Chapter 18 Conjugal Visit

 

     “Why are you driving so fast?  Do you want to get pulled over?” asked Stacy eying the speedometer on Mark’s Hyundai.  They were driving west on the Massachusetts Turnpike at over eighty-five miles per hour.

      “We’ve got to be there by 11:00AM or we don’t get in, no exceptions,” said Mark sounding worried.  “I don’t want to piss Dad off.  He gets ornery when I screw up.”

     Stacy had noticed that in contrast to his relaxed state at the card party which had ended with an incredible one on one fuck between the two of them, Mark appeared nervous and jumpy.  He had barely spoken to her since he picked her up in front of the dorm.

      “We just passed Exit 42.  You said it was right off Exit 44.  We should be close,” said Stacy once again feeling exposed in the short skirt and tight knit sweater.  When she had last worn her working girl clothes as she and Portia dubbed them, it was night.  Being dressed that way in the cold light of day had a different feel to it.  

     “You’re not married?” asked Stacy engaging in some small talk to pass the time.  Learning as much as possible about the members of Mike’s Posse was also part of the plan Portia and she had devised.  They’d decided to build complete dossiers on each of the six Posse members.   Portia had been searching the WEB to establish the basics: date of birth, marital status, education, etc.  The fact that a majority of the Posse was married with at least two children surprised her.

     “I was once but we divorced.  It only lasted a year.  How about you?” asked Mark?

     “No, I’m just a sophomore in college,” said Stacy finding the idea Mark thought she could have been married a trifle strange.   “Marriage is a long way off.  I want to complete school and establish a career before I look for a husband.”

     “I got married right out of high school.   We got along when we were dating but fought like cats and dogs every day we were married.  After the divorce, I joined the air force to get some college but things didn’t work out.  I’ve got a two year degree,” said Mark.

     “What would you like to do,” asked Stacy?

     “Get my four year degree then become a policeman.  Mike said he would get me into the Criminal Justice program at Northeastern.  After I graduate, he’ll pull some strings to get me hired.”

     “That’s nice of him,” said Stacy.

     “Mike’s a great guy.  He’s helped a lot of people.”

     “Yes, he’s all that.  I’m lucky to be dating him,” said Stacy.  “Are the other members of the Posse as nice as Mike?”

     “Some are.  Some aren’t.  Lou’s all right.  Zack is hard to get to know.  Just between us, Brad and Bobby can be a pain in the ass,” said Mark.

     “Most of the Posse are married,” said Stacy still trying to understand the casual attitude toward adultery exhibited by Mike and the others.  Stacy had already mentioned to Portia her suspicion fidelity did not seem to be part of Posse marriages.

     “Except for Zack, he just got divorced from Wife Number Three.”

     “He’s not that old.  What do their wives think when their husbands don’t get home until three in the morning?”

     “Friday night is husband’s night out.  Saturday they take the wife out somewhere nice.  There’s an understanding about that.”

    “So the wives don’t ask any questions like who have you been fucking this evening, dear,” said Stacy surprised at what Mark was saying.  She had a hard time picturing herself ignoring any future’s husband regular Friday absence until three in the morning.

     “Not unless they want a rap in the mouth,” said Mark.

     “And the wife stays home with the children while the husband goes whoring,” said Stacy still in a state of disbelief.

     “Right, it’s kind of a tradition for a policeman’s marriage.  There’s lot of stress being a cop.  Being out with a girl friend helps them unwind.  Friday night is girl friend’s night and Saturday is the wife’s,” said Mark repeating himself.

     “How about the wife?  Does she get to go out one night?”

     “Sure, with her girlfriends or other cop’s wives, nothing wrong with that.”

     “Who do they screw on their night out?”

     “No one, at least they better not if they know what’s good for them,” said Mark giving Stacy a condescending look.  “Zack caught his second wife screwing the pizza delivery guy.  He beat the shit out of both of them.  He would have gone away except he’s a cop and they made it go away.”

     “So fidelity is a one way street?”

     “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

     Stacy recalled the terrible period after her mother found out her father was sleeping with the administrator of the hospital.  “My parents almost got divorced over my father having an affair. I once swore I would never have an affair with a married man.”

     “There are lots of things in life we swear we would never do; but we wind up doing in spite of our earlier beliefs.  You’re just a beginner when it comes to adultery.  You fucked four married men the other night, hardly a record.  A busy hooker probably screws ten married men a day.”

     “Plus you and Zack,” said Stacy.

     “Plus all the guys you did in high school and college,” said Mark.

     “High school adds only two.  There were also two in the DVD Mike made of me; but since I was drugged I’m not sure they counted.  I don’t know whether they were married.”

     “They all count.  How many girls have you gone down on?”

     “Adriana, you saw me do her, the unknown girl in the DVD, and my roommate Portia. Those were all in the last ten days.”

     “You seem to be making up for lost time.  You’re leaving out a few.”

     “Who?”

     “Let’s see, after they finished filming, I did you but you already counted me.  The Zodiac crew took their turn.  Let’s see. Larry, the soundman, Bill and Ramon the camera guys, Morris, the lighting technician, plus, you’re going to love this, the great Mel Winslow himself, the fat fuck, that makes five.  And you and Corrine, the makeup and wardrobe, ate each other out like a pair of horny dykes.  Watching girl on girl sex is major cock hardening.”

     “Why do guys like to watch girls?” 

     “It’s just the way we are,” said Mark.  “It was hot when Adriana went down on you after you caned her.  You swing a mean cane.  Mike said you were a natural dominant,” said Mark.

     “I was turned on too.  But I felt guilty about hurting her,” said Stacy.

    “She deserved it.  I was ready to blow another load after screwing her while she ate your pussy.  I jerk off at night thinking about it.  And when the two of us got together after everyone had left, that was one awesome mind blowing fuck.  My cock was sore the next day.”

     “Thank you, Mark, its sweet of you to say that.  I was sore also.  Oh, I forgot about the night Portia and I went out and got drunk.  I need to add four, Monk, Les, Roger, and Avery,” said Stacy.  Roger and Avery are married.  That makes seventeen men and four women total.  Fifteen of the men and all the women were in the last ten days.”  

     “That qualifies you for the title of super slut.  You look the part this morning.”

     “I was a wholesome jeans and tee shirt college girl until I met Mike Cabreeze.  My interest in clothes was zilch.  He makes me dress this way.”

     “Don’t get me wrong, you look terrific.  Mike’s a genius when it comes to knowing what makes people tick.  He saw something in you others didn’t see.   He’s changed a lot of people’s lives.  He’s ended a few too.”

     It had been a busy week at school for Stacy.  She had exams and a paper to turn in.  She was hoping Mark had forgotten about their so-called date. But Thursday night, she’d gotten a terse email.

 

      Stacy

      Pick you up in front of your dorm at 9:00AM Saturday.  Dress hot.  We’re going to see my dad.  It’s his birthday.

      Mark

 

     “Maybe he’s planning to marry you and he wants you to meet his family,” said Portia reading the email with Stacy.

     “By dress hot, he means like a tramp,” said Stacy.

     “Sex with dad and son, that should be different,” said Portia.  “It’s not on my lengthy sexual resume.  I’ll have to add it to my To Screw List.”

     “So where to,” asked Stacy climbing into Mark’s car at 9:15AM?

     “Mike didn’t tell you?”

     “No, he said you were taking me somewhere and we would be gone most of the day,” said Stacy.

     “A. J. Pullman Maximum Security Correctional Center, it’s out the Mass Pike almost to the state line,” said Mark,

     “A prison,” asked Stacy?

     “Yes, its visiting day.  They allow conjugal visits,” said Mark.

     “I don’t understand.”

     “Not much to understand, my Dad’s fifty this month.  I wanted to give him something nice,” said Mark.

     “And something nice, that’s me,” asked Stacy?

     “Yeah, if he asks, tell Dad you normally charge five hundred for a half and half.  I want him to think I spent some serious dough on his gift,” said Mark.

     “Half and half, you’re losing me.”

     “Blow job and fuck.”

     “Half and half normally means half milk and half cream, interesting adaptation of the term.  I’ve never visited anyone in prison.  What’s it like?” asked Stacy.

     “Ugly, when we arrive, the fucking guards search us for contraband.  That’s mostly dope but sometimes its weapons.  Then we’re allowed to enter the dining hall where all the prisoners are waiting.  We get to spend four hours before they kick us out,” said Mark.

     “Do your Dad and I do it right there in the dining hall,” asked Stacy?

     “They have small areas sectioned off with curtains for screwing but you can blow him under the table.  Most of the women suck the guys off below deck as they call it.  Guys want as much sex as possible since conjugal is only once a month.”

     “Exactly how many times do I get to screw your father,” asked Stacy looking out the window at the countryside as she thought how morally low she had sunk in just a few weeks?

     “As many times as he wants,” said Mark.

     “And the guards don’t object?”

     “Not on visiting day,” said Mark.

     “What crimes did your Dad commit,” asked Stacy?

     “Killed some people,” said Mark.

     “Why?”

     “Shit, I don’t know.  Probably just because he felt like it.  They probably deserved it.”

     “Who were they?”

     “Two men and a woman don’t ask him any stupid questions like that.  He’ll get pissed.  Good, here’s our exit,” said Mark.

     Stacy heart sank when she saw the dark stonewalls of the prison in the distance.  I’m going to have sex with a murderer who killed three people thought Stacy as they pulled into the crowded parking lot.  He will be my eighteenth sexual partner, not exactly a milestone.

     “Hurry,” said Mark grabbing a bag out of the back seat containing several cartons of cigarettes.

     “Women to the left, men to the right,” bellowed a guard through a bullhorn to the mixed crowd milling about in the staging area.  Children were excitedly running around like they were about to be let in to an amusement park.

     One unusual thing Stacy noticed was that the women were almost all wearing short skirts and showing some cleavage.  Some of the older heavier women looked ridiculous.  I fit right in observed Stacy right down to my fuck me pumps.

     “See you on the other side,” said Mark moving to the right of the narrow hallway as the crowd formed into two lines.

     “First time to AJ’s?” asked a woman standing in line behind Stacy.

     “Yes, scary place, you’ve been here before?” said Stacy.

     “Yes, every month for the last two years, my husband’s doing a nickel for rendering.  I’m Grace,” said the short pudgy woman offering her hand.   Her oversized boobs were almost bursting over the top of her scoop necked sweater.  Her navy blue knit skit was stretched to the max and short enough to reveal a garter belt held up her stockings.  A pair of gold open toed backless slides with a three-inch heel completed her look.

     Compared to most of these women, I almost look respectable realized Stacy before she took the woman’s hand and replied.  “I’m Stacy.  Pardon me, but what exactly did you mean by nickel and rendering,”

     “You are new. Clyde was sentenced to five years for passing or rendering bad checks.  What did your guy do?”

     “Triple murder,” said Stacy deciding to sound tough.  “He’s not coming out except in a box.”

     “Must be difficult, surprised you’re still hanging in there at your age.  He must have friends on the outside keeping you in line,” said Grace.

      “This is a one time thing,” said Stacy.

      “Final fuck and good bye,” said Grace.  “Make it a good one.  From the looks of you, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a replacement.”

      “What going to happen in there,” asked Stacy as they approached a doorway with a sign stating, “No Talking Beyond This Point”?  A guard was allowing one or two females to enter at a time.

     “If you’re lucky, they just pat you down.”

     “And if you’re not?”

     “Cavity search, next time you might want to look more like a soccer mom.  The matrons like to have their fun with professionals,” said Grace.

     “Professionals?”

     “Hookers,” said Grace.  “Look around, you’re not the only hooker being paid to hump a convict on visiting day.”

     “I’m a college student,” said Stacy noting several of the women nearby did look like prostitutes.

     “Sure you are, honey.  And I’m Grace Kelly.  Prince Rainer is waiting outside to take me back to Monaco as soon as I give my husband a blowjob.”

      Further discussion was ended as Stacy reached the doorway.

      “Toes on the yellow line, miss,” said the matron.

      Stacy didn’t have to wait line long before the matron barked, “Station 4,” sending her to a pair of female guards standing under a large sign containing the number four.  Stacy saw there was a square painted on the floor and the number four painted inside the square. 

      Keep your cool Stacy told herself as she walked quickly to the position wishing she hadn’t dressed so provocatively.  Her feet already hurt from standing on the concrete floor in the four-inch pumps she was wearing.

      “Hold your arms straight out and don’t move,” said the matron who appeared to be charge.    Her nametag read Corporal Alma Withers.  She was a middle aged overweight black woman.   Her partner, Private Anne Simpkins, was a painfully thin white girl whose uniform hung off her like she had recently lost twenty pounds. 

     Stacy did as she was told.  Private Simpkins passed a metal detecting wand over her as Corporal Withers dumped the meager contents of her purse out on the table and looked through them.  Following Portia’s suggestion, she had stripped her wallet down to driver’s license, one hundred dollars in cash and a small makeup bag.  Her credit cards and other identification were safely back in her dorm room.

     “Lift your sweater above your bra if you’re wearing one,” directed Private Simpkins.

     “Why,” asked Stacy looking around and seeing that none of the other women had their sweater raised.

     “Because she told you to, bitch,” said Corporal Withers stepping directly in front of Stacy putting her face inches from hers.

     “All right,” said Stacy grabbing the hem of her sweater and pulling it up over her bra.  She realized wearing the sheer see through bra Portia had picked out was a mistake. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material.  And since it was chilly, they were standing at attention.

     “Those real,” asked Corporal Withers slipping her cold hand inside the bra feeling underneath Stacy’s breasts?

     “They’re real.  I’m genetically gifted thanks to my mother,”

     “Does this feel real, smart mouth,” asked the matron as she pinched Stacy’s nipple hard digging her nails into the soft flesh.

     “Ouch, what the hell was that for,” asked Stacy?

     “You could hide a couple of ounces under those puppies,” said Corporal Withers sliding her hand into the other bra cup.

      “I’m not smuggling dope under my boobs,” said Stacy.

      “You sure about that,” said Corporal Withers pinching Stacy’s other nipple?

      “Yes, stop, please, you’re hurting me,” said Stacy wincing with pain.

      “What you charge for a fuck, honey,” asked the Corporal allowing her hand to fondle Stacy’s breast?

     “I charge five hundred for a half and half,” said Stacy repeating Mark’s lie.

     “Shit fire, bitch make more on a single trick than I make in a week,” said the Corporal as she removed her hand.  “Now, raise your skirt.”

     “Why? I don’t see anybody else having to do it,” said Stacy.

     “Sergeant Simmons,” yelled Corporal Withers.  “Need a cavity search.”

     “No, it’s all right,” said Stacy grabbing the hem of her skirt and pulling it up over her hips.

     “Too late, honey, we need to look in your box,” said the Corporal as a tall African American male guard appeared at Stacy’s side.

     “This way,” he said taking Stacy by the arm and leading her toward a doorway in the back of the room.

     “Where are you taking me?  What’s wrong?  I’m not hiding anything,” said Stacy.

     “Don’t say another word or you won’t get fucked this afternoon.  Got another one, Darlene,” said Sergeant Simmons as soon as they reached the doorway of a much smaller room.

      “Keep her there.  Be with you in a minute,” said the tall slender matron standing beside a gynecological table.  It was similar to the one Stacy’s doctor used, except it looked very old and worn and not that clean. 

     Stacy was shocked at what she and the male guard were watching.  A dark haired woman, Stacy took to be in her thirties, was lying on the table with her legs in the stirrups.  There were tattoos on her ankles and thighs.  Her skirt was up around her waist.  Her panty was lying on a nearby chair.  She looked scared.

     Don’t panic thought Stacy.  You have got to get through this somehow.  My God the Sergeant is watching them cavity search that woman.  I thought there were rules against male guards being present when women were searched.  Portia told me that in prison the guards make the rules and I can see it’s true.

     “Take a deep breath,” said Darlene her gloved hand poised at the entrance to the woman’s vagina. 

     The sound of the woman inhaling filled the room as the guard’s hand slipped past the ring of flesh surrounding the vaginal opening.

     “Fuck, you’re killing me,” said the woman groaning in pain.

     “Too bad,” said Darlene reaching even deeper inside the woman’s vagina.

     “You’re ripping my guts out,” protested the woman.

     “And what do we have here,” said Darlene removing her hand.  There was a small packet of white powder between the tips of the matron’s fingers.

     “Jesus, that’s not mine,” said the woman her raised head falling back on the table.

     “Do tell.  I suppose somebody filled your pussy with dope when you weren’t looking.  I didn’t get it all.  What did you do? Tamp it down with the end of a baseball bat?” said Darlene.

     “There’s no more.  I swear it,” said the woman starting to cry. 

     Stacy watched in amazement as the matron after applying more lubricant to her gloved hand reached deeper inside the woman.  This time she wasn’t as gentle and the woman whimpered in pain as she twisted back and forth on the table.  The matron’s hand held several of the small packets when it emerged.

     “Now your hole’s empty.  What you got up your butt, honey?” asked Darlene?

     “Nothing, I swear to God,” said the woman.

     “You can swear to God, Allah, and the Buddha but it ain’t going to keep me from putting my hand up your ass.”

     The woman groaned in pain as Darlene put a finger in her butthole.

      “Shit, you’re going to rip my asshole,” said the woman. “Ralph made me bring him the dope. He said he’d have his brother beat the shit out of me if I didn’t,” said the woman starting to cry

     “Take another deep breath.  This is going to hurt like the blazes,” said the matron as she guided her well-lubricated fingers past the opening then slowly and forcefully pushed them inside the woman’s rectum.

     Stacy stared open mouthed as the matron’s hand almost disappeared inside the woman’s anus, sliding in to her knuckles.

    “You’re ripping my butthole,” yelled the woman.

     “Like I give a shit.  I’ve already found enough drugs to put you in Bridgewater State until you collect Social Security.  I hope you like to eat pussy?  I got a girlfriend who works there.  She says all you can hear after lights out is the sound of women going down on each other.  Licking and slurping and moaning,” said Darlene twisting her arm to reach even deeper inside the woman’s bowel.

    Stacy watched as the woman clinched and unclenched her fists reacting to the intense pain.

     “Her butt’s clean.  Arrest her,” said Darlene ending the search by throwing her gloves into a container marked Medical Wastes Biohazard.

     “You, don’t move.  Stay right here,” said the Sergeant to Stacy as he walked toward the examination table.

     “You are under arrest for attempting to smuggle drugs into a state correctional facility, that’s a Class B Felony,” said Sergeant Simmons advancing toward the examination table as he removed his handcuffs from his belt.

     “You’re gonna arrest me?  I told you his fucking brother packed my pussy with dope,” said the woman starting to cry louder as she climbed off the table pushing her skirt down.  She was clinching her panty in one hand.

     “Tell it to the judge,” said Sergeant Simmons spinning the woman around to cuff her hands behind her back.  He wasn’t gentle about it either.  Stacy listened as the Sergeant repeated the Miranda warning to the woman.

     “Those are too tight.  Look if you let me go, I’ll meet you somewhere.  We can do anything you want,” said the woman when the Sergeant cuffed her.  Her desperation filled voice reminding Stacy of the night she was eager to have sex to avoid arrest.  I’ve been there and done that Stacy told herself.

     The fact Darlene was pointedly ignoring the woman’s offer to have sex with the guard surprised Stacy.  A woman is totally at their mercy decided Stacy.  They can plant drugs on her, rape her, do anything they want.

     “And what would we do?” asked the Sergeant.

     “Anything, just name it, oral, regular, anal, even kink if that’s what want.  Please, I’ll bring my sister.  She’s just turned sixteen.   She’s a real looker and she’s into three ways.  I got her picture in my purse,” said the woman speaking rapidly.

     “Will you do me too, honey,” asked Darlene smiling at the woman obviously enjoying her predicament?

     “Sure, actually I like girls better than guys,” said the woman.

     “Darlene and I will consider your offer, later. In the meantime, stand there and don’t move or speak.  I’ll be with you in a minute,” said the Sergeant placing the woman against a wall only a few steps away from the examination table.

     “Ok, miss, step forward to the table and remove your underpants,” said Darlene as she donned a fresh pair of gloves.

     Stacy walked quickly to the table, hiked up her skirt and slid her panty down her legs and off.

     “Bend over and spread your cheeks,” said Darlene.

     “What,” asked an uncomprehending Stacy?

     “Lean over, head on the table, reach your hands back and pull your buttocks apart.  Clear enough,” said Darlene.

     “Yes, Ma’am,” said Stacy placing the side of her face on the table as she reached back to separate her buttocks.  The fact the side of her face was lying on the unhygienic plastic surface her predecessor’s ass had just vacated was not lost on Stacy.  A noise behind her caused Stacy to turn her head back toward the door.  There was another male guard standing with a young female waiting her turn for a cavity search.  The girl was dressed like Stacy.

     “I see somebody’s been taking it up the ass,” said Darlene squeezing some lube on Stacy’s sphincter then working it into her anus.

     “Let me see,” said Sergeant Simmons stepping closer. “Oh yeah, this young lady favors the back door.”

     “Why? Is something wrong?” asked a panicked Stacy.

     “No, darling, you’re just a little red around the hole,” said Darlene.  “Nothing to get excited about.”

     “What do you charge for anal?” asked the Sergeant.

     “I’m not a prostitute.  I’m a college student,” said Stacy trying to relax as the matron’s fingers worked the lubricant into her sphincter.  Stacy groaned as her anal ring was stretched by the insertion of all four of Darlene’s fingers.

     “Where, Fuck Me U?” asked the Sergeant laughing.

     “Okay, you’re ready to be examined. Climb on the table and put your feet in the stirrups,” said Darlene.  “The Commonwealth has decided to perform a body cavity search.  You have the right to refuse but you will not be allowed a conjugal visit,” said Darlene wearily.

     “Go ahead, I have to see him,” said Stacy.

     “Must be a horny little bitch, anxious to get some prison cock in that back door of hers,” said Sergeant Simmons.

      Stacy closed her eyes as she placed her feet in the stirrups. 

     “Scoot down some,” ordered Darlene as she adjusted the stirrup arms.

      Stacy’s next sensation was the ice-cold anal speculum being forced past her sphincter. 

     “I only allow my Thomas in my backdoor on special occasions,” said Darlene as she squeezed the speculum handle opening Stacy’s anus to the maximum size the device allowed.

     “Christ, that hurts,” said Stacy reacting to the fiery pain. 

     “Three and one quarter inch spread usually does,” said Darlene setting the locking screw so the width was maintained.

     “Let me see,” said Sergeant Simmons shining a small flashlight inside Stacy’s rectum.

     “Any contraband,” asked Darlene?

     “I can’t tell.  You’ll have to search her manually,” said the Sergeant laughing.

     “First, let me get her coochie open,” said Darlene spreading Stacy’s vagina open with two gloved fingers then placing the nozzle of a plastic bottle of lubricant just inside the opening.

     “What is that,” asked Stacy feeling the substance trickle down inside her?

     “The cheapest bottle of pussy lube the Commonwealth’s Purchasing Department could find.  You should be pleased your tax dollars are being spent wisely,” said Darlene.

      “Use the large one,” said the Sergeant handing Darlene the largest of the four vaginal speculums lying on the instrument tray.

      “Take a deep breath,” said Darlene placing the end of the speculum inside Stacy’s vagina then pushing it inside to its maximum five and a half inch depth.

      “It’s cold and it pinches,” said Stacy.

      “As it should.  Now for the fun part,” said Darlene rapidly turning the screw to force the bill like end to slowly open to its maximum width.  Stacy twisted and writhed in pain as she felt her vagina expanding.

      “You’re going to put your hand inside me,” asked Stacy?

      “Most of it, lucky for you, I have the tinniest hands of all the matrons,” said Darlene holding up a glove covered hand.  My glove size is a petite in case you want to buy me a gift.”

    “Oh God,” said Stacy feeling Darlene’s fingers enter her opening

     “Breathe.  Try to relax.  So where do you study?” asked Darlene pushing several fingers inside Stacy.

     “Harvard, I’m studying international finance and pre law,” said Stacy finding it difficult not to cry out from the pressure she felt at the opening to her vagina.

     “Hear that, Sergeant, she’s going to Harvard,” said Darlene rotating her hand as she began to push hard.

     “Good school, it’s where I got my degree,” said the Sergeant.

     “I went to Yale myself,” said Darlene laughing as she forced her hand inside Stacy’s vagina.  Stacy could tell Darlene’s hand was almost inside her.   She could feel her long fingers searching for drugs.

      ”Looks like her pussy just fell in love with your arm.  See how she’s got her snatch wrapped around your hand,” said the Guard standing right beside Darlene.

     “Any of your girl friends ever fist fuck you, honey” asked Darlene moving her hand back and forth?

     “No,” said Stacy inhaling and exhaling deeply in an attempt to relax and gain control.

     “Does that feel good,” asked Darlene continuing to move her arm?

     “It’s getting there,” said Stacy feeling the tips of Darlene’s fingers move back and forth along her vaginal walls.

     “Christ, what a fucking whore,” said the handcuffed woman who had been watching intently.

     “Who said you could speak,” said the other guard spinning around?  As he turned, he removed the baton from his belt and slammed the end into the woman’s abdomen.  It was a practiced move; he’d executed dozens of times before on prisoners.  The woman made a rasping sound as her diaphragm expelled all the air from her lungs.  She crumpled to the floor in a tight ball.

     “You got anything else to say,” asked the Sergeant placing the toe of his polished uniform shoe on the tip of the woman’s breast then pressing down hard. 

     “No, I’m sorry,” said the woman writhing in pain as she clutched the Sergeant’s leg trying to dislodge it.

    “I didn’t think so,” said the Sergeant taking hold of the woman’s hair to lift her off the floor.  “Now stand there and don’t say another word or I’ll be forced to engage in guard brutality.”

     The woman leaned against the wall one hand across her stomach the other clutching her injured mammary.

     “Go ahead, Darlene.  Sorry for the interruption,” said the Sergeant.

     Darlene had not been interrupted.  She had managed to increase the proportion of her hand inside Stacy’s vagina.

     “You still got a strong young pussy, girl.  Lots of the whores I search are loose inside,”

     “Fist her, Darlene. Harvard girls love the feel of a fist in their twat,” said the Sergeant who was getting turned on.

     “I’ve heard that too,” said Darlene making a fist inside Stacy’s vagina while starting to rub her clit with her other hand.

     “Oh God, it hurts but it feels good too,” said Stacy as she felt a large blunt object pushing out the walls of her vagina.  Stacy tried not to panic as Darlene’s knuckles reached the walls of her uterus.

     “It’s supposed to hurt and feel good at the same time.  Just loosening you up for your conjugal visit.  I hope your stud isn’t expecting your pussy to be real tight.  She’s clean,” said Darlene withdrawing an empty hand. Stacy sighed in relief.

    “Damn I was hoping Miss Harvard here was carrying.  Then we could arrest her too,” said the Sergeant.  “Maybe she’s also got a younger sister who loves to fuck prison guards.”

     “I could always stick one of these up her cunt and pull it out.  There’s enough to share,” said Darlene picking up the evidence bag containing the other woman’s packets of drugs.

     “No, please,” said Stacy on the verge of panic.

     “We’re just fucking with you, baby,” said the Sergeant laughing.

     “Now for your other orifice.  Take a deep breath then slowly let it out,” said Darlene squeezing the handle of the anal speculum to increase the opening.

    “Amazing how wide the human asshole can get,” said the Sergeant watching Darlene as she forced her fingers inside Stacy’s rectum.  “There’s a guy in Cell Block 16 who can take two fists in his butt at the same time.”  Stacy moaned when she felt Darlene’s fingers slip into her rectum. 

     “Breathe,” advised Darlene as she pushed hard to force her hand past Stacy’s sphincter.

     Stacy inhaled for eight seconds then slowly exhaled for eight seconds.  The pain of having someone’s entire hand inside her bowel was close to unbearable.

     “Weird feeling, isn’t it,” asked Darlene pushing her hand further inside.

     “The weirdest,” said Stacy.

     “Hurry up, quick fucking around,” said the guard standing in the doorway.  “We’ve got three more sets of holes to search.”

     When Stacy looked in their direction, she saw that two guards and three women were watching.  All three were young and attractive.  One of the women looked frightened out of her mind.

     “She’s clean.  Put your britches back on and go out that door,” said Darlene quickly removing both speculums.

     Stacy felt a wave of physical relief when the medical instruments were removed.  There was still a dull ache deep inside her vagina and rectum. Feeling unsteady on her feet, she held on to the examination table with one hand as she used the other to help her step into her panty.  A petite brunette was leaning face down spreading her buttocks for Darlene before Stacy managed to finish and walk toward the exit door.

     As she left the room, she heard Sergeant Simmons speak to his prisoner.  “What does your sister look like?  Let’s see her picture.”