That’s better, learn your place, bitch! And I don’t need to know your name, you stupid white cow – from now on, your name is Cunt, and you’ll answer to that and do what I tell you, or I’ll make you suffer so bad that you’ll beg to do anything I want, no matter what.’
Cold shivers of terror are running through me – I am completely in your power, locked into this tiny steel and concrete cage with you; no one will help or save me. Your physical size, violent aggression and dominant personality have so easily broken my will to resist. Tears run down my cheeks, and my shoulders heave in silent, shuddering sobs. You pull my chin up with one hand, and then slap me viciously across the face with the other.
‘Stop snivelling, Cunt ... and learn your first lesson!’ To reinforce your message, you slap me again, and I am stunned, my law-abiding middle-class self is too shocked at being the target of such violence to be able to do anything to resist. I am where you like to see white blonde bitches: at your feet, on their knees, shivering with terror, pale-faced with wide horrified eyes that are pleading soundlessly for mercy, which is an item you don’t carry in stock.
You command me to kiss and lick your feet – you have a pair of slip-on canvas shoes, which you kick aside. This is so humiliating, if I do this it will be such an acknowledgement of my submission to you – but what else can I do? You are so much fiercer and stronger, I would have no chance in a trial of physical force – it would be futile to try, I would only get badly hurt and the end result would be the same. And so, with salty tears dripping onto the floor, I bend over and kiss each of your toes, and lift each foot to suck on the big toe.
You smile with relish – breaking this feeble white cunt is going to be so easy, it’s almost a pity that she’s not resisting some more (you had fun beating the shit out of the last one for nearly a week, until she finally collapsed in surrender). Still, I am the type you most like to dominate – white, blonde, pretty in a girlish way, a middle-class college-educated career woman who wouldn’t look at you twice outside of these walls, but whom you will make into your abject sex-slave, one of your harem of fuckababes whose cunts belong to you, even whilst you loan them out to all the other African-American dykes and guards who want a piece of their pretty little pussies. You are always ready to add another blonde to your stable, to force her into lesbian submission and turn her into a pussy-eating slut. You have a deal with the guards (the Chief Guard being your lover), and they bring you the youngest, peachiest white women to subjugate, knowing that you will crush them without mercy.
You hate my type – you never liked smart-ass rich white bitches anyway, even before the events that brought you here. About seven years ago, you had a sweet young African-American girl as your lover, a cute little thing with great pointy tits, just fresh out of high school. She moved in with you, was hot and eager in your bed, a delicious piece of ass in every way. Then she got a job as secretary at a realtor’s and was seduced by one of the sales executives, a chic white blonde in her late-20s; the girl dumped you, and moved in with her new lover in the picket-fence suburbs. Anger and hate consumed you – and you took a sadistic revenge. One day when they came home after work, laughing and cuddling, you were waiting in the house; at gun point, you made them both strip naked, and then you forced your former girlfriend to tie the white bitch spread-eagled on the bed in which they fucked each other. Despite her pleas and sobs, you made the black babe lash her white lover across the breasts, stomach and legs – and up between the legs, right on her cunt – with a whip you had brought with you; the white cow was gagged with her own panties and tights, but you got off on seeing her eye-bulging stifled screams of agony, masturbating yourself and reaching a climax as you ordered the final strikes right onto the white bitch’s slit. Your former pussy-girl was so frightened that she did everything as you demanded, not daring to hold back on the force of the lashes, and she was quaking with terror when you dragged her by her hair to the side of the bed – her pain-wracked lover looked up in horror as you viciously stabbed the black babe in the ribs and guts several times, before letting her body slump to the floor.
It was then that the white bitch knew that she was going to die as well, and she struggled frantically but futilely in her bonds as you searched the house for what you wanted. When you returned, she whimpered in horror, for she understood at once. You had a long broom-handle, which you pushed into her bruised and bleeding vagina – after six inches were inside, you paused for a long moment, savouring her mewling begging sounds, and then you slowly rammed it home for another foot or more, until her body stopped bucking on the blood-soaked sheets and was quite still. You poured petrol over their corpses and set the house on fire, but eventually, a month or so later, the cops arrested you on DNA evidence and you were charged with double-homicide. However, the judge was a middle-aged African-American woman who was a closet dyke, and you had her sympathy as well as her admiration of your ripe figure; she ensured that you avoided the death penalty with a life sentence instead (and she visited you in the holding cells after the trial, where you had an opportunity to show your appreciation in a suitable manner).
I do not know any of this at this time, I can just sense the waves of anger radiating out from you and the harsh hostility of your expression, and with a plummeting heart I realise that I am going to be in for a very bad time here and that I have no choice but to let you do whatever you want to – I am so utterly in your power, just a human toy to be played with and thrown around.
After I have licked your feet, I look up at you tentatively through tear-filled eyes, hoping that this has been sufficient humiliation and assertion of your authority. But my heart sinks, for you stare down at me implacably, and I know that you have more, much more in mind, and that nothing will stop you. You grasp my pony-tail again and haul me to my feet – so fast that my best effort to keep up is not enough, and I give a sobbing scream from the pain as you pull on my hair – but no one hears me, no one comes to investigate.
Apart from underwear, my only piece of clothing is the standard-issue prison outfit – a plain and straight shift dress which comes down to just above my knees, with short sleeves and a square cut front, in cheap cotton, dyed in a medium blue. I am shivering as I stand in it, but that is from fear of you and not from feeling cold – if anything, it is humidly warm here, the air laced with the fetid smell of too many human bodies confined too closely. With one hand you keep the vice-like grip on my hair which is forcing me to stand on my tiptoes, and then with the other you suddenly seize one of my breasts through the thin material, mashing and mangling it in your broad ebony grasp, and easily batting aside my feeble attempts to protect myself. I am making a wailing sound of despair – now that you have begun an overtly sexual assault, I dread what it may lead to. Then you savagely pinch my nipple, and my head jerks back and a harsh cry of agony, fear and humiliation is ripped from my throat.
I am brokenly begging you to stop, pleading with you not to hurt me, but you are implacable and I dissolve into sobs as you hiss harshly at me that this is just the beginning, and that by the time you are done with me – you describe it as ‘breaking me in’, which sounds animalistic and horrible – my throat will be raw from my screams. And then so quickly do you prove it – with lightning speed, like a blitzkrieg through my feeble defences, you release my bruised breast and thrust your hand up between my legs, up under the prison shift, and roughly grope my pussy and then pinch my soft labial lips, as I scream piteously.
Oh, dear God – no! Please, please, no! I am whimpering in abject fear, as you poke a finger into my pussy, thrusting viciously through the plain white prison-issue panties – I realise now that you mean to rape me, and I am quaking in fear, my teeth are chattering. But I have already learned part of the first lesson, and although I wail and sob, and twist in your grasp as I seek to escape that long impaling finger, still I do not try to fight back, I do not try to prevent you from abusing my tender young cunt.
You shove me backwards until I am pinned against the cold iron bars of the cell gate. Now my freedom of action is gone, and you release my pony-tail and use that hand to jerk my uniform dress up around my waist. Your other hand is still grasping and poking my crotch, and then – with the unmistakeable deftness of long practice – you twist aside the gusset of my panties with a flick of your wrist, and now nothing can stop you. With a satisfied gleam in your eye, you ram your longest finger back into me, so hard that your balled fist slams agonisingly into my pelvic bone, forcing me to rise to my tiptoes in an attempt to minimise the painful violation of my most intimate parts – to be entered by another woman is something I have never contemplated, never would have permitted. You pull your finger out and poke it sharply back into me several times, as my hips shake and shudder. The pain is not quite as much as I feared, mainly because my pussy is oozing lubricating juices, easing your passage ... this is surely a reaction from fear, I mean, I can’t possibly be being turned on by this assault, surely not, surely I can’t be! What kind of a vile slut would I be if I actually found your sick attentions to be enjoyable? I almost vomit at the thought but, before I can do so, I realise that we have an audience.
Behind me, standing on the other side of the barred cell gate, are the two guards who are on duty in this section. They are both African-Americans; one is the woman of around thirty who originally escorted me here and pushed me into your cell, and she has come swaggering back with her arm around the waist of a younger guard who looks to be in her early twenties – this woman has bigger tits, but if anything she looks meaner and tougher than her older colleague. They laugh derisively at my tearful pleas, and I swiftly realise that they are not here to help me – quite the opposite, they have come to watch me being abused. Oh, Jesus, they are lesbian dykes as well! Standing side by side, each one pulls up the other’s uniform skirt and pushes a hand down inside her panties, and they begin to masturbate each other as they get ready to watch the show that you will put on – at my expense. They jeer at me, and tell me that I had better get used to such treatment and start liking it. The younger one has a nasty leer on her face as she says:
‘Get used to it, you cunt – a pretty white blonde like you is going to be pussy fodder for half the jail, prisoners and guards, right up to the Warden herself, once you’ve been broken in – and that’s Josie’s job here, she gets you first because she’s the top dyke bitch, so the quicker you learn to please her the less you’ll suffer ... of course, you’ll still suffer, because she hates white bitches like you, so you get to choose between a bad time and a very bad time!’
I look at the guard, appalled, and she and her comrade laugh vindictively – they like to see white cunts getting taken down hard and brutal, learning that their place in life is to grovel at the feet of black women and eat their pussies whenever they are told to. They watch gleefully, calling encouragement to you and jeers at me, as you force me into sexual acts.
With several rough jerks, you tug the prison dress over my shoulders and head, leaving me standing in the plain white cotton panties and bra that I was issued with on my arrival. Instinctively, I try to cover myself from your searching gaze, with a hand across my bra and another shielding my pussy. You laugh scornfully at this pitiful attempt, and before I can protect myself you slap me across the face again. It is not a random tactic – my hand that that is covering my breasts involuntarily jerks upwards to protect my face, leaving my chest exposed, and in an instant you grab the bra at the join between its cups and jerk it downwards. The catch at the back snaps, and you rip the bra away from my chest, exposing my pert breasts. I make the start of a move to cover them, but you wag your finger at me and I desist. My resolve drains away, and I let my arms dangle at my sides.
You pull on my tits again, perhaps not as hard as before, but they are already bruised and sensitive, and so this is almost more painful, and it makes tears run down my face. You look at me with a hard glare that speaks louder than any words that if I resist you I will be savagely beaten and then you will still get your way, and I bite my lip in apprehension but nod slowly to you in silent acknowledgement of my surrender ... there will be no more resistance from me, not even token, and now we both know it. The corners of your mouth turn up slightly in a contemptuous smile that does not touch your eyes – so easy, it has been so easy to dominate this frail, slim girlish-looking blonde with her prominent tits and pert rounded ass, to crush her will and make her your sex toy, your sapphic slave.
You run a finger slowly down between my bruised and aching breasts, down my stomach and then you let it rest against the elastic waistband of my plain white prison-issue panties. You draw out the moment in order to savour my apprehension and my humiliation at being unable to resist you, and then the finger moves down the crotch of my panties and traces along the groove of my slit, which is easily visible through the cheap thin cotton. I quiver as you rub up and down my cleft, strange feelings mixing with a burning sense of shame, and sweat beads my face and breasts. I swallow nervously as you hook a finger into the waistband of the panties at the front, pulling them away from my sticky flesh with one hand as your other suddenly delves inside, scooping my pussy and squeezing and mauling and – aaaargh! no – no!! oh, please, no! – pinching my labia, which unaccountably are puffy and sticking out from my pussy.
You give a harsh, satisfied laugh, and with a sudden vicious jerk that makes me give an involuntary scream and nearly lose my balance, you rip the fabric of the panties apart across the gusset, turning them into a pathetic strip of cotton around my waist and completely exposing my pale white pussy. You use the remnant of the panties like a lasso to haul me close to you, and again your kiss is like an assault – but this time I open my mouth, and try to respond, curling my tongue around yours, sucking your tongue deeper into my mouth. In appreciation of this co-operation, you hands shift to seize hold of my buttocks and you pull me against you. One of your iron-hard muscular thighs is between my legs, pressing against my cunt, and you use your brute strength and your vice-like grip on my ass to grind my pussy up and down your leg, where to my shame it leaves a wet lubricating trail of juices. The abrasion is animalistic, and it stirs a primeval response from me, hot warmth in my abdomen and loose wetness in my vagina – oh, this is so shocking, disgusting, wicked!
After a moment of this grinding assault, you desist and then – grabbing my pony-tail and jerking painfully downwards as the signal – you make me drop to my knees in front of your tall imperious body. I crouch there, looking up at you like a terrified rabbit caught in the headlights. My head is spinning, my mind in a turmoil as the unmistakeable stimulus from your leg-rub of my pussy is mingled with the nightmare of my pain and humiliation, making a powerfully disorienting cocktail of desire and fear.
You order me to remove your short felt skirt, and with stiff and trembling fingers I do so. I give a sharp hiss of shock as it is unbuttoned and peels away, for you are wearing no panties as well as no bra. Revealed is your ripe and powerful pussy, a prominent bulging Venus mound, your pudenda matching your height and broad-hipped build. It is spotlessly clean shaven, and the folds of jet black outer flesh make a startling contrast with the bright pink that is visible between them. I can’t help it, but something draws my eye to that moist gash, partly open and so vivid. I have never seen another woman’s pussy like this – so close up, so revealed and so sexually charged. You see my shocked fascination, and give a gloating laugh, before ordering me:
‘Worship me, Cunt!’ you instruct me; ‘worship your mistress, you useless blonde cunt-slut! Suck me and eat me, and do it well, you stupid bitch, or you’ll pay for it in pain!’
I shudder in fright, for I know thus is no idle threat. But is it only that fear which makes me hurriedly shuffle closer on my knees, take a bracing grip around your thighs, and thrust my mouth against your parted pussy-slit? Or is there something more, something that is impelling me to be eager to please you, to pleasure you, and not just from terror of what you might do to me? I don’t know, I just don’t know, and it is that most of all which has my shoulders heaving in silent empty sobs, as my abused body kneels between your legs and for the first time ever in my life (and with a sinking heart, I realise that it is the first of many, many more times to come) my tongue slides along another woman’s pussy, and tip of it eases into her moist vagina to stimulate her to climax.
The taste of your cunt-juice is strange, not as rancid as I somehow assumed it would be, but instead it is sharp and spicy, rather a curious and unforgettable flavour. I gulp, and inadvertently swallow some of it – curiously, taking it in that way, more or less voluntarily, makes me feel more possessed by you than your finger reaming out my pussy did – because that was an assault, but this is participation, even if from coercion.
After relishing my virgin effort at pussy-eating – which you think is not bad, actually, for a newbie to girl/girl fucking – for a few moments, you take a firm grip of my blonde pony-tail and haul me upright once more. You remove your singlet and are now naked, and your large broad breasts are almost in my face – which is exactly where you want them. You pull me forwards and mash my face into your massive cleavage, so that I am almost smothered and struggling for breath. I don’t have to wait to be told what my task is, that is obvious enough. And so I begin to lick and lap around the wide brown aureoles that encircle your nipples, and then to take them between my lips, sucking them into my mouth.
Just as I start to get the idea of this, to get used to their strange combination of softness and resilience, I experience a savage pain in my cunt – it would have made my head jerk backwards if your iron grip on my pony-tail was not pressing me into your chest, it would have made me scream in agony if my mouth was not gagged with your huge tit. You have rammed your free hand up between my legs, entering me like a battering ram – aaarrgghh!! oh, Christ alive, help me! You force two fingers right into me, and now a third, making me jolt to my tiptoes in a futile effort to escape your penetration, and then I am twisting and jerking like someone electrocuted, as you piston into and out of my pussy with short vicious jabs. The burning heat in my vagina is sending me into overload, my senses cannot absorb any more, and fresh tears run down my face to pool against your breasts.
Just as I think that my mind will shatter under this assault, you desist – but not from any kindness, as you have a new humiliation in store for me now, something to drive home that I am the lowest of the low on the totem pole here. You still have my pony-tail in your grasp, and you jerk my head sideways, knocking me of balance so that I crash to the floor on my knees. Still holding my hair, you drag me to the front of the cell, where the barred steel door is between us and the two callous lesbian guards. I shuffle desperately forwards, until you push my face right into the bars, forcing my cheeks between them – they are not wide enough for my head to go right through, of course, but because I am quite slight of build, it goes as far as my ears, which leaves my mouth and nose protruding on the other side.
The guards laugh uproariously to see this college-educated middle-class blonde pinioned in this hopeless humiliating posture, like a sheep about to be shorn, and bleating just as uselessly about it. Your head bends down next to my ears, and you hiss at me:
‘Scream for them, Cunt! Let your betters hear that pretty voice of yours, I wanna see how high a note you can reach, you pussy-fuck!’
I barely have a second to wonder what you intend – and then I know, only too well, for you spear a finger into my unprotected asshole! A scream is ripped from my throat, a shrill keening wail of despair as you remove your digit and then stab it into me again even harder. My ass was virgin until this rape – I have never liked the idea of anal sex, refused always to even consider it if a boyfriend hinted at it, but now my innocence is gone for good. The guards whoop and holler in delight, their hands working frantically in each other’s cunts, rubbing at their clits – their panties are now down around their knees, so I can see exactly what the dirty dyke sluts are doing to each other. My teeth gnash together as you assault my anus yet again, and my scream reaches a shriller note, my eyes bulging and my mouth hanging open in shock.
The younger of the two African-American prison guards pulls the older woman’s panties all the way down her legs, removes them, and then undoes her partner’s uniform skirt, laying it neatly aside. The older black guard is now naked from the top of her shiny black leather jackboots to her midriff and the hem of her uniform shirt, with her pussy fully exposed. It is gaping open from her colleague’s fingering, I can almost see her juices dripping from it, and I give a shudder of revulsion. Still, with my head forced by your grasp between the bars, I am forced to watch as the older guard now performs the same service for the younger one, but with the addition of giving a quick lick and kiss to her pussy. Then the older guard turns back towards me, and I suddenly realise what is next in store for me, a split second before it happens.
The older guard comes right up to the cell cage-door, and thrusts her cunt against my imprisoned face. She reaches a hand through the bars to take one of my tits, and gives it a cruel pinch as she orders me to eat her out. All of my willpower has long gone, and I do not hesitate for even a second before complying with her demand, trying my best to service her satisfactorily and so escape further punishment. I cannot escape the degradation, however, the bewildering inversion of being the sexual servant of these rough, uneducated, uncultured, violent black dykes – I have become a property to be used at the whim of women who I know I would have looked down on just a few weeks ago, if I even noticed their existence ... and now my only role is to satisfy their perverted lusts, and be a punch-bag for their hatred and their desire to punish pretty white women, and especially prissy young college blondes like me. Oh, yes, I am just their type – for assault and pain and rape!
The senior guard is bucking her hips against my face, mashing my lips and bruising my nose. Through vision that is blurred by tears, I see her younger partner move around behind her – unbuttoning the older woman’s uniform shirt, peeling it aside, and thrusting her bulging scarlet bra up above her breasts. Their heavy mahogany weight drops down into the younger guard’s cupped hands, and she begins kneading and squeezing them, whilst she nuzzles the older woman’s neck from behind and grinds her own naked pussy against the older woman’s out-thrust ass. My tongue has now worked its way deep into the older guard’s vagina, and these combined attentions send her into climax; she grunts fiercely as she comes, her juices splattering across my mouth and nose.
I barely have time to draw a shaky breath, and the two guards have reversed position – now the younger one shoves her pudenda into my sticky face, whilst her older lover strips her completely of her uniform shirt and her bra, leaving her naked apart from her black boots, black hold-up stockings and uniform cap. The butch young guard cups my chin in her hand, giving me a look in which vindictiveness competes with her fervent anticipation of the hurts and humiliations that await me. She prises my jaws apart and spits her saliva into my mouth, and as I gag on this she jabs me in the stomach, forcing me convulsively to swallow. She snarls at me:
‘Fucking eat me out, you bimbo! You’re our whore now, you fucking stupid white bitch, and you’ll eat my black cunt and love it – so do me good, blondie, or I’ll fist your pussy up to my elbow, and then you’ll fucking know what pain means!’
This threat terrifies me, for I can see from the hot gleam in her eyes that she would do that – in fact, she would love to do that to me. My fear that she is the more sadistic of the duo is confirmed, for she takes a moment to cruelly abuse both of my breasts, twisting the nipples viciously in opposite directions, and visibly drawing pleasure from my renewed howls and the following broken begging for release. I am relieved when I can start eating her cunt – dear Lord, what am I reduced to that it should seem a mercy to fill my mouth with a black woman’s sweaty pussy! But now I have more of an idea of what to do, and perhaps she is already really turned on, because she orgasms quite swiftly, and more curious-tasting cum-juice smears across my face.
Now that I have serviced the guards, you release me from the bars, letting me slump to the floor and catch my breath for a moment – you know I’ll need it for what is to come. The two guards know that too, and they smile in anticipation, taking up their position as spectators and resuming their fingering of each other’s vaginas.
I look over my shoulder, and give a sob of despair. I feared that it would come to this, but still could not banish a faint and foolish hope that I would be spared a complete rape – until now, and that illusion is torn away as well. You reach into your locker and produce a nightmare of a weapon – a huge strap-on dildo in shiny ribbed black plastic, it must be nine or ten inches long and nearly two inches in diameter! It is one of the perks of your position to have such things in your cell, they are always ‘overlooked’ on the occasional cursory routine ‘searches’ by the guards, who in fact are your accomplices in the rapes of white pussy bitches.
Dear sweet Jesus, I will never be able to take the size of that thing! – it’s twice as wide, and maybe twice as long too, as the biggest cock I’ve ever had – I can’t possibly fit that in, it will rupture me inside! Please, no, no, I am begging you – which of course increases your pleasure, you love to see a pretty white woman in terror of what you are going to do to her sex holes, and you enjoy her grovelling for the mercy which she will never get from you – there will just be more humiliation, pain and rape.
With relish, you brutally tell me that you are going to fuck me – that my cunt belongs to you, that whenever you want it you will have it, and who gives a shit if I don’t like it? The two guards give a coarse laugh, and rub their crotches whilst they echo you with phrases like ‘right on!’ and ‘too true, white bitch’, and then they call to you to take me down, to rape me real hard.
‘Let’s hear how this white meat squeals, Josie!’ calls out the older of the guards, and the meaner, pinch-faced younger butch adds: ‘Yeah, fuck her up, Josie, rape her cunt, make her scream!’
Sweat is pouring off me, and like a frightened rabbit I am too scared to even move, never mind make a try at resistance. I know that I am perhaps a bit submissive – I’m usually the passive partner with my boyfriends, getting done in the missionary position or sometimes doggy-style; I’ll suck their cocks if they ask for that, holding my head down whilst they spurt warm gunk against the top of my throat. I rarely initiate sex, or do anything adventurous, and hardly ever have an orgasm – but I’m good enough at faking it that the guy’s self-esteem isn’t hurt.
You force me to kneel in front of you again, to kiss your toes and then – oh, God! humiliation on top of horror, I have to buckle onto you the demon weapon that is going to be used so cruelly upon my tender pussy! With tears of fear clouding my vision and with trembling fingers, I fasten the huge phallus in front of your sweaty crotch, putting the straps around your glistening ebony hips and tightening the buckles – but not firmly enough, so you slap me hard across the face again, snarl that I am a stupid and useless white cunt, and you pull them another notch tighter.
Now I have a further degradation, although truly you tell me that you are kind in even permitting it: I must lubricate the strap-on with my saliva, which will make it go into me easier – you throat-fuck me for a few minutes with it, until I am so short of breath I am seeing stars. You withdraw it, and smack it hard against my cheeks, on each side of my face. You point to the bed that you were sitting on, and issue one simple order:
‘On your back and spread them, Cunt!’
I know that I must obey, so I totter to the bed and lie on it in the way indicated – with my ass at the end of it, facing to the cell front so that the guards will be able to see my gaping pussy, see the huge plastic cock reaming into me. I spread my legs wide open, so they fall over each side of the bed, opening my hole even more. I am surprised to feel rather wet down there, a bit peppery and tingly in my cunt, almost with a kind of anticipation – but I put this down to the defensive reactions of fright.
You fuck me first in the missionary position, shoving the unforgiving hardness of the cold plastic into my oozing cunny-hole. I part painfully for its entrance, my vulva opening wider than I ever knew it could, accommodating the monstrous intrusion. I am so wet down there with the mixture of sweat (borne of terror and of frantic activity) and my vaginal juices, which to my surprise are sloshing as they never have before – it must be the loosening effect of terror and brutalisation, some kind of adrenalin-based self-help instinct.
Like most women, I have had my rape fantasies – but never, ever, did I fantasise anything like this horror: to be the terrified and powerless victim of a muscular black hate-filled lesbian dyke, my face still stinging from her brutal slaps, my breasts aching from her vicious pinching of my nipples, my cunt burning from being savaged by her monstrous strap-on plastic cock, raped in a stinking prison cell on a smelly flea-ridden mattress with cruel guards laughing at my degradation and fear, tears streaming down my cheeks, and knowing that nothing but more and more of this lies ahead of me.
You are utterly merciless, staring down at me with flint eyes and a grim face, your pelvis whiplashing backwards and forwards with devilish speed and strength as you assault my cunt with the battering-ram of your huge dildo, slamming it into me with vicious force. I am screaming, sobbing, pleading tearfully with the guards for help ... I can’t take any more of this, I just can’t, you are crushing me, destroying me. A sudden wild terrified thought takes me ... do you mean to kill me? Would the guards stop you? Would they even care?
Oh, dear God of mercy, help and save me! I’m being raped – raped by another woman!! I can’t believe it, such things don’t happen, surely women don’t do such terrible things? But my sheltered suburban life has made me a stupid naive innocent, for it seems that here at least, in this hell on earth, they happen all the time – they happen at the casual pleasure of the top dyke bitches like you and the guards, whenever they want to use a pretty babe like me. You tell me that I’m going to be a whore for all the dykes in the prison, but my only payment will be in pain – and more pain. I am shivering and crying with fear as you tell me that I belong to you now – this is the understood law of the jail, that I am your fuck-slave, to be done with however you please. You say that after I am ‘broken in’, you will stud me out to all the black boss-bitches, and let them beat and hurt me when they rape me, if they want to. With a sick empty feeling in my gut, I know this is true – in this penitentiary, it is the law of the jungle for soft feeble pussies like me, and its cold bare corridors echo at night to the horrified screams of young white women being beaten and raped in their cells or spread-eagled on the floors of the toilets and showers and repeatedly gang-banged.
All this time, that terrible huge hard rod is ramming into me, spearing into my pussy, shredding away any girlish innocence that I might still have left. You are raping me viciously, totally dominant over me – I am in a nightmare, being forcibly fucked by an amazon African-American dyke with a massive plastic phallus, ridged and ribbed to rub me raw inside, to agitate every nerve-end in my vagina, and to thrust deep into my womb like a sword.
I realise that in your lengthy daily work-outs, you must practice press-ups most of all – for you are poised over me, and without resting your weight upon me you start to flex up and down on your arms and toes, your taut gleaming mahogany ass rising and falling like a piledriver, slamming your plastic cock into my slender girlish body. The whole bed creaks and groans with each downward impact, and I start to squeal as well – it feels like some road gang is excavating a tunnel through my pussy and my pelvis, and now they are starting to set off dynamite to blast their way through.
You change position a little, standing once again (and without having removed the dildo from inside me). You take my legs and force them up and backwards, pinning my knees against my shoulders so that my feet are pointing up at the ceiling. I feel like a trussed turkey, and now I am utterly spread and open – it would not be possible to be more exposed, more vulnerable.
Now you are driving the dildo in from above, gravity adding extra impetus. With one foot on the end of the bed, you loom over me like a black mountain, your fine heavy breasts suspended above me. Without thinking I react by reaching up to cup your mammaries, rubbing my thumbs across your nipples. You give a soft grunt and a half-nod to give me permission to continue, but your fierce angry expression does not waver, and I wonder what white bitch you have in mind as you plunge the dildo into my cunt, battering and bruising my vaginal walls, crushing my tender labia as the strap-on’s faceplate slams against them. I am squealing and moaning: the first are broken pleas for this lesbian rape to stop (quite futile I know, but I can’t stop making them), but the second are becoming a mixture of pleasure with the pain, and my fright is diminishing.
Strange sensations are washing through me, the convulsive effects of being penetrated so deeply and roughly, and the friction of the dildo’s ridges is having an inevitable effect in my cunt. My whole body is jerking spasmodically every time the piledriver phallus is nailed home, I am quivering and shaking, and coated in sweat. I know that my mouth is open, saliva drooling out on the dirty mattress as I take gasping gulps of air, that my hands have clawed a death-grip onto the thick woollen blanket, that my hips are shuddering not just from the smash of your powerful thrusts between them but also from a fire that has been ignited inside my pelvis. There is a roaring in my ears, but over it I can hear a high-pitched voice from somewhere that is shrieking:
‘Rape me! Rape me! Hurt me! Rape me harder! Hurt me more! Fucking RAPE ME!!’
Can that be my voice? I must be out of my mind!! But I am, I am – I am out of my mind with ecstasy, driven simultaneously through the roof with pleasure and into the ground with pain, the two inseparably wrapped up together in one fantastic, awful, amazing, horrifying – but, most of all, explosively erotic – package! I give a tortured scream as I come, juice spurting out of my pussy like it never has before, my mind shredding in the incredible blazing glory of my orgasm – an orgasm so much more profound and satisfying than any I have previously known that it is like comparing Mount Everest to a sand dune. Its intensity burns away all that was before, my pathetic little former life curls away into cinders before it, revealed in all its meaningless futility. Everything before this moment now seems irrelevant, flaccid, pale and colourless. In its place, vivid and fiery, is the sudden understanding of who and what I am. I embrace this, relish it, roll the knowledge around in my mind, sensing how right and real it is: I am a true submissive, a rape slut and a pain pussy, and I want it only from women – and the meaner, tougher and rougher the the bitch is, the more it will transport me. Yes, now I know that I am a lesbian too ... no wonder my affairs with men were so unfulfilling, emotionally and physically, and no wonder I almost never initiated sex with a man; it wasn’t, as I had thought, the inhibitions of my polite Catholic middle-class upbringing, it was my hidden true lesbian self.
As I lie there, exhausted and devastated, yet also somehow purged and renewed, you give a grunt and roughly pull the dildo out of my vagina. You stand towering over me, and I realise that you are far from finished yet, and I swallow – but now there is a curious detached anticipation, a curiosity and even desire, which is overlaying the dread which is still there. You deliver a stinging slap to my right breast, and before I can even utter a yowl at the pain this causes, you backhand my left breast even harder.
‘Roll over, Cunt,’ you snap impatiently at me, as if I should have known to do this, ‘get on your hands and knees, and spread your butt – it’s time to nail your clit, Cunt, I’m really gonna have you now, I’m gonna blow you away, you fucking piece of blonde trash!’
I scramble to obey, getting on all fours on the rumpled mattress, my ass thrust out towards you, my knees obediently apart so as to make my pudenda easily accessible, as my throbbing breasts hang down pendulously from my chest. You shift your grip to around my waist, your powerful hands holding me trapped as you take a fresh angle and then plunge the plastic rod back in. Now it smacks against my clitoris on each insertion and withdrawal, starting a new fire raging in my crotch, building a core of white-hot tension in my vagina. I am begging for more, for you to treat me rougher, to slam it home deeper, to fuck me harder and harder, to take me and make me come for you, please – oh! – please make me cum, cum now!!
You impale me, ramming the plastic cock into my vagina for its full length with vicious force, whiplashing it out and then smashing it home again, making me hoarse from my screams. You take one hand away from my hips and begin slapping my buttocks, really hard – Christ, that hurts! My yells are redoubled, becoming frantic not just from the pain of your spanking and the punishment of my pussy, but also from the desire that is mounting within me, triggered from my raped and ravaged vagina and most of all from my swollen, abraded, inflamed clitoris. I feel like a horse that is being ridden, galloped furiously hard with the finishing post in sight, to carry both of us past it together – although you, of course, are totally in command.
You use my blonde pony-tail like the reins on a horse – the hand that is not mercilessly thrashing my ass reaches for my hair, and jerks my head back and upwards, holding my body rigid against the force of your hardest, deepest, most ruthless penetrations. I give a piercing scream as the knob of the dildo rasps across my clit one more time, and my body is aflame, I am wracked in a tornado of pain, shame, lust and ecstasy, and I just cum and cum and cum – a rippling series of amazing earth-shattering climaxes.
In the midst of these, you give a harsh shout of ‘fuck-ya, ya cunt!’ as you drive in the final battering intrusion. You leave it painfully deep inside me, and I am dimly aware that you have released my hair and ceased to swipe my sore red butt, as your hands instead grasp your own tits and squeeze them hard. I can feel a powerful tremor run through your body, and I realise that taking me has got you off as well, that you have just orgasmed from your rape of another weak and defenceless white blonde.
As you are no longer restraining me, your final impact sends my boneless body lurching forwards off the prison bed. I stagger a few stumbling steps, collapse against the bars across the front of the cell and slump to the floor, exhausted and conquered. I am dazed, almost semi-conscious, and my body is quivering and shaking from the after-shocks of that tremendous, explosive wave of orgasms – so much more intense and profound than anything I’ve even dreamt of before. My utter powerlessness sweeps over me, and with it the sense of liberation – of blissful freedom. There is an inner peace that comes with knowing and accepting what I want: to be seized by your cruel and violent lust, my body used for your pleasure without care or compassion, my cunt split open by your raping strap-on, hammered raw until I am screaming – for then will come my reward, what I long for, what after only twice I am as addicted to as any junkie to his dope: these unbelievable, pyrotechnic, mind-blowing climaxes. I am so grateful to you, my mistress, my goddess, owner of my body and soul, for this is where I have found myself and this is where I should be, this is how a blonde lezzie rape slut like me should be used – and abused.
Outside our cell, the two dyke guards have been hollering with glee during my nemesis and rebirth – though they know nothing of the latter, and view me only as your tortured victim. They high five each other and then, whilst groping the other woman’s ebony breasts, they interlace their muscular thighs and push their cunts together, beginning a short frantic burst of sweaty grinding of pussy against pussy, their labia rasping together, until almost simultaneously they shout and shake in orgasm. With their arms still around each other, the younger guard sneers contemptuously at me and calls out approvingly to you:
‘Yo! You’da top bitch, Josie, that’s fo’ sure! You fuckin’ nailed this blonde, all right – she screamed even louder than that last bitch, that stupid cunt schoolteacher – and I thought you were gonna kill that one!!’
Her older companion runs a possessive hand over the younger guard’s pussy, and adds her verdict:
‘Yeah, Josie, good one – you sure broke this bimbo fast, she crumpled like a tissue, the feeble cowardly cunt!’
The younger guard likes this metaphor, and takes it up with relish:
‘Fuckin’ true – use her like a tissue, Josie! Wipe your nose on her – no, better still, wipe your ass with her, she’d better learn her place, just like all blondes – flat on her back and spreading her pussy for us!’
The older of the two guards steps forwards and sticks the toe of her glossy leather boot through the bars of the cell to poke me in the ribs, none too gently.
‘Get up, Cunt, you useless bitch!’ she growls, ‘you’ve got lots to do yet, before you can have a rest!’ while her younger companion adds with a leer: ‘that’s if Josie lets you rest – by the time we bring you back, she’ll be ready to rape you all over again!’ She laughs sadistically, assuming that this prospect will appal and terrify me, instead of making my racing heart leap with joy.
You reach over, grip my blonde hair and roughly haul me to my tottering feet, ignoring my scream of pain. You look me in the eye for a moment, pinching my breast hard as you do so, and then you give a slow, satisfied nod. You pick up my prison uniform shift dress, ball it up and throw it at my chest, where I clutch it in a daze. You slap my face, and order me to put it on – you have destroyed my bra and panties (for which I will be blamed, and a prison guard will enjoy punishing me for it later), so I have no underwear. I struggle into the dress, wincing as the rough fabric scrapes over my aching but stiffly erect nipples and my burning bruised butt. Turning to the guards, you say that I am ready – but that you want me back later for more ‘obedience training’, and in fact you’ve decided to keep this one for a while, you think she’s got some potential. I swallow, for I know what kind of treatment you think I have the potential for.
I offer no resistance, no resistance at all, as the guards unlock the cell and lead me away. My pussy is bruised and throbbing – every step I take makes me wince, as my swollen tender vaginal lips rub against each other. My ass stings painfully from where you smacked me repeatedly, my breasts ache and my tits are purple and sore, feeling as if they are on fire. Before I am out of sight of the cell, I have enough strength to look over my shoulder, and I blow you a kiss. You understand this for what it is – an admission of unconditional surrender, the token of my subservience and my acceptance that now I belong to you, that you own me, body and soul. Your granite expression does not change, but there is a hot glint in your eye and you nod your head just slightly in acknowledgement – and I feel a lightness in my chest, for I know that it is your confirmation that you will indeed rape me later, hard and mean, again and again and again.
The guards are taking me to the shower block, where I will be prettied up (during which they may have a some more fun of their own with me, I’ll do whatever they want) before going for my first session of pleasuring the Warden. I recall her from when I arrived: a formidable and imposing African-American woman in her late 40s, maybe fifty, with a stern and severe manner. She inspected us new arrivals after our medical examination, when we were completely naked. As we stood with our legs apart and our hands on our heads, our breasts and pussies shamelessly exposed, the Warden had scrutinised each of us from top to toe before deciding upon our fates. I was so frightened then, and so embarrassed to have these harsh-looking uniformed black women staring at my defenceless pale nude body, that I had not really registered what she had said – but now I remember that her short cane had rapped me lightly under one breast, and then she had told her assistant with the clipboard: ‘send this one to Josie, and I’ll see her when she’s ready.’ I give a shiver, which the guards assume is of fear – and a few hours ago, they would have been correct, but now it is excitement, anticipation. I remember the Warden is a big-chested woman, and I moisten my lips at the thought of getting to fasten my mouth around her ample breasts and suck on her engorged prominent nipples.
The guards tell me that after the Warden is done with me, it will be my first turn on the rota of pretty blondes who service the guards’ ready-room for this wing of the prison. The younger – and, I think, meaner – of the two tough African-American guards reaches behind me as she says this, and pinches my bottom painfully in the soft flesh just next to my ass-hole. She whispers to me that she’ll be on duty and waiting for me there, and that she likes to fuck white bitches in the ass – hard and deep. I gulp and swallow, and she gives a huge peal of laughter; then she stops our procession for a moment, pushes me flat against the wall, shoves a hand up my prison uniform skirt and roughly fingers my butt-hole. I make a whimpering noise ... but it is not entirely from fear, I do it more to excite the guard, I want her to dominate me later, to be cruel when she takes me. She asks me if I am an anal virgin, and I lower my eyes to the floor and whisper ‘yes’ as if it shames me even to mention it, which I know will turn on the guard even more. She pulls my dress back down and pats my bottom, and with vicious relish she says:
‘Well, honey, you won’t be when the Warden’s through with you, that’s for sure ... but, you know, it can hurt even more the second time, and that’s my turn!’ and she chuckles in pleased anticipation, not realising that – despite, or because, of the fear that flutters in my stomach and makes my knees weak – I am looking forward to our encounter with as strong a burning flame of desire as she is.
I know now, with absolute certainty, what I am: a submissive lesbian, a sapphic masochistic slut, a pussy-eater for any dominant dyke that wants to take me – and most especially for any black woman, they are so strong and so powerful, so glorious. No wonder my sex life was dull and ineffectual before, a few desultory affairs with boyfriends that never felt like they meant anything or gave me much satisfaction, emotionally or physically. I went along that path more as part of the crowd, doing the expected things from a feeling of obligation – even that stupid business with my boss’s husband, I hadn’t really wanted it: it was mostly that I was flattered by his attentions, and lacked the confidence and willpower to keep him at bay. Now, all is revealed, the scales have dropped from my eyes – for the first time I feel natural, uninhibited, accepting whatever will come my way. I embrace my new identity: I am indeed Cunt, just a cunt on legs for any dyke to take, a piece of blonde pussy to be used and abused however my mistresses desire – and I hope they desire to be cruel, to rape me and hurt me and rape me again.
Two years? Only two years? It isn’t long enough! – for what better place could there be than here, where I can prostrate my naked body at the feet of black lesbian dyke prisoners and guards? I will have to see if I can get my sentence extended ... perhaps if I talk nicely to the Warden, when my mouth is full of her spicy cum-juice after I have eaten out her gorgeous ripe African-American pussy, maybe she can sort something out for me.
If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories ... you might like them too ... (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)
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