High Society to Chain Gang

I tried to make her see sense but no the blacksmith came and he ringed her ankles with irons and then he hammered the rivets through cold, just bashed them with a big hammer against an anvil that took two guards to carry, and then they fixed a short chain between the ankle iron and took her away, hobbling, as the chains stopped her striding out and incongruous with her film star face and filthy uniform and as se walked the dirt sticking to her deliciously pink but bare feet.

Tuesday 26th August 1930.

I collected up her assets as far as I could, her folks were inconsolable, they lent her their savings and more on the promise that Meyer would wire some funds, but I did a deal, I felt sorry for them, but still it seemed sad when they boarded the west bound train with just a couple of suitcases headed for a new life in California.

She wasn't due many visits but as receiver I got extra days, she didn't look like a film star anymore when I saw her again, her hair was a mess, she was filthy and she stunk, and she was completely focused on Toby coming up with the cash.

I had her sign some forms and that was the end of that chapter, and even though we sold everything of hers at auction we only made eight cents on the dollar off what she owed.

It wasn't worth pursuing so we let it lie, unless Toby put in an appearance that was.

I made enquiries, thing was Toby Meyer had debts of millions, he had at least three previous wives and, so it seemed, no record of divorcing number three, and was living in Switzerland with wife number three.

I never said a word to Jane about it, just put it from my mind, an ageing woman held in by corsets, she wasn't my Jane anymore.

September 30th 1932, Tuesday. 10.32 am

The chain gang were sweeping the street, there were were eight of them, all in striped dresses, shackled by their ankles, all filthy, "Hello John," one said as I passed, I turned to see the overseer strike her with his whip, I did a double take. It was Jane, Mrs Meyer, all filthy and barefoot and chained by her ankles to the girls each side of her, but there as something different about her.

I stopped and walked back,I stopped right in front of her, and spoke to the overseer, "You're twenty seven dollars overdrawn Mr Hawkins, you want to do that again." I said, not that I had a clue but it sounded good.

"Sir?" he said.

"You want to me to foreclose, then you go right ahead and whip her." I said, "Girl is just being respectful, maybe she should have said sir but hey, so next time I come by I expect you all to stop and say Hello Sir."

"Ah sure Mr Lawson," he said.

"Ah, Jane, you keeping well," I asked.

"Answer the man," Hawkins ordered.

"Yes, we get treated very well and the food is good." she said.

"Liar," I said, "Good day," and I strode away, I knew she was in jail but to find her on the chain gang was a massive shock, I made it my business to check out Hawkins finances, he was just about hanging in there, paying last months bills with this months pay check, and he had a house to re finance pretty soon.

September 31st 1930, Wednesday. 10.00 am.

I saw them again Wednesday, sweeping the dirt street, a pointless task, except one had a black eye, Jane, she had been hit and hard.

But that black eye wasn't what interested me. No she had a different dress now, smaller, tight over her breasts and tight over her belly, and her belly looked mighty flat, like it used to when we went skinny dipping it was like I had my Jane back.

I went and made enquiries, I figured Hawkins hit her but he denied everything, "Well, you better think before you need that re finance," I warned him.

"It's your fault," he said, "Taking an interest in her, the other girls don't like that."

"Right," I said, "Makes sense," I agreed, "Where do you eat?" I asked.

"Oh, right a shack by the railroad, why?" he asked.

"Well maybe I could have some alone time with her," I suggested.

"Sure," he said, "Tomorrow, One o'clock."

October 2nd 1930, Wednesday Noon.

I dressed for the occasion, my old suit seemed about right, and I bought a dozen fried chicken legs from the restaurant as the called the Cafe on main street, and then I strolled right on down the railroad.

I waited by a shack alongside a side track where there were benches and sure enough around one they came stumbling and shuffling along the dirt road, Hawkins followed with his carbine, thats a short barrelled repeating rifle, and they shuffled in.

The food was there already, crawling with bugs, just bread and cheese, mouldy cheese, way away past its best, and they went in and sat on benches each side of the table.

There was a big ugly woman called Frieda Harris, she seemed like queen bee in the gang, I offered Hawkins first pick of the chicken, so I asked Hawkins if she called the shots.

"Sure does," he laughed, "But what in the hell did you get all this food for?" He asked.

"Quiet time." I told him. "You didn't see anything right?"

"Yes sir." he agreed.

I stepped into the gloom, "You want to earn some food?" I asked, "Fried chicken,"

"Who wants to know?" Frieda asked.

"John Lawson, manager at Grays bank," I replied.

"So what do you want from us?" she asked.

"Surely that's obvious?" I asked, "Look the other way while I get acquainted with my old pal

Jane." I said.

"What miss high an mighty?" Frieda asked incredulously, "You wanna do sex with miss high and mighty?"

"Well no. I just wanted to talk," I admitted, "But yeah," I agreed, "You just look the other way and eat your chicken."

"No, oh god not that no way!" Jane insisted.

"Look sister, if you have to fuck so we eat then you fuck understand." Frieda insisted, "On the table with her girls.

She never had a chance they dragged her on the table and with her ankles chained to the girls next to her she couldn't even keep her legs closed.

"Food?" Frieda insisted so I handed over all the food except two chicken legs and then I dropped my pants, I wondered how to get her underwear off but the other girls had rucked her dress up around her breasts and I saw she never wore any underwear and her breasts and belly looked so toned and fit that by the time the girls had their food my good intentions had flown away and I was all set to screw Mrs Meyer.

"John," she said as she lay there "If you have any consideration for me please don't do this." she pleaded, I just pulled her to the edge of the table and sought out her sex, I got a thumb inside then two and three fingers, and finally she was getting the idea and started to juice up.

"John," she said as I got my tool against her sex lips, "Can I have some chicken?"

"Sure," I said, "I kept you one." I reached out for it and she started gnawing on it, and even as I parted her sex lips and shoved my length inside her she was munching chicken.

"Oh that's so good," she said, I felt real good until I realised she meant the food not me.

"I'm going to fuck that money you owe the bank out of you for a dollar a fuck," I whispered, "Ten, eleven, twelve," I counted as I thrust into her.

"Do you know, I just don't care anymore," she said, and she burped in my face, "Oops sorry," she said and suddenly she was the girl I knew from when we were kids again.

I think she sensed a change too because she threw the chicken bones away and she held me to her as I started to pump my jism deep in her.

I guess I grunted, "Right mister you get out of there," Frieda insisted and she dragged me off of Jane as I struggled to pull my pants up, "You come back any time," she suggested, "Any time you got something tasty to eat."

I felt a great weight lifted off me, I don't know why, but it was like I ticked a box, something I had needed to do, and now I had done it I wanted to do it again.

I wasn't the only one either, not Jane, but her friends, and the overseer Hawkins, they all wanted a free meal and that's why the sweeping came to be daily, not every now and again.

October 3rd 1930 Friday.

I saw the chain gang sweeping their useless way towards the Bank, I meant to see what I could do for Jane, or was it Jayne but I never got around to it, and there she was, standing there looking at me as I looked at her, I remembered her as she had been, not all glamoured up like a film star but my friend from childhood, all grubby and in need of a bath, she paused too long and got a tap from Hawkins for her pains.

"You want some more?" Frieda whispered, "Show the Gentleman what he's missing Mrs high and mighty," she whispered.

"No!" Jane protested.

"Shell, Carol, let's remind the Gentleman what our Miss high and mighty has to offer," Frieda ordered.

I watched as if in a trance as the girls each side of Jane took one of her hands each and then they grasped the hem of her striped dress and lifted it high, so high that they even showed her delightful breasts and her sex now seemingly shorn of its triangle of blonde fur.

She stared at me, was it in hope or fear, I knew not but she stared at me throughout the fraction of a second that she was displayed to me, and indeed anyone else who was watching.

I broke the moment by turning away, they would be back in jail by this evening, I had appointments, "Tuesday," I said as Frieda swept her way past, she grinned.

October 7th 1930, Tuesday.

They were sent to fill in pot holes along the highway that week, it was pure luck of a sort that I found them three miles or so east of the railroad crossing, all working away.

I stopped just by them, "No need to ask what you want Mr Lawson," Hawkins leered.

"Indeed Mr Hawkins," I agreed, "Will ten dollars be acceptable?"

"Sure," he said, "What about the girls?"

"Sausages ok?" I asked.

"Sure, up front," Frieda said, and then she burst out laughing.

I went back to town and got myself a whole heap of pork sausages, and hurried back, as fast a model A Ford would go that is, trouble was there was no shack, nor no cover, but hell you know how it is, I wanted her, damn it I needed her.

"You best lean against that tree," Hawkins said to Jane with a leer as I brought the basket of sausages."

"I'm not a whore!" she protested.

"Fuck or get beat up," I suggested, "You don't fuck your friends don't eat and that ain't fair."

She never had any chance to not fuck they pushed her against the tree, held her hands out the way sread her legs for her and pulled up her skirt, "She's all ready and willing," Frieda said as she waggled a glistening index finger at me, "I warmed her up for you."

"Mrs Meyer, you want a sausage?" I asked.

"It's Jayne," she said, "I'm starving," so I gave her a juicy pork sausage to eat and dropped my pants and slid my meat deep inside her but it was odd screwing her against the tree, near stood up while she wolfed down a pork sausage and Frieda was right, she was warmed up all right, she was on fire, and there is only one cure for a girl afire, and that's a good solid jet of jism.

"You'll get me in trouble," Jayne complained.

"Sure, you been beat since we started screwing?" I asked her.

"No," she said, "but they shaved me when I got your jism in my hairs," she admitted, "But it's wrong John I'm a married woman!" she protested.

"Should have married me," I told her, and I let fly that stream of jism she needed oh so bad, "You should have married me."

"Yes, you should have asked." she said, "Damn you!"

"I guess your barren anyway," I said nastily.

"We always use French letters," she said, "Toby already has kids." she said and she sounded so sad.

"Shit," I muttered, but it was time to get cleaned up and back to work.

October 17th 1930 Friday.

The chain gang never came so I went looking for them, I took some bread rolls with pork sausages,and found them weeding a Potato field, there was no cover anywhere around but I paid the man and the girls just took Jayne's dress right off her to keep it clean and she lay down right there in the dirt completely naked while the women stood round.

She smiled at me and held her arms out, "I didn't think you would come." she whispered.

"I haven't yet!" I told her, as I took a couple of potato sacks to kneel on and I just eased myself down on her and the girls watched as I slid my swollen tool deep in her, down deep in that sweet pink hairless heaven, hell I was so wrapped in her I never cared that those bitches were staring at my hairy ass as I pleasured her, and Jayne, why she was as hot and eager as a bitch on heat that she even forgot her food till I reminded her.

"It's like petting down by the creek," she said, "But better."

"Maybe you'll remember me when you get back East?" I suggested

"Don't" she said, "Just live for the moment."

"Hey buster," Frieda said when I climbed off, "You want to check her dates."

October 24th 1930 Friday.

It was becoming a habit, and too many folks knew about it, me and Jayne screwing when she was supposed to be in Jail, and when I came back to the Bank on Friday all muddied up after handing out meat pies and screwing her under a tree in a rain storm, just one lone tree in the potato field with the girls clustered round watching like they was a part of it, and me and her just concerned with ourselves and nothing else like we was kids again, but I knew it had to end, hell I wanted her every day, I couldn't think of nothing else and no other girl really did it for me any more.

That's when I started checking dates, under state law she had a whole three six five day year after being bankrupt before she could petition to be released, and as I had pretty much seized every asset she had there was no reason to release her except maybe I could take her wages if she had any that was.

I never told her but that week end I did some figuring and I decided we could use a new teller in the Bank, things were looking up, folks were buying stuff, money was moving around again.

27th October 1930 Monday.

I made an appointment to see the Governor at the Jail, old Menzies Moorhouse that afternoon,I got shown into his office by this girl who looked like she stepped out of a movie, her hair all lacquered, sparkling ear rings, bosoms thrusting against her striped prison dress, it didn't take much figuring to work out her duties, although what I was not too sure what use Moorhouse would have for a whore, what with him being over sixty both in years and in inches around his waist.

"Well Mr Lawson, what can I do for you?" he asked as the girl went an sprawled across his big oak desk making it oh so obvious she had nothing on under that skimpy dress.

"Ah, now well now" I said awkwardly, "I see Mrs Meyer doing unpaid work, now I as her receiver have an obligation to get as much cash out of her for her creditors as I can."

"Right," he says, "You want to start paying to screw her every Friday, nice warm cell, lingerie, perfume?"

"No," I said.

"Someone else then, Michelle, show him what you got Shelly," he ordered.

"Ah, no," I said quietly but the girl already had her dress up showing me her nicely shaved pubes, "No that Mrs Meyer is a clever woman."

"That fucks real smooth, and willing, come on Lawson, everyone knows surely?" he asked, "Hell she done three months solitary rather than screw me and low and behold if she don't near rip your pants off first chance she gets."

"What?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied, "I offered her Shelly's job you know, but she got real nasty so I put her on bread and water for a while and when she got out the other girls beat up on her."

"And the chain gang?" I asked.

"She ain't no good at sewing or knitting, " he explains. "Thats what we do here Mr Lawson, make and mend stuff for the mens facilities around the State so sweeping and screwing is all she fit for."

"So can she work for me, until her release date?" I said, "Sort of probation, parole?" I asked.

"License, work license," he said, "Sure if she agrees, what you thinking, whore?"

"Ah, bank clerk?" I asked.

"Oh that's awkward, hows about domestic servant?" he suggested.

"Sounds good." I agreed.

"Hundred dollars administration fee, cash." he said.

"And how much per week?" I asked.

"Oh I don't see any need to pay the state," he said, "Just pay me the hundred cash and pick her up any time you want, you hear Shelly, you get that typed up right now do you hear!"

I stared as she walked to a small desk at the side of the room, "She was Walt Gimshaw's stenographer," he explained, "She ain't just a pretty face."

Her hands just flew over them keys and pretty soon she had a document drawn up, I looked it over, "That's fine," I said, "I'll have a couple of spare prison dresses for her if I may."

"Surely she'll wear her own stuff?" Moorhouse replied in confusion.

"All sold, it was too fancy for her anyway," I told him, "And leave the leg irons I don't want her escaping."

"Right," he agreed, "Then you can change her real easy if she gets uppity."

"When can I take her." I asked.

"Soon as I get the cash," he laughed, "One hundred and twenty dollars, them dresses are real top quality!" he laughed.

It seemed like a real rip off, but then maybe it was a bargain, if you reckoned a high class whore was ten dollars a poke she would pay for herself in less than a month.

I hammered that old Model T back to town, damn me if the big ends didn't start rattling and clattering like a can of nails by the time I got to town, I swung in the gas station, "Tom," I shouted when I saw Tom Ennis stood there by the workshop, "The damn motor's rattling."

"Big ends," he said, "Needs a look see,"

"Can you fix it?" I asked.

"Now, Nope, Friday maybe?" he said, and when he saw I was in a hurry, "Maybe you should trade up."

I looked at his lot, there was a model A roadster, all low slung and useless on our dirt roads and that damned Studebaker, that used to be Toby Meyer's.

"I'll do you a good price," he said.

"How about a test drive?" I asked, "Right now?"

"Sure," he says "You just buy the Gas."

It took twelve gallons, gee. but that motor just purred and pretty soon I had got a big wad of dollar bills and I was headed back to the jail.

October 27th 1930, Monday 4.30 p.m

Menzies Moorhouse was just about to leave for the day when I arrived, "Hell I'd have made it two hundred if I knew you had a swanky motor like that," he said and he never believed it was a loaner.

I just handed over the cash and a half hour later I signed on the dotted line and she was mine.

"Pick her up anytime," he said.

"How about now?" I suggested.

"Oh, blacksmith's on overtime if you take her now," he said, "I'll get her broke loose in the morning, but the chain gang's back in an hour if you want to get friendly."

The thought of fucking Jayne in front of the guards and all those other women, gee.

"Ok," I said, "The morning, maybe Noon," and I added, "I'll break the news to her."

I hung around and soon enough the chain gang appeared looming dark against the western sky as they wearily tramped in through the big barbed wire security doors and brought Jayne to me in an interview room, all sweaty and filthy from her days work, still barefoot still with leg irons on still chained to her friends..

"Hello Mrs Meyer." I said.

"Mr Lawson," she said, "It seems you are my new boss."

"Look, can't you two just fuck so we can get some sleep?" Frieda asked.

There was no room to lie down so we improvised and the girls held her and I stepped over her ankle chains and they lifted her up with her feet behind my back and then lowered her over my cock as I stood with my pants around my ankles.

It was like I was fucking every single girl in that room it was so intense, the heat the smell and Jayne milking my cock it was like heaven in the heat of hell.

28th October 1930, Tuesday Noon.

I waited for her at the prison, she came out with old Menzies Moorcroft and a guard, her ankles still hobbled by a short chain and she was wearing a torn and patched prison dress but she smiled at me when she saw me.