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Kimmy Kennedy, much like Carla Youngblood had started off pleading and begging for Mylo to stop his rape of her. But also like the first victim, eventually the pleasure she experienced overcame her ability to resist and she was soon climaxing uncontrollably on Mylo's massive cock. The judge, jury, prosecutors, and courtroom audience watched in awe as the big-titted redhead orgasmed time and time again as Mylo fucked the hell out of her.
Worse yet for the prosecution were the filthy dialogue and basic hard core amateur porn that ensued in the subsequent scenes on the large TV screen in the courtroom.
"You love my big fucking cock don't you, you horny fucking slut?" Mylo shouted.
"Oh God Yes, your dick is amazing, I'm going to cum again, fuck me!" The young redhead screamed in response.
At about that time, Kimmy Kennedy walked quietly out of the courtroom with her head down and sunglasses on. Her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, he had kicked the slutty bitch out of his apartment years earlier immediately following Mylo's rape of her.
The other victims watched as the guilt-ridden redhead exited the large courtroom, a few other wives feeling much the same way, well aware they had responded similarly when Mylo Dickenson raped them. Meanwhile, everyone else in the courtroom remained in place as the fuckfest continued. On the tape, eventually Mylo released Kimmy from her restraints, but instead of attempting to escape or free her boyfriend, the horny slut used her hands and mouth to pleasure her alleged assailant.
The video finally drew to a close when Mylo erupted yet again. This time instead of planting his seed in her hungry pussy for the third time, he impressively splattered her pretty face and huge tits upon the completion of one of the hottest titty fucking scenes anyone in the courtroom had ever witnessed.
The following morning the prosecution team, including the Assistant D.A., were removed from the case. The lead District Attorney Bob Stanley himself took over. He was able to get the judge to grant a one-day recess for the change of lawyers.
The new prosecution team reviewed all the remaining videotapes in painstaking detail and much to their vexation, in many of the subsequent rapes, the female victims responded to Mylo's fucking in much the same way as Carla Youngblood, some had even slutted it up as much as Kimmy Kennedy. One notable example, Tess Simonton, the gorgeous trophy wife of billionaire venture capitalist, Terry Simonton, became a foul-mouthed fuck slut after taking Mylo's huge cock in her ass at the couple's huge Los Altos Hills estate.
The 29-year-old blonde former playboy playmate had started off kicking and screaming like Mylo's other victims, but eventually she succumbed to the power of his incredible cock while her 73-year-old husband sat slack-jawed and bound against the large fireplace in their master suite. When Mylo taunted the young wife by suggesting that their mating looked to be killing her old man, the prosecution team watched in exasperated disbelief when the hot wife responded by reaching back between her legs and fondling her assailant's massive balls, while breathlessly commenting, "Fuck me in the ass with your huge cock, my old-fuck husband can't even keep it hard these days, it's probably killing him to watch you fuck me so good! And I don't even care!"
The hot young blonde and her husband had been on rocky ground for the past six months since she walked into his office one afternoon and caught him getting a blow job from his young Latina nurse.
"Oh my God," the D.A. yelled out exasperatedly, "The stupid bitch says she doesn't even care if it kills her husband to watch her fuck the rapist and then the old dude up and dies in the process...we absolutely cannot show this to the jury! Someone get Dickenson's attorney on the phone, we need to cut a deal!"
Just then one of the nerdy assistant D.A.'s spoke, "Uh sir, don't forget he pronounces it 'Dick-is-in' now."
"Oh shut the fuck up Melvin! Where's that fucking call with Mark Lambert?" Bob Stanley screamed at the top of his lungs to everyone and no one in particular.
An hour later, Mark Lambert sat in front of Bob Stanley's massive mahogany desk, "Do you really get any satisfaction from defending pieces of shit like this Mark?"
"It's my job, don't forget you were a court appointed defense lawyer once upon a time too Bob!"
"Yes, that was a long time ago and I don't remember ever defending anyone as fucked-up as your client," he laughed, "But I probably did. So you probably know why I called you here on short notice, thanks to my bumbling team of morons, we made your loser of a client look like the second coming of Don Juan to the jury. And the way I see it, it is likely only going to get worse if we continue to show these disturbing videotapes to them. So what I'm getting at, if we pull the gas chamber off the table, would you guys be willing to make a deal?"
"I assume you watched the video of the playboy bunny wishing her husband would die while she was fucking my client?"
"Yeah," Stanley sighed, "We'd be willing to go with murder in the 2nd on that one if we can come to an agreement on the rest of this shit. Obviously I'm not willing to take life without parole off the table, in spite of how bad we've fucked this thing up; we still have 20 rapes and the croaking of the old man on videotape. You'd be risking your client's life if you don't take it!"
"Let me talk it over with Mr. Dickenson and I'll get back to you ASAP."
Two hours later Mark Lambert called the District Attorney back and said, "Ok Bob, we'd be willing to take life without parole, but if and only if, one additional concession is made. You know those clinical professionals we hired, the Hypersexual Behavior Specialists who along with your own doctors determined my client is far and away the most sexually compulsive individual that any of them had ever studied?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, do you also recall that their unanimous determination was that if my client, due to unfathomably high testosterone levels, does not get regular relief from the constant build up of reproductive fluids within his scrotum..."
"...get to the point Mark, what are you asking for, that one of the guard's sucks him off every day?"
"No, we are requesting...excuse me, demanding...that my client be provided pornographic magazines and a secluded place twice-a-day everyday to relieve himself for the entirety of his sentence!"
The District Attorney laughed out loud, "You think I can convince a judge to allow that stipulation for a serial rapist? I was thinking more along the lines of chemical castration Mark!"
"Make it happen Bob, or each of those videotapes is going to be played from beginning to end." Mark Lambert responded before hanging up.
Bob Stanley knew Mylo Dickenson was going to be convicted of something significant, but he couldn't risk a compassionate jury siding with the rapist who, along with his lawyer, had done a good job of deferring the focus from the brutal rapes to the reaction of the victim's. Now the D.A. was also faced with the very real possibility that none of the remaining victims would be willing to take the stand following the humiliation experienced by the first three. He knew he had to take the plea deal, life without parole would still be considered a victory, especially in the liberal Bay Area where most didn't support the death penalty anyway. The only question now was how to convince the judge to agree to the smut magazine masturbation demand.
The same laughter that escaped his mouth when Mark Lambert made the demand to him spewed from the judge's lips when Bob Stanley presented it to him. When he finished chuckling the judge said, "Bob, I would have expected something like this from a rookie attorney, but I can't believe someone of your experience would have the nerve to actually bring this across my desk. The answer is absolutely no!"
Bob Stanley swallowed nervously, "Andy I hate to bring this up, but do you remember a certain young black man, a hotel room and a Batman suit from that convention in Vegas?"
"How dare you bring that up after all these years Bob! You would really expose that to get this concession for this piece of shit Dickenson?"
"Andy, you know how bad this would look for me if we don't get at least life without parole, and his lawyer has threatened to show all those fucking videos if we don't. You and I both know this court and all those families do not need to go through that. And besides, you can lean on the medical expert recommendations for your justification, they all but said it would be cruel and unusual punishment if this loser's big balls aren't emptied a couple of times a day."
"Jesus Bob, I can't believe you are asking me for this. If I agree, you have to promise this is the last time you ever mention anything about that night in Vegas!"
"You have my word judge!"
Two days later the jury trial was terminated as a plea deal was agreed upon by both sides. A lot of relieved rape victims experienced a bittersweet sense of satisfaction as the man who had brutally assaulted them was now headed to prison for the rest of his life.
None however, would ever admit that no other man had ever provided them with more sexual satisfaction before or since, than what Mylo Dickenson did on those faithful nights.
******
18 years later
"Okay Mylo you know the drill, hands behind you up against the cell bars." San Quentin guard Jerry Kincaid ordered as he reached between the bars and attached the handcuffs to Mylo Dickenson's thick wrists. After the restraints were secured, the guard unlocked the heavy door and led the serial rapist down the long corridor past the cells of some of the most brutal killers who had ever "graced" God's green earth.
Many made comments along the way, most referring to Mylo's eventual date with his right hand. Mylo simply smiled the same shit-eating grin that he had every time he'd made this walk twice-a-day for the past 18 years.
But, before the two men would circle back to the room here in the C-block allotted for the relief of Mylo's swollen testicles, they would make the trek across the prison grounds to the temporary infirmary for Mylo's twice-daily insulin shot. Eight years previously, Dickenson had been diagnosed with Diabetes and the guard group came up with this schedule where they would take Mylo to the infirmary followed by his twice-daily masturbation sessions.
"What's it gonna be today Mylo? Another one of those big fat ugly pigs with hair growing from her nipples or a little of that faggot porn?" Jerry Kincaid teased laughingly.
"Probably the fat ugly bitches...by the way, when did your mom start posing for magazine porn Jerry?" Mylo responded with his typical wit.
"Fuck you Mylo," was the only response from the guard who was overmatched intellectually and knew he would lose a verbal sparring match with the convicted rapist. Nonetheless, Kincaid's line was a common teasing theme heaped upon Mylo Dickenson by the Q guards ever since Grant Rawlins had been hired as warden.
For the first twelve years of Mylo's incarceration, he had been supplied with hot mags like Playboy, Penthouse or Hustler for his twice-daily jerk sessions. But not long after the new warden arrived, while familiarizing himself with Mylo Dickenson's bio as he did for all of the inmates, Grant Rawlins carefully studied the court order requiring that the serial rapist be provided porn and a secluded place to satisfy himself twice-a-day. The astute warden observed that there was never a stipulation listed as to the type of porn required.
From that day forward, Mylo Dickenson had been forced to pleasure himself while gazing at fat, ugly, hairy pigs in some of the most tasteless sexual situations, or worse yet for him, gay porn. The new warden, seeking to put his stamp on his San Quentin rein, saw no reason to provide the serial rapist with high-arousal porn materials.
Mylo, with the help of his lawyer, fought like hell to get the previous quality porn reinstated, but their requests were all denied. Mylo resorted to recalling the experiences from the best of his previous sexual conquests for arousal, but he often couldn't achieve climax in the twenty minute window stipulated by the courts without the help of the sexy women from the quality porn mags. He experienced many excruciating days and nights with his blue balls brimming with semen.
Mylo vowed to get revenge on the new warden as the new policy obviously frustrated him to no end and eventually led to him becoming one of the most disruptive inmates in the East Wing. It had remained that way for the past six years.
Now, following a ten minute walk, the two men approached the entrance to the temporary infirmary. Once inside, Jerry Kincaid signed the consenting paperwork authorizing Mylo Dickenson's second insulin shot of the day...
*****
Meanwhile in a large office on the 2nd floor on the other end of the building, Liv Rawlins approached her husband with a flirtatious glint in her eyes, "Hey, I don't recall getting my bad girl spanking..."
The warden smiled, "You'll get it tonight, I made a note in my log that you deserve a special kind of punishment!"
"What if I don't want to wait till later?" She teased. "All your staff left for the long weekend, we have this whole place to ourselves, you could bend me over your desk and administer my punishment right here in this correctional facility. I have been naughty lately..."
"Oh is that right, what naughty things have you done lately?" He played along with a sly smile on his face.
The warden's gorgeous wife pushed her big tits into his chest, "It's more about what I haven't done. I've been married to the same great guy for seven years and tomorrow is our anniversary and I haven't gone down on him in a while..."
"Hmm, that does sound like a punishable offense. But I bet you could get a stay of your sentence if you were to drop to your knees and do it right now!"
"You think he would be okay with that, I bet he is tender down there from all that build-up?" Liv said as she cutely bit her lip.
"Yeah, I think he could make an exception just this one time..."
She looked at him mischievously before she slowly dropped to her knees and ran her tongue along the outside of his pants just below his zipper.
The warden groaned, it had been way too long since his wife had given him head and he was now excited beyond control. He ran his fingers through her thick hair as she reached for his belt and quickly had it and the top button of his jeans undone. His gorgeous wife then proceeded to tantalizingly unzip his fly with her perfectly gleaming white teeth.
Moments later the warden leaned back against the large floor to ceiling bookcase as his pants fell around his ankles. His 6" cock was rock hard and tenting his boxer briefs towards his sexy wife's full pursed lips. The gorgeous brunette reached out and gripped his bulge with her small hand, "Someone looks kind of angry, are you sure he's going to be okay with my naughtiness?"
"Won't know till he's released from his confinement..."
The two of them stared into each other's eyes as she bit her lower lip again before slipping both hands into the band of his briefs and slowly pulling them down, stretching the material to accommodate his stiff cock. Like his pants, she let his boxers fall down around his ankles.
"...He does look kind of angry, let me see if I can make him feel a little better," the warden's sexy wife purred as she reached up and tickled his balls while sliding her slippery tongue from the underside of the base along his length before flicking it playfully on the sensitive skin just under the head.
Grant's head rolled back in complete contentment, "Oh fuck baby, that feels good..." But something then clicked in his head, "Oh damn, we should lock my door hun, I can't get caught doing this in here!"
"Are you serious Grant, you want me to stop?" She asked incredulously before tonguing one of his balls.
"Of course not, but can you just run over and do it...I promise I won't go anywhere!"
His beautiful wife licked her lips before rolling her eyes and letting out a heavy sigh as she rose from her knees and moved towards the door.
*****
Mylo Dickenson sat on the edge of the exam table with his wrists handcuffed behind his back. The infirmary physician, Doctor Dan Schwartz stood in front of him with a syringe in hand as guard Jerry Kincaid stood behind looking at his cell phone.
Without warning, an earthy groan unlike anything any of them had ever heard roared from a place miles below their feet. Suddenly the ground began to shake...
...and shake and shake...
The infamous San Andreas Fault had just ruptured in a manner not experienced in recorded history.
The epicenter was located just off the coast outside the mouth of the Golden Gate between San Francisco and Marin, no more than twelve miles from San Quentin prison. The massive quake immediately registered at a previously incomprehensible mark of 8.8 on the Moment Magnitude Scale.
The devastation caused by this earthquake in such a densely populated area, would make all natural disasters worldwide before it pale in comparison. For Warden Grant Rawlins, it would be even worse...
The ground shook at an unimaginable level for nearly three minutes. Immediate devastation ensued in the Bay Area unlike anything ever seen as buildings, bridges, and freeway overpasses collapsed like a child's tinker toy set. Several East and South Bay reservoir dams burst catastrophically and in the aftermath cities like Livermore, Morgan Hill, and parts of San Jose were instantly washed from the map. The BART tunnel underneath San Francisco Bay was immediately crushed as a Tsunami that dwarfed those in Japan and Indonesia swept across the Bay and virtually cleared the land of everything in its path in the lower lying areas of Berkeley, Emeryville, Alameda, and Oakland. All seven of the Bay Area's bridges sustained heavy damage, none more seriously than the iconic Golden Gate. When the shaking finally stopped, the Northern most tower of one of the most recognizable landmarks in the world leaned perilously in a southern facing direction.
The loss of life was beyond comprehension...and the fires had barely yet begun.
The old prison on the shores of San Francisco Bay was not exempt from the devastation. The central guard tower at San Quentin collapsed into a pile of rubble, immediately killing all 8 guards on watch. In moments, all of the prison cell structures experienced severe damage including the full implosion of the roof on the B-wing building. Luckily (for them) most of the inmates were in the central dining hall at the time of the catastrophe.
Opportunistically, a huge contingent of inmates used the distraction created by the earthquake to bum-rush the guards and overpower them in short order. Within minutes, even as the shaking continued and debris fell from the ceiling, the unyielding horde had disarmed the 25 dumbstruck guards and secured the entire building.
The inmates were now armed and in charge.
*****
In the temporary infirmary, the doctor, guard, and prisoner Mylo Dickenson froze in uncomprehending shock at the extreme shaking the room was experiencing at the moment. Suddenly there was a deafening boom from behind where Mylo sat on the exam table. The doctor's eyes grew huge and a horrified look appeared on his face as he peered over Mylo's shoulder in the direction of the loud sound.
Mylo quickly turned his head to see what had caused the doctor to respond in such a way. As he did, blood spurted from the mouth of guard Jerry Kincaid. Mylo then noticed the huge shard of glass that had pierced his jugular and still protruded from both sides of the dying guard's neck. Unlike a standard infirmary exam room where the tempered window glass would have exploded into a thousand little pieces, the interior window of this converted office was annealed glass that shattered in large shards. One of those huge daggers had exploded from the window frame and impaled the unfortunate guard before he knew what hit him.
