Jail Bait

Cargill Women's Prison: the one place you wouldn't send your worst enemy. This is the closest to hell I ever want to be, but here I am, all because I'd listened to my boyfriend when he said, "All you have to do is sit in the car, baby, and wait for me. I won't be long. I love you." Well, here I am, waiting, and serving out my sentence of 5-10 years for accessory to first degree theft and murder! All I did was drive the getaway car, he killed the security guard!! Aarrrgghhh!!! How stupid was I? Never mind, don't answer that.

Anyway, this is my life now, and it's terrible here. The food is terrible, the living conditions are horrendous; even the guards look the other way when something bad happens. They're probably on the take. We're only let outside two hours a day for exercise and fresh air. I've been here for a few years now, and women get hurt here on a daily basis. I'd been fortunate so far; no one has really bothered me too much. The only bright spot in this hellhole is my cellmate. She's Black, like me, light-skinned, with a cute figure, about 34C-28-36, named Keisha. She came soon after I did, and was thrown into the cell with me. Her crime was similar to mine, so she and I decided to band together and ride this out as long as we could. That would be put to the test sooner than we thought.

She and I were talking quietly one night, so no one would hear us. Laying her head on my shoulder, she told me she'd heard that rapes happen frequently in jail, and I said I'd heard that too. She said, "Sometimes they take women two and three together; one of the girls told me she was made to eat the other girl's pussy. She said she didn't like it, but she had been threatened, so she did it. What do we do when it's our turn? Because you know it's gonna happen."

"Well," I said, "maybe we could familiarize ourselves with each other's bodies, and find out what the other doesn't like, so if we get thrown together, we could do that, and then whoever takes us won't get any pleasure out of our degradation. Maybe they'll leave us alone."

"It's possible," she said, "but what if we start enjoying it? Even if it's painful?"

"I don't know; maybe think of something unpleasant, like an unhappy memory? I remember this guy forcing me to the floor once, trying to rape me. At one point, he stuck his finger in my face, and I bit it. I haven't liked being forced to do anything since then. I'm going to think about that." I said. Keisha came up with an unpleasant memory worse than mine, and she started to cry. I drew her into my arms, and kissed her forehead, crooning and rocking her. She reached out and touched my breast just then, lightly rubbing the nipple and twirling it around. My breath caught in my throat, and I inhaled the scent of her hair just under my nose. We were shielded by a sheet over the bed, so no one could see into our cell. She reached under my shirt to touch my breast, and suckled on the nipple. I leaned back and let her have her way with me. Just from her sucking on me, I could feel myself getting wet. I reached for her breast, but she pushed my hand away. I thought I heard her mumble the word later, but wasn't sure.

I laid down, and she pushed my shirt up over my head. She sucked on both breasts, as if she was the baby daughter I never had. I was having a hard time keeping quiet, but I managed to do so. She stayed there for what seemed an eternity, licking and sucking, before her hands wandered down my stomach and into my soaked panties. I pushed myself up higher on the bed, and she spread my legs. She blew her hot breath on my pussy, and I got chills. I threw my head back and she took that as a sign of surrender.

I felt the tentative touch of her tongue between my closed pussy lips, and then she pushed her tongue in further, and spread them. Her thumbs came into play, and spread my lips open, so she could lick me clean. I thought I would cum again before she got to my clit. When she did get there, she wrapped her lips around it, and hummed on it. She would alternately lick my clit, then blow on it, then she dipped her tongue into my pussy.

Sliding two fingers in, she found my G-spot, and I exploded. She kept her fingers inside me, and came up to kiss me. I could taste myself on her lips. I continued kissing her, and rolled over on the bed, so that she was under me. I pushed her shirt up over her head, and began to suckle on her breasts. They were so warm and full, and I lost myself in them. I was having so much fun playing with them. I slid my hand down to her pants, and slid them down her hips. I kissed her lips, and slid my fingers into her pussy. I brought my fingers up, and could smell her cum on them. I licked my fingers, and she smiled at me. "Please?" she said.

I kissed my way down her taut stomach, my destination, her pussy. I slid one finger into that tight hole, and sucked her clit into my mouth. I heard her clap her hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream. I could feel her muscles clench as she neared orgasm, could hear little gasps of air leaving her lungs as she breathed in and out. When she finally came, I took my time licking her clean, then moved up on the cot and snuggled up next to her. "Well," she giggled, "at least we know what the other likes."

"Yeah," I said. I hesitated for a second, then said, "You know I'm not gay, right?"

"Really? Neither am I, but you could've fooled me; you did a really good job licking me," she said.

"Thanks, I just love cunnilingus, a lot. My boyfriend used to do me a lot, but since I gained so much weight, he stopped. He hadn't done it in about two years."

She sat up, with an incredulous look on her pretty face. "Are you serious? He hasn't gone down on you in all that time, and you stayed with him?"

"Yes, I did. I know, it was dumb, but I always hoped that he would either change his mind, or I would magically lose weight. We never stopped having sex, it's just that part was gone."

She leaned down and kissed me, her hands running over my body. Her lips came up just enough to say, "I'll take care of you while we're here, ok? At least you will be satisfied sexually. Is that ok with you?" Trying to answer after a kiss like that was impossible, so I just nodded my head. She smiled, and went back to kissing me. We took off all of our clothes, and stayed naked the rest of the night, touching, kissing and learning all about each other's bodies. She quickly learned what I liked. After a couple more mind-blowing orgasms, I had to push her away, and we rested for a little while.

She came up on her elbows, and asked, "Are you ok?"

"Yes, for now," I said, breathing heavily, "but we still need to know what the other doesn't like. For instance, I don't like my nipples being bitten really hard. Some people get off on pain; I'm not one of those people. I also don't like it when someone tries to spank me."

"I don't like it when someone touches me here," and she indicated her solar plexus. She said it gave her a creepy feeling, and it always made her angry when someone did it, and she had no idea why that was.

"I have to tell you, if we get thrown together, and we are forced to perform for, whomever, we're going to have to do unpleasant things to each other, and it will probably go on for quite a while. Could you stand that?" She looked up at me and nodded. "Ok," I said, rubbing her back, "then we'll learn to deal with it."

Over the next few days, we stayed in close contact, as close as we could, since we were working in different stations. We'd look at each other and give a wink or a smile, and that made us feel better. At night, we would talk, and discuss what to do. About three months after we'd made love that first time, I was in the laundry room working, and she came running in. Before I had a chance to react, a couple of women burst in, saying vulgar things to her. She ran behind me, and tried to hide. I protected her as best I could, but I was pulled away from her by two other women. The first two women grabbed her by her arms, and she screamed. They stuffed a rag in her mouth, taped it to her face, and ripped her clothes off, exposing her beautiful body for all to see. I lunged forward to stop them, but I was hit in the head. Blood dripped from a gash in my forehead, and it clouded my vision. Someone must have closed and locked the door, because no one seemed to hear her screams or mine. No one came to rescue us.

Next thing I knew, my clothes were being pulled from my body. I could feel harsh fingers pulling and ripping my clothes off of me. It was warm in the laundry room, but I couldn't feel it; my body was covered in gooseflesh. I was brutally tied to a chair. Keisha was paraded around in front of me, and on occasion, someone would spank her butt, leaving red handprints. I didn't know any of the women who were harassing us, but I would remember their voices.

I stopped trying to save us, and looked at Keisha with the look we had agreed on, saying to her, 'we'll be ok, just keep breathing, and we'll get through this'. The biggest woman, who I named 'Bertha', came over to me, and smacked my face, sending my glasses flying. Now, why did she have to do that? I hate when that happens. I got very angry, but didn't move. I spat blood from my mouth, and looked up at her. She was humongous, and she leaned into my face and kissed me. "Mmmmmm, you taste good! Wonder how your pussy tastes?"

Keisha was brought before me, and the gag was pulled from her mouth. Another woman forced her to the floor in front of me. She coughed. She looked up at me, with tears in her eyes. I smiled at her, and winked. That was our cue to say that we would be ok. Keisha was forced to kiss me, and I could hear raucous laughter and taunts from the other women. She was pulled away from me, and taken back behind one of the dryers. I could hear her screaming from whatever was being done to her. I sat there and closed my eyes, listening to her screams, my heart tearing at each one. I knew she wanted me to help her, but I couldn't. They brought her back out, and she was made to go down on me. My legs were held wide open, and someone pushed Keisha's face between them. It didn't feel good at all, so my reaction was genuine. I bucked to get her off of me, and to escape the chair, but I was held fast by the ropes. More laughter followed as I fell down with the chair. I looked up at Keisha, and she was standing there, shaking. I was untied, and held down on the floor. One of the other women attempted to go down on me, and I kicked at her to get her away. She kept trying, and finally succeeded in hurting me.

I tried to yell, but was suffocated by the smelliest pussy imaginable. It was like breathing in the contents of an ashtray, full force, and I could barely hold my breath. Twisting my head this way and that trying to get some air was next to impossible. I couldn't see Keisha anymore, but I could hear her whimpering. I hoped she was ok.

It seemed like hours before we were let up and released. We were both bruised and battered, and well aware that it would probably happen again before it would stop. 'Bertha' got in my face, and snarled, "Don't tell, or we'll be back!

They all left the laundry room, and I crawled over to Keisha, who was in a fetal position on the floor. I didn't dare touch her, but I lay down next to her, and got her to open her eyes and look at me. She had a bruise on one eye, and it was rapidly getting worse. I said, "Are you alright, honey?" She nodded, and closed her eyes again. "I wish I could touch you, to make you feel better. I know I can't, and you probably don't want me to anyway, but I want you to know we survived this, we're the stronger ones, they are the jackals who prey on the weak. They didn't get us, Keisha, we're still here!"

She looked up at me, and smiled weakly. "I'm not as strong as you, I want to die."

"NO! You are not going to die, you are going to live, you hear me? You are not going to let them win! Open your eyes, right now! Fight, Keisha, FIGHT! Fight for your right to win!

Fight for your right to live and have a decent life once you get out of here! Come on baby, fight! Don't fight for me, fight for yourself!"

She opened her eyes, and stared at me, defeat written all over her still pretty face.

I realized that there was only one thing I could do to get her to get her to fight, and that was to make her angry. I sat up, reached over and touched her solar plexus. I felt her flinch a little, and I thought, 'good, there is still some fight left in her yet.'

I continued rubbing lightly, and she mumbled, "Stop."

I said, "Make me."

I did it again; she said, "Stop!"

I said, "Make me!"

I did it again a third time, and she rolled over, with blood in her eyes. "I said, STOP!"

I sat back and said, "I knew you still had some fight left in you. Now we need to use that fight and get these women stopped."

"I don't know what to do, where to go, or who to talk to; we can't trust anyone here." she said.

"I know, we're going to have to think carefully about what we do or say from now on. Don't worry, we'll fix this. Right now, we need to get some medical attention, and fast. You don't look good, and neither do I."

I helped her get up as best I could, touching her as little as possible, and we made our way to the medical station. The nurse took one look at us, and said, "What happened to you?"

I had to come up with a story quickly. She treated our wounds, and let us go. We made it back to our cell long before lights out, and just stayed there all night. She and I held each other for weeks after the attack. It didn't happen again, but I kept my eyes open for anyone else who had that same glazed-over look in their eyes, or if I found a girl who had been molested by 'Bertha'.

I found out that 'Bertha' was a lifer, an inmate who was serving four life sentences, not only for molestation, but for a quadruple murder. Her real name was Rhoda Jean, and she was no one to mess with. She was a frequent visitor to "The Hole", which was a dark, dank cell, two feet below ground level. I heard it stank to high heaven down there, there were rats and mice scurrying around, and it was a place I wanted no parts of. You never knew what time it was when you got out, or whether it was day or night.

I knew we had to be extremely careful who we talked to, and what about. Rhoda Jean had eyes and ears everywhere; it seemed that she ran the jail, instead of the warden. I maintained my vigil in keeping myself and Keisha safe, and kept my job in the laundry. I just refused to remember what had happened there. I met another woman in the laundry, her name was Adele. She told me that she'd had a run in with Rhoda Jean about a year ago, and the same thing had happened to her. She also said that Rhoda Jean rarely attacked the same person twice. "Why does she attack people here anyway? Where does she get off thinking she runs the place?"

Adele said, "She's been here the longest, she knows the ins and outs of this place, and she will kill anyone who gets in her way from what she wants, or who. Watch yourself, ok?"

"Ok, thanks, I will." I said, wondering if I should take her into my confidence. I decided against it, thinking that I should do this on my own. I told Keisha what I had learned, and she said she had learned something too; that one of Rhoda Jean's cohorts, Diane, was about to be transferred to our side of the jail, which means that Diane would be there all the time, looking at us, and telling Rhoda Jean what's going on with us. I was thinking another attack might happen soon, so Keisha and I prepared ourselves. We didn't want to be caught unawares this time.

A day or two later, Keisha was in the commissary getting lunch, and I was a few people behind her. All of a sudden, a noise sounded on the line, and I saw a tray flying in the air. Diane was one person behind Keisha, and she reached around and grabbed Keisha's hair, dragging her across the room.

She was screaming, and no one moved to help her. I left the line and got in Diane's face, stopping her abruptly. She was surprised to see me there, blocking her way. She went to move around me, and I moved in her way again. Next thing I knew, I was sliding across the floor, as someone pushed me out of her way violently, then that person was standing on me. It wasn't Rhoda Jean, it was someone else. I was almost choking, because the woman had her foot on my neck. I pushed her foot off of me, then punched at her leg, right at her knee joint, which put her out of commission. I got up and ran to find Keisha, who, by this time, had been dragged out of the commissary, down the hall and into an office. I made it to the door just before it was slammed shut. I pushed my way in, screaming, "Let her go!" Surprised, Diane let her go. Keisha stumbled away from her, and I got in her face, challenging her. She looked behind me, eyes wide, and I ducked down in time and rolled away. I looked back in time to see her get hit in the head with a knife. Apparently, that knife was meant for me, but she got it instead. Diane fell lifeless to the floor, and...you guessed it, Rhoda Jean was coming after me. She and I were now in a power struggle, and she was winning. She backhanded me, and I hit the wall. She grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back.

She spun me around, teeth bared, breathing in my face, all but choking me with her horrendous breath. "What have you done? Look what you made me do!!" Her hand curled around my neck, and she picked me up off the floor, cutting off my air and choking me. I looked at her, and she had tears in her eyes, she was so angry. She put me down, and I hit the floor, gasping for air. She began to wail loudly about loving Diane so much, and losing her like she did, was unbearable. Keisha came out from where she'd been hiding, and as Rhoda Jean turned on me again, she came up behind her and stabbed her in the back with the knife. "Now you can see Diane again; I hope you're happy, in hell!!"

I looked at Keisha, and opened my arms to her. She came to them gladly, and hugged me. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be okay; but are you alright? You just killed someone." I stroked her hair back from her face, and looked into her eyes. She was crying, but she seemed okay. The door burst open, and suddenly, guards were everywhere. We were separated and questioned, and gave basically the same story, it was self defense. We were sent back to our cell, with no extra charges attached to our sentences.

Our sentences were later commuted, and we were both set free. She and I rented a condo in another city far from the prison once we were out. We both went back to school, got good jobs, and life was great. Keisha got a job at a law office as a paralegal, and I got a job working from home.

One night, Keisha came home after work and said she was going to take a shower and go to bed. I'd been working hard all day too, so I finished up what I had, stretched, and decided to take a shower as well. We had separate bedrooms and bathrooms; this was a really big condo. I came back into my bedroom, and was about to hit the sheets, when I noticed my bed was already occupied. Keisha was there, naked and waiting for me. I smiled and joined her on the bed, reached over and kissed her lips softly. She took my hand and placed it on her pussy. I slid a couple of fingers in, and she was already wet. I used my fingers to bring her off, while kissing her neck and face. With her first orgasm, I could feel her muscles clenching around my fingers. I pulled out of her, and sucked her juices off one finger, and put the other one in her mouth. She sucked at it greedily, then said, "I want to eat your pussy now."

"Right now?" I asked, deciding to tease her a little.

"Right now," she said, and she began to move over me. I scooted away from her, and covered my pussy with my hands.