Dyker's Island Ch. 01-08

Maya knew that, because she wasn't sure if she herself could even survive eight.

"Do you like your new outfit?" Asked Gina cruelly.

"Yes, Daddy. I love it. Thank you for giving it to me." Replied Maya robotically.

The pair had trained her well in the six months she'd spent with them so far. The girl was the most obediently slave they ever had. Alicia and Gina kissed each other passionately. Then the martial artist snapped her fingers.

"Dance, bitch. And give us a good show. We didn't get you that outfit for nothin'. Don't be ungrateful."

Maya nodded and sobbed.

"Yes, Mommy." She replied.

Maya started jiggling her tits and wiggling her ass as she mounted a pole and strutted her stuff for all to see. Her cruel owners made out. They put their hands in each other's pants and moaned orgasmiclly. The whole time Clara rubbed Gina's back. She was too afraid to stop for a moment, even though the aches in her hands and arms were killing her.

'If I knew that prison was like this... My god... I never would have gotten in the car drunk...'

Clara sobbed too, but only ever so quiet. She didn't want her owners to mock her for it.

They had before. Back in college, Clara took great joy in bullying the weird girls.

Now it seemed she was the one being bullied. It was safe to say that she had learned her lesson. If she managed to survive the next nine years, she'd never so much as jaywalk.

The girl wouldn't dare even get a late fee at the city library.

Elsewhere on the block, a cell full of glamorous women in skimpily cut uniforms counted the cash and cigarettes they had hidden under their bedrolls. These were the Working Girls.

Or at least, some of them. Prison was something of an occupational hazard for women in the oldest profession.

Their leader, blonde beauty Clementine Starling, sat in the corner of her bunch drowned in smoke, like the madame of a bordello in the old west. The makeshift wooden ashtray laid next to her was overloaded with ash and butts. When the girls were finished counting their cash and smokes, they each partitioned a portion. Priya Bijou, an Indian girl in the group, handed Clementine her share of it.

"Here you go Kleo. That's us for the week." She said with a grateful smile.

On the outside, they'd be sad to part with a percentage to a 'partner'. But not here, and not with Clementine. She treated them like an equal part of her enterprise. As a free woman, she was better known as Kleo Star, the richest adult actress in the business. Though, no one was quite sure how she had amassed that wealth.

As "Kleo Star", Clementine founded a successful competitor to OnlyFans, DisCreet.

The attraction was that models on her site were known to get a little closer and more intimate with the site's members. As it turned out, DisCreet was a front for one of the largest escort agencies in the nation.

Not only that, but a joint State and Federal task force uncovered evidence that Starling was using her workers to extort their wealthiest clients for exorbitant sums. It seemed that the mystery behind her massed wealthy was suddenly explained. The Judge gave her seven years for the pandering, ten years for the extortion and another three years for obscenity just to round things out to a hard twenty years in prison.

It was possible she could make parole before then, if she was any other woman - But Clementine seldom had time for authority even when she wasn't property of the state.

The girl hadn't really factored in that her behavior might spoil her chances for early release in the future. It would surely be something that she'd come to regret in five years time when she went before the parole board.

Clementine smiled and stashed the wad of cash under her bedroll. She tucked the smokes between her breasts, except for three that she offered back to the girls.

"Cause I love ya all so much, each of ya can get a cigarette back!" Replied Clementine with a friendly grin.

The girls eagerly took the cigarettes from her. They were more than thankful for the gesture. Since Clementine had organized the sex workers together into the Working Girls and partnered with Mabel Reilly, things had been easier for them in prison. Everybody left them alone, unless they were buying what they were selling. If they weren't, then Mabel or their friends in the Women's Alliance would send them packing.

Francesca Antonino pushed her cart down the hall with an envelope of cash stashed uncomfortably in the back of her panties. The corners were riding right up into her crack. She played it off, as unpleasant as it was. She wasn't going to be caught with it and spend who knows how long in The Hole or Solitary.

Fran stopped when she got to Clementine's cell. She pulled the envelope over so slightly up over the waistband of her customized trousers. The Mob Wife knocked on the bars of her cell with the back of her hand.

"Dinner's served, lovely ladies." Spouted Fran condescending as she served the plates of food on the shelf between the bars.

It was clear that while they worked together, Fran didn't particularly have much respect for the Working Girls. Clementine rolled her eyes and approached the bars with her cellmates.

"Horsemeat again. My favourite." Said the pornstar sarcastically.

Fran's reply was about as sincere.

"Well, its all there fucking is, so lucky you."

The Mob Wife put her back against the bars and whispered discreetly.

"I did your collection. I took my cut, because I don't trust you to do it for me. I don't want to hear any complaining."

Clementine groaned. No doubt this greaseball riding New Jersey trash has ripped her off.

But she wouldn't say anything to Francessca. She'd take Mabel aside at the next meeting and get her to do it for her. Even if she had to give the Irish gangster a 'favor' for the privilege.

The pornstar slipped the envelope out of Fran's panties, and stashed it down the back of her own. Clementine picked up her meal and went back to the bunk like nothing untoward was going down.

Francessca stepped away from the bars and pushed the cart along to the next cell.

"Bon appetit, ladies." Croaked the mob wife as she departed.

Clementine shook her head as she sat a pillow on her lap in front of the envelope and discreetly counted the bills sealed inside. Her face went red and steam blasted from her ears when she realized how light it was.

"That daygo bitch has taken us for a fucking grand!" She whispered angrily, slapping the envelope against her knee. "She took all the cigarettes too!"

"What?" Whispered back Pryia in disbelief. "But she's supposed to play by Mabel's terms!"

Clementine scoffed.

"Yeah, she's supposed to. Doesn't mean she ever intended to."

The pornstar grabbed the slip of cash and stashed it under her bed.

"I'm going to have to talk to our Irish friend about this, I think. If that doesn't work..."

She smiled at her compatriot.

"...Then we talk to the bra-burners."

In her office, Warden Esther Willis finished typing up the reports on the new arrivals. The Governor would expect them on her desk by the following afternoon, and Esther was eager to impress her. It wasn't just because they shared the same ignorant and regressive politics, or because she wanted to strengthen her career.

Esther Willis was sexually attracted exclusively to the female form. But she came from an evangelical and conservative background that would never let her accept her true self. Forty five years of living a lie, without ever knowing actual love had molded Esther into a bitter, hateful and wicked woman. Her lifelong career in law enforcement had been nothing but a platform for her to explore her sexual idenity in a perverse and sadistic way.

She thought that the Governor was the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. And it wasn't just that - Esther knew that like her, Zara Haylin was in the closet. She was a woman living a lie. Hiding from her true self for all the same barriers that also plagued her.

If the two women were younger, and more innocent, one might call it a crush. But perhaps now it was more like an obsession. She hoped that if she impressed the sultry politician, they might get a little bit more 'intimately' acquainted. Esther gazed at the scantily clad picture of Zara that hung on the wall above her door. She daydreamed about them together, persecuting minorities, selling out the interests of hard working Americans, complaining about political correctness and all the other things that make conservatives so excited.

The southern woman's hard, black heart fluttered in her chest, and she sighed with the somber knowledge that it would never happen. Such a relationship would destroy them both professionally and in their personal lives. They'd have to become Liberals, and join the Democrats - And Esther thought she'd rather just lock herself up right next to the women she'd been torturing in the eight years that she had reigned over this lesbian hell.

Professionally, Esther was right where she wanted to be. A Warden had always been her dream career. Ever since she was in High School. Her favourite part of being a State Trooper, was when she had to search the female offenders and guard the holding cells. As a County Sheriff, she had control over a jail. But now, she worked her way up to the big house.

She owned a prison. And she made sure it ran like a well oiled machine.

Here, she felt like a goddess. Here, she could do whatever she wanted. Here, she was queen.

It made her feel so powerful.

The only reason that Esther still fucked her husband, was that she got off on showing the straight inmates the pictures they took together. She enjoyed taunting them with what they can never have in prison; Cock. She knew they all craved it.

And the only way she could cum from riding a man was by thinking about how all the inmates back at Dyker's wanted so desperately what most women took for granted. Otherwise, men did nothing for her.

The Southern Warden typed away at her keyboard, and was just about to finish when her desk phone rang. She sighed with frustration and answered it unenthusiastically.

"Dyker's Island Women's Correctional. This is Warden Esther Willis. Can I help you?"

Her jaw dropped when she heard the voice on the other side.

"Warden Willis? Just the woman I wanted to speak to. This is Governor Haylin speaking."

The Warden choked up with excitement. She felt faint and had to fan her face. It took her a while before she could muster speech from her mouth.

"Governor Haylin? Ma'am!" Spouted Esther with surprise.

She saluted her, even though they were on the phone.

"I-I was just finishing those reports on the new inmates. I'll have them sent to you first thing tomorrow!"

The Warden could barely contain her excitement. She was like a schoolgirl from the 2000s getting a reply to their love letter from the Jonas Brothers. Esther had met the Governor before of course. She even shook her hand when they appointed her Warden. That made her all warm and gooey inside.

"I appreciate that, Warden." Replied Haylin. "But that's not the reason I'm calling."

Willis's gut tightened up. Her heart skipped a beat. What if the Governor was unhappy with her? What if she wasn't performing up to her standard? What if the experiment was a failure? What if they were being closed down? She couldn't bare to think about disappointing the beautiful and sultry Zara Haylin.

"Oh..." Responded Willis anxiously as she twisted the cord around with her finger. She forced a smile so the Governor wouldn't notice.

"And to what do I owe this prestigious pleasure, ma'am?"

She awaited the Governor's response with battered breath.

"You've heard of the election coming up?"

"Yes, of course, ma'am." Responded the Warden nervously.

"Well, I've heard good things about the work you've been doing down there, Esther."

The praise satisfied her anxiety. The fact that the women used her first name made her just that much more excited.

"I've decided that I'd like to take a tour of your prison and see this experiment for myself. Crime is a big issue of my campaign. I'd like to show the voters that I'm punishing criminals in the best way possible. I think we could also talk about ways to improve the productivity of the labor programs."

Esther's heart pounded in her chest the fastest that it ever had in her life. This was her chance. This would be how she would impress the Governor and get into her good graces. She found it hard to formulate words.

"Oh... That's...Fantastic! I mean, that's just a wonderful idea, ma'am!" Exclaimed the Warden.

She tugged at her half unbuttoned blouse, as suddenly she started to feel hotter. Her body temperature rose by at least ten degrees.

"W-When can we expect you?" She stammered excitedly "I-I'll m-make sure everything is ready for you!"

"I'll arrive in two weeks time." Said the Governor through a smile that the Warden could somehow hear through the phone. "I can't wait to see you, Esther."

The Governor hung up the line. Warden Esther clutched the handset to her chest and hugged it tightly. 'It wouldn't be a sin.' She thought. 'The good book says; he who layeth with a man as he would a woman shall be put to stone. It doesn't say anything about women.'

Besides, surely god had answered her prayers. Surely this was her reward for being such a good god fearing christian girl.

The Governor was god fearing as well. Maybe together, they would show the world that lesbians loved Jesus as much as straight women did. Maybe more even, because he was the only man for her heart. Her husband was just for keeping up appearances with her prayer group.

Esther daydreamed about getting on her knees and worshiping the conservative republican goddess like a queen.

The Warden put her right hand inside her tight skirt and rubbed her clit. She reached inside her white blouse with the other and pinched her nipples. Esther played with herself for a while, but she couldn't quite climax. She huffed and sent off the finished inmate files to her secretary. The cruel woman picked up the phone again and started to dial into it. With an event like this, the staff would need to be informed. That way, they'd all know how to behave.

Clarice Strauss answered on the other line.

"Warden Willis, ma'am. Superintendent Strauss speaking."

The Governor was short and to the point as she was with all her employees. She had little time for the ones who didn't return her advances. Clarice was one of them.

"I want you to call a staff meeting in an hour. The Governor is coming to visit. Tell the girl's they'll be going home late."

She hung up the phone and began tidying her desk in anticipation - Even though the visit was still 12 days away.

Back in Unit B, Rachel Madea had her tender ebony face buried deep inside Simone Lotti's big black ass. In the same cell, Cate Byron tongue fucked Lotti's right hand woman, Zelda Morgan. Simone was broad but slender. Zelda had a toned and athletic body. Both women had styled dreadlocks that were surely hard to maintain in prison. It wasn't quite clear how they did it.

Cate and Rachel were black. In prison, that meant they were off limits to the other ethnic groups. Here, no matter how wrong, unfair or unjustified it was, African-Americans were the most dominant racial niche in the prison. But, that wouldn't stop the Homegirls from exploiting them instead.

Simone and Zelda held hands and made out without each other as the two turn coats rimmed them vigorously. They moaned in bliss. Their eyes closed and their minds traveling somewhere far from prison. Somewhere they were free.

On the street, Simone and Zelda came from opposite ends of the hustling game. They were bitter enemies, and had tried to take a shot at the other more than once. But in prison, none of that shit seemed to matter any more. Here, they were sisters. No. They were closer than that, they were lovers.

Their slaves had been at it for hours in their skimpily cut uniforms. If it wasn't for the fact that they both snitched, their mistresses might have sympathy for them.

It didn't matter who they snitched against. For all purposes, they were the Unit's resident rats.

They were a pest and all they were good for was what they could do with their mouths. They certainly didn't ever let them cum and if they found the girls masturbating, they got a sound beating.

Tears welled from the eco-terrorists eyes as ate out their owners big butts. They also held hands, but it was more an act of solidarity, rather than one of lust or intimacy. Every single night was like this, and they hated it. Inbetween the loud slurps and gulps they took of black ass, Cate and Rachel cursed Stephanie under their breath.

"Fucking bitch." They scowled. "It's all her fault."

It wasn't.

They were still in denial. It would only make their time more difficult than it already was.

Francesca pushed the cart along to their cell. She wasn't pleased at the sight. The mob wife groaned with frustration.

"You're supposed to wait for dessert until after dinner, ladies." Fran quipped impatiently.

Simone clicked her fingers. The girls stopped eating ass. They obediently kneeled on the floor, awaiting their next command. Simone and Zelda pulled up their pants and climbed off the bunk.

"Mmmm I sure am hungry." Teased Zelda through a cruel smile.

She looked down at the sobbing slaves.

"What about you girls?"

They weren't. The taste of ass had since sullied their appetite.

Nevertheless, they crawled over to the bars behind their mommy and daddy. Fran served out the plates. Simone eagerly took hers and had a hard whiff of the odorless, tasteless meal.

"Mmm, smells good, cook!" Remarked the woman sarcastically. "I can see why your people own so many restaurants."

Francessca rolled her eyes and pushed her cart along to the next cell. She didn't have time to waste on "these people". The truth was that the racial politics of the Mafia wasn't that far removed from the Ayrans. Except all that stuff about the Jews. Somehow, to them, that seemed like it was just too far.

Zelda and Simone sat down on the bunk and ate their bland and sloppy meal. Rachel and Cate savored the small reprieve they had now that their mistresses were occupied. Regardless, they stayed kneeled on the floor awaiting the Homegirl's every word.

Simone shoveled slop into her mouth. She spoke with her mouth full.

"So ladies, I hear that chick you snitched on here now. Did you know that?"

Rachel and Cate looked at each other, nervous as ever and confused. Of course they knew that. Obviously 'Mommy Lotti' had some ulterior motive for bringing it up. The girls spoke to each other with only a glance.

"Yes, mommy. We knew that." They replied in unison.

Apparently Zelda was better mannered. She had the decency to chew her food and swallow it before she spoke.

"How do you bitches feel about that, then?" She asked, before shoveling down some microwaved mac and cheese.

She washed it down with kool-aid. It wasn't gin and juice, but at least it was wet.

Cate and Rachel looked at each other again. They raised their eyebrows, unaware of what their owners wanted from them. So they told the truth.