Monica MechanicChapter 9 Reunions
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In-correctionChapter 6 free porn video
I was surprised when Jones returned, bringing me a tray of food. It was a little cold, making me think I was the last to get served. When she came back for the tray, she handed me linen and a pillow. She never spoke a word and I chalked it up to the fact that she was, in her own words, back on duty.
I sat for what seemed like hours, listening to the drips of water echo in the hallway. No books or papers to keep me entertained. Only the memory of Casey and Jones to occupy my mind. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I would have done things differently if I could do it all over again.
By the time the last meal came down, I was pretty depressed about my situation. Jones slid it under the door and said, “Eat up!”
I put my head in my hand and sulked, looking down at the floor.
“Better eat, you’re going to need the energy.” she advised.
I looked at the unappealing tray and back at the floor. It was probably cold anyway.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” she stated, and walked away.
Hearing the heavy door at the end slam shut, I looked back at the tray. At least the juice could be cold so I picked it up. Without anything else to do, I read the sides of the drink. After that, I opened it up and drank it. After that, I read the sides again.
After getting bored from reading it over and over, I tossed it back on the tray. Laying back on the sheets, I dozed off. It couldn’t have been too long until the heavy door slammed again. Thinking they were coming for the tray, I just laid there.
Footsteps approached and stopped at my cell. I was determined to let the tray sit. If they wanted it, they could open the damn door and get it themselves.
“Come now Mr. Darling. Not eating will hurt you more than me.” Warden Kobe reasoned.
I looked up to see the woman that had me tossed in the hole. Wearing a coat and carrying a briefcase, it looked like she was leaving for the day. I laid my head back down and ignored her.
“Most interesting development in your incarceration.” she mused, and I heard the briefcase locks open. “The arresting officer made the mistake.” she continued, as if it was something I was interested in.
After a moment of silence, she asked, “Do you know your Social Security number?” and got no response from me. “No matter, the officer didn’t know either.” and I heard her close the locks on her briefcase. “He made the numbers up, they don’t belong to anyone.”
I heard something slide under the door. “This is for you. It’ll give you something to do.”
I looked down at a book lying beside the tray and then back up to the wire mesh supporting the upper mattress.
“Well, I have a date with a steak and wine.” she quipped, “Have a good night.”
“How long are you keeping me here?” I asked, not bothering to look at her.
“Oh, I guess since Tonya Darling doesn’t really exist, it’s as long as I want.” she quipped.
She had me there. If there was nothing on paper about Tony Allen Darling, then there was no proof I was even arrested. But her remark infuriated me and I seethed, “Fuck you.” at her.
With a huff, she said, “Sex is all men think about.” and added, “Besides, wouldn’t I have to trust you first?”
“About like I trust you.” I snapped back.
“Well, I might have a use for you.” she admitted, “You help me and I’ll help you. We both can build up our trust for each other.”
“More like I help you and you fuck me.” I imagined out loud.
“Nonsense.” she disputed, “I could never fuck you as good as Officer Jones did.” and walked away.
She was watching everything. The guards might not have seen it on their monitors but she probably had it right there on her desk! I jumped up and grabbed the bars, “You saw it!” I yelled, straining to see her. “You let her rape me!”
“Ridiculous.”” she called back, “You can’t rape the willing.” opening the door.
“I’ll rape you then!” I threatened, not expecting a response.
“You can’t rape the willing!” she sang, and the slam of the door ended our exchange.
‘What the hell does that even mean?’ I thought, wondering if she was actually willing.
I looked down at the book she slid into my cell. The title was G.E.D. Strategies, Practice & Review. That gave me a glimmer of hope, leaving the possibility of getting the one document that could lead to a job. Since stealing seemed to be one of my poorest skills, I should probably try earning the money instead.
I started in on reading it and heard the door again. This time, I was sure they were coming for the tray. I heard the shoes approach and was somewhat surprised to see Jones.
“Hey, I thought you’d be gone by now.” I greeted, sitting the book down on the cot.
“Not till six.” she replied, “You didn’t eat.”
“I drank the juice.” I pointed out, sliding the tray under the door with my foot.
She slid the tray back in and said, “Eat the pudding.”
“Oh, no thanks.” I declined, and slid the tray back out.
Like some sort of magic trick or quick draw, the baton expanded in her hand. “Eat the damn pudding!” she ordered, and kicked the tray back under the door.
I was shocked and asked, “Are you serious?”
“Do you want to find out?” she snapped back, tapping the baton in the palm of her empty hand.
“Ok.” I caved. My asshole puckered at the sight of that baton, reminding me that it hadn’t yet recovered from the last time I defied her. I picked up the tray with one hand and the plastic spoon with the other. I woofed it down, ignoring the bland taste, and put the spoon back down.
“Happy?” I asked, sliding it back under the door.
“I better be.” she huffed, picking the tray up off of the floor. Stepping closer to the door, she advised, “Be good to my relief.” and walked away.
“Is she going to be good to me?” I asked, watching her twirl her baton.
“Not nearly as good as I was.” she shot back.
She had a mean streak alright. I was beginning to think she only liked me for my body. I guessed if I was a female, I wouldn’t have gotten the time of day from her.
I went back to my reading and knocked out a couple of chapters. I never really understood how studying worked. It seemed that reading something a few times worked better for me than trying to remember names and places.
In all honesty, I had to be grateful for the book and it was interesting to boot. After lying in one place so long, I had to put the book down. Time was going by so slow in there, minutes seemed like hours. I dozed off again and woke at the sound of the door.
Sitting up, I immediately became aware of a hard-on. Thinking back, it was the fantasy of paying back Jones that had me excited. I thought she would look sexy with her baton sticking out of her cunt. Hell, I thought she looked sexy no matter what you did to her really.
Footsteps approached and I thought it might be her, not having a clue what time it was. It could be the next day for all I knew. I laid there and waited, not caring about the pup tent in my pants. At least it was something to signify the difference between me and everyone else.
A guard stopped at my cell and looked in. I looked at the large-breasted girl with dimples on her cheeks. Nowhere near as thin as Jones, she was quite a bit shorter in height too. I watched her eyes travel down and look at my crotch and then back to my eyes.
“You Darling?” she asked, grabbing the door bars.
“The one and only.” I shot back.
“Time for showers.” she informed me, and unlocked the door.
“I guess you’re Jones’ relief?” I asked, standing up.
“The myth, the legend.” she replied, and added a chuckle at the end.
I stepped out to a Latin guard no taller than my chin. I guess with guard work, size didn’t matter. She probably had some training and maybe she could take on the female inmates. She had some meat on her bones so maybe that gave her an advantage as well. With such heavy breasts though, they had to get in the way. Even the button up shirt was straining to contain them. It was probably the reason she had it unbuttoned so far down. I could make out Miles on her name tag.
Noticing me checking her out, she asked, “Planning on running?”
“Nope, got no place else to run to.” I replied, stepping out beside her.
“Good.” she chirped, “I hate running.” and closed the door.
“Worked here long?” I asked, trying to break the ice.
She grabbed my arm and marched me further down the hallway. “Long enough, I guess.” she replied, “The warden is my aunt.” she explained, offering me the lead.
Nepotism, seemed to be a good way to get a job somewhere. I guess if I wanted to be a drug dealer, my family could have probably help with that goal.
We turned a corner and came to two stalls boasting rusted spray nozzles with a like-wise rusted drain cover for the water. Used soap and almost empty bottles of shampoo sat on the ledge. Either they worked hard to make the experience as horrendous as possible or they just neglected cleaning and maintaining it from a lack of caring. One thing was sure, the lack of use was clearly evident in the rust.
“Strip.”” she ordered, motioning at my clothes.
Looking back at her, I had to wonder if she knew what she was asking. But, since she didn’t seem too surprised at my bulge, she might as well see the full monte. I pulled the smock off and laid it on the bench. Standing up straight, I grabbed the elastic of my pants. For some reason, my erection hadn’t subsided any, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I pulled out the front and then pulled down, cupping it under my balls.
She didn’t move a muscle except she unconsciously licked her lips. She watched me get out of the shoes and pants and place them on the bench. She motioned towards the shower and I stepped in. Turning on the water, a spurt of rusty water came out. Stepping back away from it, I waited until it cleared up. After some time, the water warmed up as well.
I turned around with my back to the water and grabbed the soap. She watched me lather up. It was pretty awkward but I wasn’t going to be humiliated. I looked her in the eyes as I stroked my hard-on with the soap. She couldn’t keep her expression unemotional and bit her bottom lip. She looked at my junk, like staring at candy. At least she had some reaction, unlike Jones, who was completely unreadable.
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