Kappy Son of KaptainChapter 11
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Not even the drab gray :Detention Home uniform she wore could hide the lovely, honey-blonde haired girl's young voluptuous curves as she walked along the dingy corridor ahead of the ugly- faced Chief Matron. With striking, wide green eyes alertly acknowledging unspoken words of encouragement from sister inmates framed in the barred openings behind locked cell doors, and with the firm little chin of her angelically beautiful, teenaged face held proudly high, Jean Wilson moved with a defiant, almost haughty gratefulness that neither the corrupt institution nor its depraved keepers had been able to strip from her in the short period she had been imprisoned.
Her wealth of long golden hair tumbling about her softly sloping, feminine shoulders created a vestal-like aureole belying the sensuous enticement of her high-set firmly thrusting young breasts and the gentle, provocative sway to her smoothly rounded hips and buttocks, and she was not unaware of the burning, lecherous eyes of her keeper hungrily undressing her from behind as she walked. She had already been schooled by her cellmates, Sandy Jarvis and Carla Montez, as to the lustfully perverted character of the ugly-faced, middle-aged woman. But, as her young informers had advised, the chances of falling, or being "tossed," into the woman's hands were small as long as one pleased the madam Superintendent and her equally lecherous, handsome spouse, the state Director of Correction, a horrifying plight that both she and her young husband, Ken, had already been subjected to.
In fact, at that very moment, Jean's unemotional expression was but a facade hiding the inner turmoil of fear, degradation, and heartbreak that had raged constantly within her since her awakening from the drugged stupor Maggie and Max Keele had forced upon both Ken and herself only days before. She could still barely comprehend the obscene sexual abuses they had been slavishly made to endure at the hands of an evil group of older men and women called the Spaxtons. That their tormentors had been wealthy and influential state officials of prominence only added to her sense of helplessness; yet, as morally shattered and fitfully despondent as she was, the determination to fight and resist them still burned intently within her curvaceous young body, and to all outward appearances she was far from being the mind-broken sexual tool the stunningly beautiful Maggie Keele made of her unfortunate inmates.
"This way, Wilson," the big boned, heavy breasted matron known to Jean only as Seybor ordered, guiding her onto an elevator with a painful knuckle in the small of her back. "And I'd advise you to drop that snooty, stuck-up chin of yours a couple of inches before you walk into the Super's suite. You ought to have learned by now that she doesn't take kindly to smart-assed young pussy like you, oh?"
Jean made no motion of acknowledgment to Seybor's lewdly phrased statement, though she was well aware that what the coarse woman had said was all too true. Whether it was a youthful envy, or plain sadistic degeneracy on the part of the statuesque superintendent, she didn't know and hardly cared. Her one concern was, and had been, since emerging from her drugged coma, only of her twenty-year-old husband, whom they had framed on false drug charges as they had her, then had committed to a prison upstate. Because of her age, seventeen, and for obvious other reasons befitting their lustful desires, Maggie and Max Keele had seen to it that she had been put in the Home.
God, she could still hardly believe the deplorably sordid course of events which had placed her on that elevator ascending them upward to the raven-haired superintendent's personal suite... another impregnable den like the Keele private home some five hundred years from the institution. A shudder of cold apprehension rippled over Jean's soft, satiny flesh beneath the plain, unattractive uniform. She had no idea why the austerely ravishing official had taken such a dislike to her from the very beginning, when she and Ken had been ordered to serve out their probationary sentences as domestic servants in their private home. But she unquestionably had... and then had seductively coerced Ken into illicit sex, while the handsome Director had raped... or at the very least, blackmailed her into a wantonly shameful sexual performance she would never be able to wipe from her memory, any more than she would the unbelievable bestial acts with their dog, Kappy, that she had been a part of later on...
"You know, Wilson, if you'd just smarten up a bit and be nice to the right people around here, you'd have it made," Seybor suggested, interrupting the exquisite blonde teenager's anguished thoughts, a lurid half-grin playing around her homely, thin-lipped mouth.
Immediately, a feeling of repugnance washed through Jean's tremulous belly at the obvious meaning of the big Chief Matron's advice, but she tried to ignore it. All the same, it brought to memory the way she had run from the bedroom of Maggie Keele that night of the terrible Spaxton meeting when the Superintendent, enticingly naked, had nearly mesmerized her into a revolting lesbian act... and this, too, Jean realized, the stunning official had not forgiven her for. She couldn't help but wonder with that abominable experience plaguing her, why the woman had sent for her, or what dreaded thing lay ahead...
Abruptly, her thoughts were once more severed as she felt the hot, heavy hand of the homely matron smooth caressingly over the soft curve of one rounded, resilient buttock, and every muscle in her young voluptuous body tautened abhorrence. Her reflexive action was automatic as she pivoted and slapped the older woman sharply across the face.
"Damn you! Don't you ever put your filthy hands on me again!" Jean spat through clenched white teeth.
Momentarily stunned, Seybor could only stare in shocked awe at her lovely young prisoner. Then: "Why... why you stupid little bitch!" she snarled in growing rage, her big unfeminine hand covering the red splotch on her stinging cheek. "I'll break your stuck-up ass for that... !"
Realization of her unforgivable mistake stuck Jean with the force of a paralyzing blow as the bigger woman started to grab her, but simultaneously, the elevator doors opened and the enraged Chief Matron caught herself, her small, red-rimmed eyes -blazing with vehement hatred. Viciously, she licked at her lips that were drained of blood, then slowly stretched them into a wicked leer.
"I-I'm sorry..." Jean stammered, the fearful apology tumbling from her lush, trembling lips. "I-I didn't mean..."
"You'll be sorrier, bitch!" Seybor whispered raspily, the humorless grin never leaving her distorted, heavy-jawed face. "Now, I know I'm going to get you... but I can wait... Just remember that, I can wait... and when you're least expecting it... I'll be there!" She laughed then, a lasciviously frightening sound that caused a series of icy chills to race along Jean's spine. "Come on, you stupid little cunt!" she ordered, jerking the young girl from the elevator with a cruel hand grasping her small wrist in a vise-like grip. "I'll wait my turn."
Jean was too upset to further resist the ill-tempered, enraged Seybor's rough handling even had she dared. She stood meekly by the large metal desk in the outer office which the elevator opened into, the nebulous thought occurring to her that the lift itself was the only accessible means to Maggie Keele's private suite and this, the Chief Matron's office. Tenaciously, she raised her chin once more, determined to carry off her false courageous front even though the turmoil seething inside her had driven her to the brink of desperate tears. Dear God, what was to happen next... ?
"Mrs. Keele, I have Wilson here," the ugly-featured keeper spoke into an intercom unit, never taking her angrily inflamed eyes from the young blonde girl's resolute face.
"Good... bring her in, Seybor," Jean heard the superintendent's throaty voice order, this followed by a buzzing sound that released the electric lock on the metal door before her. The harrier slid open and suddenly she felt Seybor's knuckle jab painfully into the small of her back once more, thrusting her forward into the unexpected splendor of the luxuriously appointed suite, the heavy door quickly closing with a decisive click behind her.
Jean saw the raven-haired, ivory skinned beauty then, but not behind a desk as she had anticipated, nor dressed in the customary clothing a woman of her position might be expected to wear. There was such an office-like arrangement in a small alcove at one corner of the spacious, grandly furnished room, but Maggie Keele day indolently sprawled on a satin-pillowed sofa at the opposite end, a flowing, diaphanous black negligee the obvious single garment covering her soft, lithe nakedness. A tall, cool-looking drink sat upon a small table beside her, and on the floor rested the handsome German shepherd dog, Kappy, a noble animal which Jean had already been so humiliatingly introduced to.
The gallant brute arose to its feet and began wagging its tail as if in recognition of her, and Jean couldn't deny the vague sensations of excitement the sight of him aroused in her young belly and loins, as well as in the deep recesses of her brain; yet, it still seemed like some outrageous dream born out of the drugged state she had unwittingly been subjected to.
"Well, it appears that Kappy remembers your little affair, Jean darling," the striking, sensually clad brunette meaningfully greeted, a lewd overtone to her smoky voice, while her dark-onyx eyes sparkled as they swept lecherously up and down the lovely blonde girl's unhideable soft curves. "Come over here beside me. I want to look closer at you. And you, Kappy, lie down."
Jean did, but hesitantly, pausing several feet from the plush sofa as the German shepherd responded to its mistress' command. She saw then that what she had first surmised was so: the Superintendent's voluptuous white nakedness was alluringly visible through the wispy veil of the sheer negligee covering her. Though she had to be fortyish, her rounded full breasts were erect mounds of enviably firm white flesh, their nipple-capped peaks hardened, berry-like buds. Jean couldn't limp her eyes from trailing downward to her flat belly and the narrow slenderness of her waist and further to the enticing flare of her hips. Her long, shapely legs rested one over the other at the ankles, her rounded, full white thighs erotically enhanced by the soft black curls of pubic hair enshadowing their juncture. Nervously, Jean fidgeted with her hands, the unexpected exhibitionism taking her off-guard and momentarily, as it had before in the woman's bedroom, briefly hypnotizing her.
"What's wrong, dear? Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before? Or, perhaps it's just that I sensually arouse you... is that it?" Maggie Keele taunted, stirring languorously to provoke her ivory-white charms into inciting ripples beneath the flimsy material.
Jean felt her cheeks flushing hotly at the smirking woman's insinuation. The spell was broken. All of the emotional turbulence she had entered there with suddenly churned again inside her, and this accompanied with a newborn raging anger at the lecherous Superintendent's implied meaning.
"What are you trying to do to us?" she flung at her hedonistic tauntress. "And why... why?"
"Do to you... ?" Maggie repeated, the inflection of her husky voice suggesting astonishment. She tilted her head slightly where it rested against the fluffed satin of the pillow and let her sparkling eyes soften. "My dear, I thought you understood that I'm only trying to help you. That's why I had Seybor bring you here to me...
"Then why did you separate Ken and me? And why did you have him sent upstate to the prison?" Jean shot at her, struggling desperately to hold back the flow of tears which were ready to burst from her young emotion-filled eyes. "We did nothing and you know it! We were drugged right out of our minds, and you... all of you and your terrible Spaxtons used us like animals... worse than animals... !"
"All right, that will do, Wilson!" Maggie Keele retaliated, her throaty voice suddenly growing sharp with authoritative impatience. She raised to a sitting position, swinging her small feet to the floor, the negligee falling carelessly open to expose nearly all of her naked, fully rounded breasts and a good measure of ivory white thighs almost to the exotic crest of her silken, hair-adorned loins. "I doubt that you're so stupidly naive as to think that anyone would believe such a story. In fact, weren't the two of you arrested in the first place for possession of marijuana?"
"No, we were not!" Jean defended. "A boy that we had just met had some, but Ken and I had no idea..."
"Of course," Maggie said, cutting the lovely blonde girl short and gaining her feet. "The detention homes and prisons are filled with innocent people like you who swear they were framed." The ravishing brunette picked up her tall drink and sipped from it, making no effort to draw the loosened folds of her wispy negligee over the revealed, smooth white flesh of her sensuously displayed curves. "In both you and your husband's case, you violated the probationary sentences that Mr. Keele, in his kindness, managed to obtain for you by again using drugs in our home. So, that's why you're here and Ken is in prison;"
"But... dear God, I tell you we didn't and never have used anything like that," Jean pathetically insisted, the tears uncontrollably spilling down her soft, teenaged cheeks. "We were drugged, Mrs. Keele... and you know it! Oh God... please... please let us go... or at least, help Ken get out of that awful prison... ?"
This was the moment that Maggie Keele had been waiting for, that first touching instant of pitiableness when they began to beg, and a ripple of sadistically lecherous excitement raced through her insatiable, almost naked loins and belly. She had the luscious little bitch now, had her at last ready to crawl... anything to save her husband, and she intended to savor every delicious moment of it.
"Well now... do I understand that you're begging me, Jean darling?" the raven-haired Superintendent derisively put to her as she sipped again from her glass. She half-smiled vindictively, the obscene thoughts filling her mind causing her onyx eyes to gleam with wanton lust. The voluptuous young bitch, she wouldn't... couldn't run from her this time!
"Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes... I'm praying to you," Jean whimpered, wiping at her eyes with a facial tissue from her pocket, refusing to listen to the inner voice of her own better judgment. Anything... any price wasn't too great for this boy she loved... "Please... please help... ?"
Maggie moistened her sensuous lips with the pink tip of her wet tongue. "And if I should, what do you offer in return, my dear?"
An icy tingle of dread shivered upward along Jean's spine. There wasn't the slightest inkling of a doubt in her tormented young mind of what nature the ravishing lecheress' demands would be. She stared with mounting apprehension into the beautiful woman's waiting, licentious eyes, while inwardly she prayed for the strength to do whatever would be expected of her. Oh God...
"A-Anything... whatever is necessary..." Jean finally whispered, chokingly. "B-But you must promise me that Ken will be freed..."
"We'll discuss that part of it later, Jean darling," Maggie hissed, moving close to the girl until they nearly touched. "Would you like a drink or something first? I have some pot if you prefer. It might help... like the acid did at the party."
Jean gaped at her. She had given herself away... openly admitted to drugging them... the very reason Ken was in prison and she there in her horrible situation at that very moment... yet there was absolutely nothing she could do about it... nothing, only give herself to the vile whims of this lust-filled woman if she wanted to help her imprisoned husband... !
"Well, speak up, damn it!" Maggie rasped impatiently. "Drink, pot... what?"
"Oh God..." Jean whimpered in confusion. She was no drinker, and she'd truly never used drugs of any kind, but whatever sang- froid and determination she had entered the female official's suite with had completely deserted her. She had to have something to rebolster her courage or she would never be able to go through with it. "Yes... yes, the marijuana..."
Maggie took a step backward, a snide smirk creeping over her severely perfect features. "So, the little girl who has never used drugs chooses grass. Now, that's funny... really funny."
Jean didn't bother to answer the woman's taunting remarks. She knew it would be useless. Her choice had been based on the information Ken had once casually passed to her, along with other young people she had known. It was, they said, the lesser of the two evils, and right at that dread-filled moment she wanted only an immunity of feelings from whatever deplorable act was to come. Subconsciously, she watched the enticingly voluptuous superintendent move away from her toward a small table, her veiled, naked loveliness provocatively visible as she walked, the rounded fullness of her lush buttocks quivering with each step, the shadowed crevice separating them raising a strange, unexplainable sensation deep inside Jean's tense young belly.
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