Sally's Reprogramming: Conclusion

"That will do, miss. There's only one more spot to check, I think."

"Where? I don't have any more bruises."

"You should. You report that Mr. Anderson thrust his penis at you several times, but missed. You should have bruising around your pubic area. His defense attorney will call into question our whole case if there's no bruising or laceration there. We should do everything we can to avoid compromising our credibility. May I inspect your vagina, miss? I know that this is very unusual, but it has to be done."

"What if I can't show you bruises there?"

"Then there's a good chance the rape charge won't stick, and your whole story of last night's events becomes open to question. I hate to say it, but the DA may look closely at your role in last night's events. Now, may I please examine your vagina?"

"Uh...sure." Sally knew damn good and well there were no bruises on her pussy. Frank had bent over backwards to be gentle. She was in trouble. Sally sat in the chair the detectve had gotten up from, and spread her knees over the arms, resting her ass on the edge of the seat. She closed her eyes and trembled. She was really embarassed now. This wasn't a strip tease show now.

Detective Murphy got on his knees in front of her, his face close to her , and touched her pussy hair. Sally jerked. "Please miss, I need to find these bruises. I'll be done in a moment."

He brushed her hair aside roughly and moved it around looking for the bruises. His hands moved away, and she could feel his head moving around. She was mortified, and kept her eyes closed tight. They flew open at the sound of a zipper, but the detective's hands grabbed her and held her tight. He thrust into her, missing several times, and finally found her entrance. It helped that she was still wet from the excitement she's felt as she teased him with her make-believe rape tale, but Murphy's cock was larger, at least seven inches, and thicker. She felt tearing in her cunt and screamed out. He was in her at last, filling her like never before. He thrust hard, not considering her feeling.

The pain subsided slowly, and she began to thrust back onto him as the pleasure mounted, squeezing her pussy and moving with him to orgasm. She wrapped her legs around him and held him tight as her spasms over came her. He kept stroking into her, and finally erupted in his own shattering orgasm. He squeezed her breasts and roughly bit her nipples. Letting her hands go, he carefully pulled out, holding the edge of the condom tightly to avoid spilling a drop. He stuck his dick in his pants, condom and all, and zipped up.

The detective stood up. "Now you have bruises, Miss Blair. If you really want to railroad that creep into prison, go to a different hospital and fill out a "Jane Doe" rape complaint. I cover all the rapes in the city, and I'll make sure the right photos are used to prosecute him. If you claim I did this, or fail to provide me with those photos, I'll start working to corroborate his story of how you killed your mother. His story is the true one, and I can hang this murder on whichever one of you I want. You think it over."

He walked to the door, and opened it. "That's one hell of a tight pussy you have there. I wouldn't mind coming to visit again. A friendly visit. Remember, you have something on me, and I have a handle on you. I think we can work things out for our mutual benefit. You need someone to show you the ropes before you get in real trouble. Give me a call. You have my card." He closed the door on the angry scared girl in the chair.

The trial was over in five short months. Frank's attorney bargained for and he accepted, a sentence of twenty-five to thirty years, in exchange for escaping the death penalty, because Sally burst into tears on the witness stand. The sight of the beautiful blond child, her senior year in high-school shattered by a viscious rape and violent murder, had even the male jurors weeping. Frank couldn't remember bruising her pussy, but those photos were also damning. Frank never had a chance.

Sally came to visit him a year later. She was radiant in her golden hair and her flower dress, a flash of color in the drab prison visiting room. She sat before him, seeing a broken man on the other side of the screen. His back was bent, his hands hung loosely, and his unkempt hair and unshaven face radiated despair. "Hi Frank. That was one hell of a fucking you gave me, I must say. Did you like the fucking I gave you?"

"Huh?" Frank didn't move to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Sure. What did you think? That your stupid speakers and droning voice would make me your love slave? You fucking idiot, you pissed me off, you did. I already hated you and mom. Mom's showing up early was fortunate, but I was planning on draggng the games out until she came home anyway. Did you know she'd made me the beneficiary of a two million dollar life insurance policy? Did you know that was tax free? And mom left her house to me in her will, not you. Too bad you couldn't sell the house and hire a good lawyer, wasn't it? That public defender acted like he'd never done a murder before. It was so funny. What did you think when I blocked your access to Mom's 401(k), too, pending the outcome of the trial? Did you know that was another quarter million in my pocket?

"It didn't cost much to clean the blood up, you know. They just replaced the boards. Glad you didn't kill her on the rug. Well, I've got to go now. We're having a party on the deck. The detective that raped me to make the bruises that put you here is promising me a gang bang time. I always make sure I use that chair you sat in when giving one of my many boyfriends a blow job. Sometimes my girl friends lean back in that seat, too. Thanks for everything."

Frank sat staring at where his beautiful step-daughter was, not moving to go back to his large homosexual cellmate. The shy little girl he'd fantasized about was gone.