Dyker's Island Ch. 01-08

Or maybe the Biker Babes. It could be the Italians or The Russians. Or even the Irish. It made Mercy's heart sink but she knew this was a reality under Esther's harsh reign; The gangs got their pick of the new meat.

Mercy snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and the sound made most of the women close their sphincters to the size of a needle on reflex. Ashley's pussy started dripping with anticipation. Her mouth watered. She hoped that this guard would be rough. She hoped she'd take advantage.

But Mercy didn't take advantage, at least not of Ashley. After applying some vaseline, she went to work. With Mabel, she was deliberately rough. Mercy wanted it to hurt. She jammed two fingers in her Irish butt without warning, and the mob boss yelped.

"Feckin' hell! Yer gotten a tad bit rough since our last romp, haven't yer?" Mabel exclaimed in surprise.

Mercy growled and switched holes. She was equally as rough with Mabel's womanhood, but the celtic beauty simply teased her.

"Agh!" She yelped instinctively. "Yer know I like it rough, darlin'."

Mercy spanked her ex-lover's ass, and the deadly dame moaned. It was true that Mercy missed her, but she also knew that the evil woman had shown her true colours. She no longer wanted anything to do with her, though she still thought that Mabel was still very beautiful.

The guard's treatment of Mabel got Ashley excited, and the other girls nervous, but for the rest of the ordeal, Mercy was mostly professional and by the book. Mostly.

With Ashley, and the others, Mercy was clinical, having enough self control not to take things further than what was regulation. Ashley hated that. It wasn't what she wanted at all. Why wasn't this guard abusing her like so many others had?

The girls whimpered softly as Mercy went in and out of their most intimate places in order. None of them liked it, that was, until she got to Stephanie.

They hadn't had a real conversation together, but when Mercy saw the Delgado woman, her chest felt warm and her heart fluttered. She thought that the girl was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life. Mercy knew a girl like her would not survive in this hell. Not without protection. She didn't just want her body, she wanted to keep her safe; To hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.

Mercy softly rubbed her lubed fingers around Stephanie's anus, getting her used to the feeling of them. Steph found it strangely pleasant. Her nipples hardened and her womanhood began to tingle. The guard slowly inserted her fingers, and Stephanie softly moaned as she gently felt the inside of her butthole. When she was sure the girl wasn't concealing any contraband, she pulled her finger out, then gently caressed Stephanie's clit.

Steph moaned in pleasure and Mercy slipped two fingers into her. She twisted them just the right way to drive her crazy. The girl's mind filled with thoughts she never had before - Of the woman who currently pleasured her. She imagined how big and beautiful her cock was, and how good it would feel inside her.

As Mercy fingered Steph, her lady-balls filled and her erection almost burst her pants at the seams. She knew she was dripping pre-cum. The goth girl was so hot. Mercy leant over and whispered into her ear.

"I can make you feel this good all the time, if you let me look after you."

"Huh?" Stephanie moaned. She didn't know what Mercy meant yet.

Mercy pulled her fingers out of Steph when she was just short of coming. She wanted to leave her wanting more. Keep the girl keen. When all the girls were searched, Mercy slipped off her glove and tossed it in a nearby waste bin.

"Alright, it looks like that for once, everybody is clean." She said, happy that she didn't need to discipline any of the girls.

Clarice scoffed up the back of the room.

"They might be free of contraband, but they're far from clean."

The bureaucratic woman smiled.

"It's time for their shower."

And of course, she was right. They were yet to have their first shower. It was around about that time that Ana, Steph and Yuki noticed the large drain underneath them. They stood there, awkwardly covering themselves with their hands, wondering how they were expected to shower without any showerheads.

Mercy nodded, and pulled out a box of soap from one of the drawers. She walked along the line and handed every woman one bar each. Redflags went off in Ana's head when Mercy retrieved a large fire hose, connected to a tap beneath the bench. She pointed the hose towards the girls and cleared her throat to speak.

"You might want to close your eyes." She warned before turning on the facet and letting the hose rip at full blast.

The force of the stream was so much that it made all the girls scream, even the returning inmates like Imogen who knew what was coming. Combined with the water's ice cold temperature, it still managed to shock them. All their hairs on their bodies stood up from goosebumps.

Ana, Steph and Yuki cried the loudest. They scrunched their eyes closed and held out their arms to shield their faces. They didn't do much scrubbing and instead whimpered the entire time. Imogen, Ashley, Mabel and the others fought against the harsh stream to lather their bodies with the soap, before allowing Mercy to rinse it off them.

Mercy herself always found this bit to be unpleasant, but Clarice derived a sick pleasure from the display. She smiled lustfully as the hard stream of water hit the women's skin. It was almost as if the degeneracy of their criminal lives was being washed away with the grime.

Mercy switched off the water and it caused them almost as much shock as when she turned it on. The eight women shivered and whimpered in the intake room at their sudden change in body temperature. Mercy gave each woman a plain white towel and they quickly dried off and wrapped the towels around their shame. That was, except Ashley. She hung the towel around the back of her neck.

Ana Blake was terrified, but the exact reality of her situation still hadn't exactly sunk in; This really was the beginning of her new life. One of constant punishment, servitude, bondage and slavery. Here at Dyker's she would suffer harshly for the life she chose to end.

The same could be said for Yuki, who knew in her heart that she was innocent. Strangely she still held some faith in the justice system.

She kept believing that she would be freed. That at the last minute, she would be granted a reprieve from the hell she found herself in.

Yuki prayed for a miracle, but there would not be one. The once respected Japanese businesswoman would have no such luck.

Stephanie was too frightened and humiliated to speak. During the 72 hours that she had occupied the "Pee-Willee Wieners" slaughterhouse, Steph had put on a poker face back when she played terrorist. But now that she had begun to fold, she was being exposed as what she was. Just another angry rich white girl filled with angst and rebellion gone completely out of control.

Her criminal career could have entirely been prevented if someone had spanked her enough. Here at Dyker's, someone finally would. Corporal Punishment was something that Warden Esther Willis was a strong proponent of. Superintendent Clarice Strauss pulled out her clipboard and began flicking through each woman's file, as she paced up and down the line of new inmates.

"New arrivals, I'm going to read out your names and assign you each a number" She commanded. "Remembering your number is your own responsibility. Not responding to your number will result in severe penalties."

Mercy retrieved many styles of folded uniforms out from the drawers and placed them down on the metal bench. Clarice peered her eyes down at the clipboard and read out the list in alphabetical order.

"Blake, Annabelle: #B35D-7063. Delgado, Stephanie: #B39D- 7064. Harper, Imogen: #B39D- 7065. Kobayashi, Yuki: #B39D- 7066. Simpson, Ashley: #B39D- 7067."

Stephanie and Ana didn't quite hear their number, but they dared not ask the woman to repeat it. The cane in her hand looked like it would be sore when colliding with their bare backsides. They looked at the clothes lined out on the table, and were a little bit relieved. Soon, at least their modesty would be returned to them.

Clarice tucked the clipboard under her arm and slapped her gloved hand with the leather cane. She ordered the returning inmates to put on their uniforms, and they did. Rachel, Maya, Taylah and Cate's overalls were cut so that they showed off each woman's shapely body. This was how their mommies demanded that they dress. No doubt now they were back from court, each woman would spend the night being dressed up like a little dolly.

They dreaded whatever clothes their mistresses had managed to smuggle in for them, and Taylah knew that her nazi owner loved leather the most. The four vegans were not having a fun time in prison, far from it; But at least each girl got a makeover every night. They had their hair, nails and makeup done for free; Not the way they wanted it, of course, but whatever their owners thought would attract the most "customers".

"It's time to get dressed." Ordered Clarice, pointing towards the folded up uniforms on the table.

Believe it or not, the girls actually did have a choice in what they wore, it was one of the few small freedoms they still had. There were three different kinds of uniform, available in four colours, not just orange.

The first was a classic, long sleeved overalls that zipped and buttoned up at the front. It wouldn't be pleasant in the tropical weather, but it did provide the most coverage.

The next outfit was a pair of fatigues with short-sleeves. It came with a woolen turtleneck underneath, but the ambient heat was high enough that it would never be needed.

The last was a shortcut prison dress that barely covered the inmates backside. It was the most comfortable in the heat, but provided little coverage.

Then there were the colours. Orange, was of course, the most popular, being that it is the new black. Trendier inmates tended to choose Blue, however, so they could stand out. Tan was also common, because the colour didn't show stains as much. Finally, there were the less visible Gray uniforms, a favourite of inmates who got up to no good.

Stephanie chose a grey dress, because it was the closest thing to black. She began looking through the underwear. There were white tank tops, and matching boyshorts with "Property of Dyker's Island" stamped across the buttocks, but there didn't seem to be any bras.

Mercy could see that Stephanie seemed to be having trouble. With her hands on her hips, she perked her nose up in the girl's direction. Her caring and calming voice rang through the room.

"What's wrong, honey?" She asked considerately.

Stephanie gulped, nervous to question her captors.

"I can't find the bras."

A small, sympathetic pout spread across Mercy's face, as she looked down at the girl's considerably large rack.

"That's because we don't have any. They're banned."

Stephanie's eyes widened. That couldn't possibly be true. She couldn't imagine going 25 years without a bra. Her endowed bust simply wouldn't be able to cope. They would sag uncomfortably before she turned 30.

"What?! Why?"

Mercy sighed.

"Girls are really crafty. I've seen them be turned into all kinds of weapons."

"Weapons? That's ridiculous!" Cried Stephanie in protest.

But Mercy wasn't kidding. She remembered a particularly nasty time that one girl had used the underwire to take out another girl's eye. After that, everyone agreed that bras were strictly prohibited for everyone's safety. Although she had tried to get the prison to issue sports bras, the less sympathetic Warden saw no reason to give the inmates any comfort at all.

"No, it's not. I've seen them be used as slingshots and garrotes. Put something heavy in the cups and tie it up, you got yourself a flail."

Stephanie gasped. She had no idea that women's prisons could be violent. She thought that was exclusive to men.

"Things like that really happen here?!" She screamed in fright.

Mercy nodded somberly. She walked closer to Stephanie in an attempt to comfort her.

"I'm afraid so."

She lent in and whispered tenderly in the shivering goth girl's ear.

"It's why I said I could protect you."

Stephanie was still too shocked to properly respond, but she definitely considered this offer. She could see Mercy's erection, and it aroused her thinking about how pleasurable it would be to ride. Maybe her guardian angel could make life more tolerable here for her. It was already just so awful and she hadn't even begun serving her real time yet.

The goth girl reluctantly put on the tank top and boyshorts, then slipped the grey dress over her head. Stretched by her oversized bust, it barely covered her plump backside. The white legs of the boyshorts were exposed, and so was her crotch when she walked. It humiliated her, but she knew that this uniform would be the most comfortable in the tropical heat.

Ashley was next to dress, and she chose a pair of orange overalls. Not only because she found them sexy to wear, but also because she liked how the four prison bitches uniforms were cut. She wanted hers to look the same, showing off her midriff, long legs, full bust and big, mature white booty. For now, she tied the top of the overalls around her waist, leaving her nipples visible through her white tank top.

Imogen also went with a pair of orange overalls. In her previous stays, she had grown accustomed to the look. Yuki put them on too, but only because she was too scared to make a proper decision. Right now, she just wanted to be clothed. Ana chose the fatigues, they were also in orange; The truth was she actually always liked how the colour complimented her red hair.

Each woman was given a bedroll, bed sheets, towels, a pair of flip-flops and a pair of work boots for labor duty. They were also handed a box containing toilet paper, sanitary products, toothpaste, a toothbrush and finally, a bar of soap on a thin rope. The girls were then shackled and handcuffed once more, and the restraints dug into their skin uncomfortably.

Strauss escorted the inmates out of reception, and Mercy followed behind them. The metal doors to the yard swung open, and the girl's eyes had to adjust to the sudden change in light. It would be something they would have to get used to.

Strauss brought the inmates out through a fenced off walkway that divided the yard. As they walked down the large cage catwalk, the women that inhabited the yard all suddenly and ominously turned to face them.

In an instant, they descended on the chain link fence like vultures. There were many different kinds of women among them. Some of them were black girls, others were latina. There was also one group who looked suspiciously white, in the way that they were not too fond of Israel.

But the one constant that Ana, Steph and Yuki noticed, was that all the girls were far meaner and tougher than they were.

The new girls, Imogen included, got nothing but cat calls.

"Hey there, fresh meat. Welcome to Hell." Said one particularly tough looking girl.

She had ebony skin and long, black dreadlocks. The name tag pinned to orange overalls said her name was Simone Lotti. There were a group of other African-American women around her. It was clear that she was the boss. The other girls let her do the speaking, though it didn't stop them from wolf-whistling.

"We're gonna eat you girls up and spit you right out." Said a chola girl who looked even meaner.

Her name was Gina Vasquez, and she wore a cut off tank top that exposed her midriff and orange fatigue pants. Both her arms with sleeves in latin gang ink and crude prison tattoos.

A large gang of cholas loitered around her. Many of the girls simply made a V shape with their fingers and teasingly licked the air between them.

Ana, Steph and Yuki gasped with horror. These prison bullies were incredibly muscular and obviously all hardened criminals. None of them could hope to defend themselves against any of these women. Not alone. They were terrified. All the stories were true. There was no way they could survive without becoming somebody's bitch.

"Now there's something Japanese I would actually want to ride!" Mocked biker girl through a thick cloud of cigar smoke.

She had dark hair shaved at the sides and pulled back into a ponytail. The woman was covered in tattoos that highlighted her muscular figure. A winged heart was etched across her cleavage and inked under her left eye was a single black tear drop. Even the first timers knew that was a sign that she meant business.

Her blue prison top was cut into a vest she wore over her tank top. Pinned to her chest was an ID badge printed with her name and number. It was Myra Gray, the first female President of the Love and Hate Outlaw motorcycle club. One might be forgiven if they mistook her for adult actress Christy Mack.

She sucked on her cigar before hurling another taunt towards the Japanese banker.

"How'd you like to taste my sushi, beautiful?"

Political correctness was obviously a foreign concept to girls like her.

Yuki gasped in horror.

"Oh no! I don't want to eat pussy!" She yelped.

Another voice called out towards Stephanie. The distinctive South African accent set it apart from the others.

"Hello, precious. Wanna snuggle?"

The eco-terrorist turned to look at the inmate the voice belonged to. She was dressed in a pair of blue fatigues, tagged "Van Houten, Zoey". It was strange, but Stephanie could swear that she looked for all in the world like Charlize Theron. Zoey's blonde hair and blue eyes, together with the large swastika tattoo inked across her forehead, made little question of her political alignment.

Neither did the pack of white trash women who validated her; Their heads all either partially or fully shaven to further project their allegiance, just in case the white supremicist insignia that inked their flesh wasn't enough. Imogen thought it reeked of insecurity. She remembered Zoey and her nazis from her previous stay. They were pretty much the worst people anyone could imagine.

"Noooo!!! I like boys!" Steph wailed, almost as a reflex.

Amber Sibthorpe, a nazi punk girl who was right where she belonged, peered over Ana's body with lust, undressing the redhead with her eyes.

"I wouldn't mind me a piece of some ginger ass." She teased, squeezing Ana's ass through the fence.

Then Ana cried out some of the only words she had spoken the entire journey.

"No please! I'm not gay!"

Mabel smiled at the girl's peril.

'Yeah, yeah. And neither was I.' She thought sarcastically.

The girls in the yard, regardless of their allegiance, all looked at each other and laughed.

"In prison, everybody is gay, baby!" They all cried out in unison.

Their words made the stomach of all the girls churn - None of them wanted to be lesbians, but they knew that where they were now didn't leave them much of a choice in that anymore. They each hung their heads and some of them sniffled.

Except for Ashley. She was so turned on she couldn't speak. The woman simply moaned softly as she soiled her new prison panties with her lady juices. Apart from a disappointing introduction, prison had turned out to be everything she hoped for.