0 comments/ 31541 views/ 2 favorites Doing Hard Time By: Diamond-Dan When I walked Into the house, everything was quiet. The further I entered in, I began to hear what sounded like two or three voices coming from the upstairs. Two of the voices were male and I heard what sounded like a female voice that was being muffled. My shift at the prison seemed as though it would never end. Being the Captain of the Guards was very time consuming with all of the paperwork involved, not to mention having to join in on two inmate unrests, which makes you very tired with the downside after each adrenaline rush along with the physical exertion as well. Now, hearing strange voices coming from inside of my own house, my adrenaline peaks again. As I near the foot of the stairway, I finally hear a familiar voice. I hear my wife's voice say, "Ohhhh yes, Baby, shoot that hot cum down my throat." My emotions turn from fear and defensive nature, to anger and hurt. Now even more curious, I slip off my shoes and begin to climb the stairs slowly and as quietly as I can. The entire time it takes me to reach the second floor, my mind whirls with confusion and anger. Her words that she had just said aloud, kept ringing through my mind and heart. She had told me many different times in our six years of marriage that only "sluts and whores" would let a man cum in their mouths. Also, she told me repeatedly that my cum made her gag with its texture and taste. I assumed that it was my problem and had given up, out of courtesy to her, about even hoping or suggesting that she perform a complete oral blowjob. I mean, why would I ask a woman that I loved so dearly to do something that she detested so greatly? I was now at the top of the stairs and I could hear the grunts and groans of sex emitting from my partially opened bedroom door. I was hoping that my wife, Kate, was watching one of a few adult films that we had acquired over the years, and that perhaps she was pleasing herself as she watched them. As I reached the opened door, I peeked around the door jamb to see that my fears were very real. There was my wife, riding some guys cock in a reverse cowgirl style, her arms stretched back against his chest for support, while another man stood at her face, sliding his hard, thick cock in and out of her mouth, rapidly. Apparently, my timing of seeing them going at it was in time with their imminent climaxes. Kate groaned like I've never heard her do before, and at precisely the same time, the guy she was fucking bellowed that he was going to cum. He slipped his cock out of her splayed pussy and I watched, as spurt after spurt of thick white ropes of cum splashed against her pussy lips and all over her pubic mound. I guess the humming in her mouth and throat caused the man that she was blowing, to release his pent up seed as well. He literally popped his hard cock from her mouth as he continued to jack the shaft for all he was worth. Kate growled her disappointment, but tilted her head back and opened her mouth as wide as she could. Instantly, I saw a fat thick line of hot cum leap from the purple tipped cock head and land squarely inside of her mouth, only to be followed by three or four more hefty lines of his sticky goo. Kate gulped down the sperm like she was drinking hot chocolate. She licked her lips and opened up once again. This time two more smaller squirts landed on her tongue. Kate sucked the now deflating tip between her lips and I watched as her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, trying to devour every drop of cum from his spent cock. I waited outside the door for her to open her mouth to release his cock, then I barged into the room. Kate jumped, then squealed when she saw me standing in the doorway. The two guys scrambled to grab their clothes that had been thrown onto the chair by the dresser. "Oh my God! What, why are you..... I'm sorry Bruce," then she began to sob. One of the two men began to apologize. I glared at him and held up my hand. "Get the fuck outta here before I do something that I'll regret!" Obviously, they had enough sense not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and ran past me holding their clothes. I looked at Kate as she sat on the bed, smeared with cum from her lovers, and crying as she watched my every move. I looked at her and said, "Get dressed. Put on something nice and sexy." "Honey, why? Come on Babe, lets talk," she pleaded. "Get dressed. Now!," I responded without so much as a flinch, and walked back down stairs. Thirty minutes later, as I sat, still in my uniform, at the bar in the kitchen drinking down a very stiff rum and coke, Kate came down the stairs. She walked over to me and slid her arm across my back. "Bruce, say something! It's not good to hold it all in. Let me have it. I deserve it, I fucked up!" I stood up without saying a word and grabbed her hand and practically drug her out to the car. She did look nice, the way she was dressed. She wore that tight fitting and very short mini-dress that she bought for our fifth anniversary. She also had her spike heels and nylons that went to her mid thigh with lace at the top. I could tell that she had showered before getting dressed, by her fresh scent, and void of any scents of the two men nor their essence. "Where are we going, Bruce?" she asked. "I need to get something from work, then I thought we would go to dinner. Okay with you?," I asked in my normal tone, which by the way, took all that I could muster. "Sure," she replied, her voice beginning to ease from worry. We arrived at the prison, and made it through the checkpoints and up at my office on the third floor. I made sure that on the way to my office, that we had to walk down one wing of prison cells that were occupied. In case you didn't know, the portrayals of inmates that you've seen in the movies about the hoots and hollers and crass remarks when an outsider, not to mention a female outsider walks through their domain was very accurate. I had just made Kate walk the gauntlet, so to speak. Guys standing in their cells making wolf whistles and crude remarks of what they'd like to do to her as we walked by, echoed through the hallway. I knew that she silently responded to the attention, because the redolence of her perfume was much stronger from the heat of her flesh as the blood raced through her veins. "What a slut, she is," I thought. We walked in to my office and I sat behind my desk, while Kate sat in one of the padded chairs across from me. I looked at a paper on my desk and pretended disgust as I tossed it back down. "I have to handle something before we go. I'm sorry, Baby," I said. "No no, that's alright Hon. Do what you need to do," she responded. I thought as she said it, "I AM going to do what I need to do. Bitch." I picked up the phone and called my night Chief. "Juan, I need to see my three Trustees in my office, Pronto." I sat the phone back onto the cradle and looked at Kate, "This shouldn't take too long." Kate looked up from the magazine she was reading and just blew a kiss to me rather than say anything, silently acknowledging what I had just said. Within three minutes, there was a solid, three hard knocks at my office door. "Enter," I said. Three Trustees, Jim, Eddie and Michael, walked in. All three of them gave Kate the "once over" very quickly as they stepped inside the office. "Lock the door, Eddie," I said. Kate was still oblivious behind her magazine, or so I thought, as I began to talk with the Trustees. "Guys, I'd like to introduce my wife, Kate," as I motioned my hand to where she was sitting." Kate dropped the magazine long enough to nod her head at the three men beside her. I continued, "Now I know all three of you men. Each of you are short timers here and have been exemplary in your behavior while you have been here. Jim, you were sent here for fraud, Eddie, you for trafficking cocaine, and Michael for breaking and entering, correct?" All three men nodded that what I had just said was correct. "All three of you are set to be discharged in two days. Now having been incarcerated for ten, eight, and seven years respectively, I imagine that having been without a woman in that length of time has been rather demanding on your libido, hasn't it?" Kate dropped the magazine, now, and looked at me. I think the fact that my hazel colored eyes had turned to a dark steel gray, usually indicating anger or sexual excitement to Kate, made her nervous. I saw her take a deep breath and a hard gulp. "I would consider it a personal favor to me, and now that I think about it, a favor to the outside world, if you three men would release some of your sexual energy, so I won't be seeing you guys back in my prison on rape or assault charges," I said in a demanding tone. Kate began pulling her short dress down as best she could, but to no avail. Her slutty dress along with her good looks and fresh perfumed scent, prevented her from even remotely looking proper. Eddie was of Latino descent and was the youngest of the three, at about twenty six years old. He unzipped his prison issued pants to release his cock. Jim, an older Caucasian man in his forties followed Eddie's lead and did the same. Michael, a black man in his early thirties was the last to pull his cock out. You may be thinking that there is no way that these guys would just pull their cocks out and start playing with themselves, just because they were told to do so. All I can say is, you are mistaken! Remember, these guys have been locked away from women for at least seven years, and the only time they have been able to be this close to a woman dressed like a slut, has been in their minds or on the pages of a magazine. And now, Kate knew it too. I began talking again, "Here is the catch. This beautiful woman, whom I have just recently discovered, that she likes having more than one man at a time, MUST give you her permission to touch her. Understood?" All three men nodded that they understood. With me knowing the law, I didn't want to risk any of these guys being brought up on rape charges and having to spend more time in jail. As far as Kate, I really didn't give a shit what she wanted anymore. I am hurt beyond belief and this is my vengeance. This would be my last time to be with her, sexually. Eddie was flailing away at his dark brown cock with his hand, and began to walk next to Kate. Jim and Michael were more conditioned, and began to fully remove all of their clothes until they were buck naked. Jim too, was fully erect and Michael was about half erect. Kate started to get up from the chair, when I sternly told her to sit back down. I'm not sure if it was fear of what I might do next, or her guilt, or her desire, but she sat back into the chair. As Eddie stood next to her, jacking his hard six inch cock, I watched as Kate turn her head to look at his prick. Jim stood on the opposite side and began working his shorter, but fatter cock in the same manner. Michael stood directly in front of Kate and massaged his heavy black balls with one hand, while he would slowly pull his cock from the base as he squeezed it. His eight inch cock began to swell to its full length and girth. Kate slid down in the chair to relax as best she could. I could tell that the musk from three hard cocks was filling not only her nostrils but her very soul, as I saw her hand begin to massage one of her own breasts. The sticky noises that the three cocks made, as they each had the foreskin slide up to their heads and back down again, while the men jacked off inches from Kate's pretty and flushed face. It was beginning to cause a stir in my loins as well. My hurt was being overtaken by my revenge of what I was having Kate go through. Knowing that I too, would finally have MY way with her at the end of it all. "Let them touch you, Kate. You know that you want them to. Just say it," I goaded. Her voice rang in the air just seconds after I said that. "Fuck me, boys. Take me any way that you want," she said in such a sultry tone. Eddie moved closer to her and stuck his tanned cock head to her red painted lips. Her mouth opened partially, and I watched as Eddie sank his entire cock into her hot wanton mouth, up to his balls. Her mouth now replaced his hand as she began to bob up then down on his hard cock shaft. Jim was sucking on her breast, after he had pulled down the taut material of her dress, exposing them. His tongue would swirl around the nipple, then his mouth would engulf it completely. Each time he pulled away, the heavy breast would make a popping noise from his firm suction. Each time, her nipple became harder and jutted away from her creamy mound further. Michael was now completely rock hard and he knelt between her legs. Kate's dress was riding high above her thighs from being pushed around by Eddie, and her wiggling from Jim's assault on her breasts. Michael tugged her sheer thong to one side, exposing her wet and glistening pussy lips. I watched his shiny bald head lean in and saw his very long, pink tongue stick out from his lips as he touched her pussy lips .It would then disappear into her depths. His tongue must have slid inside of her steaming pussy a good three inches. Kate lifted her hips up and away from the chair with each long, slow deliberate piercing of her wet pussy with his hot tongue. I stepped closer to the chair where Kate was being taken, to watch closer and with more intent. Michael's tongue was gathering the thicker, slippery nectar from deep within her, as they stayed connected by a strand of pussy juice to his tongues tip. By now, Jim and Eddie were having their cocks swapped back and forth by Kate, as she would alternate licking and sucking their hard shafts and balls. I was now nude as I moved in to help orchestrate the show. My own cock was hard as steel and drooled copious amounts of pre-cum. While Michael lapped at her clit and pussy with his oversized tongue, I told Eddie and Jim to turn around. Now their asses were where their rock hard cocks used to be, by her pretty face. "Put your face in their asses, Kate." She leaned in to Jim's ass cheeks and nuzzled her nose between the crack. "Jim, spread them, just like you'd do for the Doctor," I told him. With Jim's ass spread and his dusty blonde asshole exposed, I said, "Lick him in the center, Baby." Kate stuck her pointed tongue out and licked firmly against his bung. I watched as Jim stepped up on his tip toes when she did. I instructed Eddie to do the same as Jim, and to get ready, because he was next. Eddie's puckered hole was void of any hair, for what reasons, I didn't know, or care. I leaned down next to Kate's head and could hear the squishing sounds being made, as she lapped like a wild woman at Jim's wet asshole. "There's someone on the other side waiting for you My Dear." Kate didn't waste a second. She turned from one side of the chair to the other and began to lick at Eddie's tight little bung hole. Eddie had never stopped jacking his cock since he had first pulled it out, and with in a minute of Kate lapping at his ass, he spun around and buried his cock as deeply into Kate's mouth as he could. Kate bobbed two times when Eddie grunted like a boar hog and unleashed six or seven long spurts of hot jism into Kate's gulping mouth. She held him in her mouth for a minute after he stopped quaking, to retrieve every drop of cum that she could coax from him, before releasing his limp cock. Michael had been concentrating his tonguing efforts more on Kate's clit than inside of her, the entire time that Kate had been licking ass and drinking cum. When Michael drove his tongue deep inside of her then straight up to her flesh trigger. She moaned like a woman possessed as her ass lifted from the chair and shoved against his soft hot lips, as his tongue deluged her twitching clit as fast and furious as he could. Her legs were still shaking from her intense orgasm, when she went back to work on Jim's still exposed ass. She lapped at his puckered anus with a fervent passion now. I watched as she would jab at the pink muscled ring as if she were trying to fuck it with her pointed tongue. Jim was now stroking his hard shaft while her tongue attended to his exposed ass hole. Michael was now standing at the side of the chair where Eddie had been. His face was wet with her climax and, the office lighting glistened off of his dark chocolate brown skin where the wet slippery juices were. Kate trained her attention from Jim's well licked ass over to Michaels thick, long, black cock. The tip of his cock was straining in its flesh sheath so hard, it had a deep, purple hue to it. She licked the pre-cum glazed head before she attempted to take his cock into her mouth fully. She had to stop about six inches down to relax her throat. Even after a few minutes, she couldn't manage any more of his hot dick into her mouth that six and a half inches. She began to bob up and down on it, seeming satisfied that she tried to accommodate his length. Michael didn't really care, either. Jim was now standing in front of Kate as she sat sucking Michael's enormous black cock. I stepped in and said, "Kate get on the floor onto your knees so these hungry men can fuck you like you need to be fucked." Vehemence filled my words. Kate got down on all fours as I had told her. By now, Eddie was ready for more action, his Latino heat roiling through his balls once again. I told Jim to lie down under Kate so he could fuck her pussy. Quickly, he scurried under her frame and made his insertion. Even with such a fat cock as his, Kate easily accommodated his size from the honey that coated her pussy from her climax and the tongue lashing that Michael had just given her. Her boobs began to flail in Jim's face as he started thrusting his fat cock in and out of her. Michael stood in front of Kate as Eddie positioned himself behind her. Kate gobbled Michael's cock back into her mouth and picked up on the rhythm that she had before they changed positions. His heavy black balls swayed with each thrust into her hungry mouth. Eddie was smearing his dark brown cock head all around her ass cheeks, gathering the juices that had run from her pussy, combined with the spit that Michael had left behind, making his cock very slippery. He then aimed his cock head at her wrinkled bung hole, and began swabbing at it gently. Because of his earlier release, I knew that he would use enough care not to just ram her ass. A few minutes of pressing and swabbing, and I saw the brown tip of his cock gain entry into Kate's hot little ass. My soon to be ex-slut was now completely filled with hard, hot cock. I watched as the three cons filled every hole that she had. I began to stroke my cock for my big finale as they each sawed in and out of her. Jim was the first to cum. His fat cock plunged in and out of her so fast and hard that her boobs slapped at his face with each thrust. He grunted loudly as his cock began to pump his semen into her. When she felt his heat filling her depths, it triggered another climax for her. She muffled a moan while sucking Michaels cock as her climax sent her deeper into lust. Jim let his limp cock slip out of her, followed by a virtual river of cum. The thick, sticky seed poured from her twitching twat and pooled in Jim's pubic hair and over his flaccid cock. As I watched Jim collect his composure under Kate, I heard Michael bellow that he was going to cum. I looked up where he was literally fucking her mouth and saw him grab Kate by the sides of her head. His cock unloaded volley after volley of thick sperm into her gulping mouth. Obviously, the first jet of cum blasted against the back of her throat, because I saw her mid-section and back hunch in a violent gag reflex. Michael was oblivious to this, and held her face buried on his convulsing cock, deep in her mouth. As quickly as her gag reflex cam, it subsided. I listened as she drank each pearl strand of his cum as it white washed her mouth. Doing 'Hard' Time The unlovely buildings of the Benton Correctional Facility squatted on the edge of the desert and within its electrified borders there dwelt a combustible mix of a thousand men. All of them had been found guilty of offences meriting serious time. It was no holiday camp. The governor of Benton, John Reynolds, lived in a secluded house in an affluent area twenty miles away. The grounds of the house were extensive and the governor was talking to his wife Marcia over lunch one weekend about the difficulty of maintaining them. How Styles (their regular gardener) was doing a great job when he came each week but was knocking on in age now for the more strenuous of the activities required to keep everything in good order. "Those half-rotting trees, for example," the governor pointed out. Marcia nodded vaguely. She was only half listening. "We really have to get rid of them," the governor said. "I know, John, I know." "Hey, how about we put it on the program?" "What do you mean?" "The RUN program, honey. You know." RUN - 'Release Unless Negative' - was a scheme which allowed the freeing before standard minimum term of those prisoners who had shown consistently excellent conduct during their time inside and who posed zero threat to society. But there were strings. Inmates accepted onto the program were licensed for day release on certain designated afternoons over a period of six months to do various bits and pieces in the vicinity. Only if they passed muster with this would they receive a positive overall assessment and be allowed full and final exit from BC. A negative meant back to square one with no second chances. So possible to fail, yes, but it was unusual nevertheless. A guy 'on the run' (how this status was colloquially referred to) was highly motivated not to mess up and the tasks required, benefit-the-community things like sweeping the streets, helping out in the communal parks and such, weren't exactly rocket science. It was, all in all, a scheme which worked well. Governor Reynolds had instigated it approximately three years ago and he was proud of his baby. "I know what it is, John." Marcia's tone was playfully affectionate, recognizing this hobby horse of her husband's, recalling the countless times he'd held forth on the subject. Although exactly how the program operated, she wasn't sure, since whenever he went into the finer detail of it she tended to switch off. The governor smiled at her fondly. Marcia was his second wife. He'd been married to her for six months and he absolutely doted on her. Marcia was decades younger than him and she was very beautiful. She was out of his league - a fact that he was delighted to admit to all and sundry - and not a day passed by when he didn't thank his heavenly stars that she was with him and seemed content to stay that way. Did Marcia exploit her husband's adoration a teeny bit sometimes? Sure she did. She twisted him around her little finger. But he didn't mind. He got plenty in return. His lovely young wife ran the house and their social life superbly well, and she did certain other things superbly well too. That John Reynolds looked forward to going to bed each night, for example, was something of an understatement. The governor was a happy man. "Ok, so we have one of the guys come by and do a few hours out there. We get a great looking exterior, he gets another small step to freedom... Neat, huh?" Marcia could see that her husband was pleased with himself. "Sure, hun, good idea." "Course, it will mean having him here," said the governor. The governor regarded his wife carefully as he said this. Despite his power and status, the fact that his word was iron law around BC, he'd never do anything of significance involving house and home without her approval. Marcia's mental wheels were spinning. She loved John and was happy enough being married to him; however there was only so much shopping and socialising with girlfriends, going to the gym or the country club, that a person could do and she'd been getting rather bored with life lately. The more she mused about one of the prisoners coming to work at the house the more she liked the prospect. Certain possibilities sprang to mind. "But just for a few hours, right?" she said. "Yes, darling. Just be for one afternoon. Weekday afternoons is when we schedule the outside activities." "And he'd be supervised by one of the guards?" "No need for that. Point is to demonstrate that they can be trusted." "But can't they just up and run?" "Never happens. Like I've told you before, Marcia, they're tagged. Get caught in no time. Besides, why run when you'll soon be out anyway if you play your cards right?" "Guess that's incentive enough to behave themselves," Marcia acknowledged. The governor nodded vigorously. "Believe me, it is. You know how it works, sweetheart... any trouble whatsoever and they're busted back and looking at a full stretch." Marcia was looking settled and satisfied now. "Ok, so great." "Really?" "Sure, hun." "So I'll go ahead and fix that up, darling girl, will I?" Marcia smiled serenely across the table and nodded her consent. ** The following Friday, Governor Reynolds came home with a file. After he'd showered and changed, he presented it to his wife along with her usual pre-dinner campari soda. "You're looking great, honey," he told her, as he handed her the drink. Marcia smiled up from the sofa. She was wearing sprayed-on jeans and a bright pink tee-shirt. She knew exactly how delicious she looked. "Oh, and what's this?" she said, taking the file. Her husband fixed himself a large scotch on the rocks and joined her on the couch. "Take a look," he suggested. Marcia flipped quickly through the file. It contained half a dozen pages, each of which gave brief detail on a particular BC inmate: name, a head photo, age, what he was in for, time served and time still remaining. "What exactly am I looking at?" The governor swirled his drink and took a generous mouthful before replying. "What you're looking at, sweetheart, are the candidates." "The candidates?" "The guys who are eligible to come and work at the house. That thing we talked about, remember?" "Oh my god, yes!" Marcia did remember. It hadn't been mentioned since first mooted and she'd thought that perhaps the idea had been dropped. She was glad that it hadn't. "Ok, so those are the candidates," the governor repeated. "I see. Right." Marcia resumed her study of the file, this time with more focus. "I've screened out all the murderers and rapists." "Thank goodness for that!" The governor chuckled and sipped at his scotch. "So, of those, who do you think?" Marcia's eyes widened. "I get to choose?" The governor smiled indulgently at her. "If my wife is agreeing to be on the same premises as one of these guys then at least she ought to have some input on which one." "Well if you put it that way," grinned Marcia. She put her glass down so she could really concentrate on the 'candidates'. "Ok, him," she announced after a few minutes of silent appraisal. She removed a single sheet from the file and passed it over. "Jack Vickers?" "Yeah, he seems fine to me." Marcia tossed the file down and looked expectantly at her husband. She'd selected the youngest (he was thirty three) and most physically attractive of the men on offer and she was a little anxious about his reaction. But she needn't have worried. "Good choice." "You think?" "Yes. Vickers is an ok guy." "That's good to hear, hun." "Plus he got on RUN pretty early and he's more than halfway through it, which means if he's negative he has five years to do instead of just a couple more months, which means..." "Which means he's gonna be doing a spectacular job when he comes here!" Marcia interrupted gleefully. "You got it, sweetheart. He'll be super keen to impress." "We'll have the best looking place in the county!" The governor laughed at that and got up to refresh his drink. When he rejoined her on the sofa, Marcia snuggled in close and she kissed him long and softly on the lips. Her hand crawled up his thigh and into his lap. "I think something is stirring!" she giggled. The governor was panting slightly and his own hands had started to roam. "C'mon, baby, let's go to bed," he grunted. Marcia wriggled away, laughing. "Dinner will be ready soon," she teased. "Screw dinner!" "Rosa will be ecstatic hearing that." Rosa was their cook and housemaid. A robust Mexican woman of indeterminate age who'd been with them since just after they married, Rosa lived in and was therefore always on duty. The only exception to this was the one day each week when she went to visit her son, a longish trip which had her leaving the house early in the morning and not returning until late the same evening. The governor grinned and gathered himself. "Anyway, look, we should finish arranging this," Marcia said. "The thing with Vickers?" "How is it gonna work exactly?" The governor nodded, businesslike now, and laid it out for her. "Ok, so he'll be driven here after lunch by one of the guards, dropped off at two say... then he'll be picked up again later at about five... three hours should be enough for what we need doing." "Doesn't the poor thing get a drinks break?" Marcia said, raising an elegant eyebrow at her husband. "It's not meant to be a picnic, darling." "I know, hun, but still... hot work out there... guy's gonna need something cold to keep him going." "Ok, so Rosa can take him out some iced water. Or lemonade or something if there's any going. Hey, you maybe know this already, but no beer. Alcohol is totally verboten. Just water or lemonade, Marcia, ok?" Marcia rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to tell Rosa that," she said, deadpan. "Right." "Like if he asks her for a six pack of bud... or a vodka martini over ice with an olive... I'll make it clear that that's just not on the agenda." "Ok ok," said the governor, raising his hands. Marcia smirked happily at him. "So, when?" she asked. "Next week is what I'm thinking. Sooner the better, right?" "But what day?" The governor paused to think for a moment. "Should we say he comes Tuesday, same day as Styles?... That way Styles can tell the guy what to do and he can supervise while he's doing it." Marcia shook her head. "Not such a great idea, darling." "Oh?... Why not?" "Well, you know Styles. He'll get kinda flustered about having someone else around out there. No, honey, that's not going to work too well." The governor was about to argue the point but thought better of it. "Maybe you're right. But weekends are out, and Mondays we don't do any program stuff, so if Tuesday is no good that only leaves three days open... what about Friday afternoon?" Marcia shook her head again. "I have my mother coming over then and you know how she likes to yabber to all and sundry. Wouldn't want your guy exposed to that, hun, would we?" The governor cracked a sardonic grin. "Not if we want him to get any work done," he said. "Which we do," said Marcia. The governor gave up gracefully. "Ok, sweetie, you tell me. What day is best for you?" "Wednesday," Marcia announced firmly. "Wednesday?" "Yes. Wednesday. I'll go through things with Styles the day before so I'll be able to tell Vickers what we want doing. I'll supervise him a bit too. You know, make sure he's doing stuff right." "But Wednesday is Rosa's day off, sweetie, have you forgotten that? It'll be just you in the house." "I know, hun, but it can't be helped. Look, it'll be totally fine. Be better if Rosa was here, sure, but I can handle it. Honestly, darling, I don't mind. Thursday is the only alternative and that's no good because I have my tennis lesson." "Thought you had that on Mondays," protested the governor. "Fact, I'm sure you do... like last Monday you told me all about..." Marcia held her hand up. "I've changed it, darling." "Oh." "Mondays are becoming a real bore at the club, hardly anyone around, so starting next week I've switched to Thursdays." (She made a mental note to call the club at the first opportunity and move her lesson to Thursday.) "Ok, but that shouldn't matter," the governor persisted. "I'd have thought it does matter." "You don't have to hang around the whole time if Rosa is here. You just need to be at the house to meet and greet the guy, explain the job to him, and then again at the end so you can sign off on his form to confirm everything went ok, and in between you can go and do whatever... I'd do it myself if I didn't have to be on site all day." Marcia drained her drink and took her time before dealing with this. "My lesson is at one thirty." "Can't you move it?" "Not really. They're pretty blocked on Thursdays. Hard enough getting that slot in the first place." "Ah." "See the problem now, darling?" "Mmm," said the governor reluctantly. "So that leaves Wednesday." Marcia had a triumphant gleam in her eye. "I suppose it does. And it leaves my darling wife completely on her own all afternoon with one of my convicts." "Who isn't the violent sort, right?" "No... true... he isn't." "And who is going to behave impeccably and do a fantastic job out there and not give me a moment's trouble... on account of the fact that if he hacks me off in any way I put it on his appraisal, and I tell you all about it, and he gets failed and has to spend another five years in jail instead of getting out well before Christmas when it's already now middle of August... do I have that a hundred per cent correct?" "You do," admitted the governor. His wife could be very persuasive. "Ok sweetheart, if you're happy with that I guess I am too," he said. (He wasn't, frankly, but had decided to let it go.) Marcia grinned smugly. She leaned into her husband, intent on another smooch, but they were interrupted by Rosa entering the room and announcing that dinner was served. ** At precisely two o'clock on Wednesday afternoon the car pulled up to the house. "Quite a place," said Jack Vickers. "Yeah," grunted the guard, killing the engine. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his breast pocket. "Still don't understand why we can't wear shades," said Jack. The guard didn't respond. "Why is that, Jennings?... Why can't we wear shades when we're out doing this stuff?... Scared we'll look too cool?" "Rules." Jennings wasn't in the mood for conversation. The two men sat in silence for a minute or so. "So, we gonna get moving?" asked Jack. "Boss said to wait here. The wife will come out and tell you what you're doing." Shortly afterwards the front door opened and Marcia emerged. "Ok," muttered Jennings and both he and Jack got out of the car. "Hi," said Marcia, offering her hand first to the guard. "It's Jennings, isn't it?" Jennings nodded. "Hey, Mrs Reynolds." Marcia turned to Jack. "And you must be Vickers." "Yes, Maam," said Jack. He doffed his baseball cap and they shook hands. Jack was surprised. He'd expected the governor's wife to be bland and middle-aged (rather like her husband) but here he was looking at a woman who was younger than he was. She was a looker too. A classy, well proportioned brunette. The appeal was downplayed by the hair tied back and the absence of makeup, by the baggy slacks and even baggier top she was wearing, but it was undeniably there. Marcia by contrast wasn't at all surprised. Vickers was just like his photo. No Brad Pitt or anything, but definitely more than ok, and despite the standard prison issue garb she could tell that he had an excellent physique. Not bad at all, thought Marcia. She congratulated herself on her selection. She told Jennings that she was fine, that she'd see him back there at five o'clock, and he nodded and got back into the car. The guard drove off, leaving Marcia and the prisoner stood together on the driveway. "So... Jack... you ready to get started?" she said, smiling brightly. "Sure thing, Maam." "Gosh, all this 'Maam' business... wouldn't you rather call me Marcia?" Jack shrugged. "They said to call you Maam." "Because I'm the governor's wife?" "I guess." Marcia stifled a giggle. "Ok, I suppose I can get used to it. Let's go out back and I'll show you what's what." She moved off around the side of the house and Jack followed, fighting to not imagine what her body looked like under the rather unflattering outfit she had on. Such thoughts came naturally to a man who'd been forcibly incarcerated in an all-male environment for what seemed like an eternity but they were thoughts which did him no favours, especially when they featured the wife of the governor, and thus if at all possible were to be suppressed. And was it possible? Just about, if he used his favourite technique, which was to think about what he'd order for dinner the first night he got out of BC. Still, this Marcia Reynolds was a babe and Jack was kind of relieved that she was dressed down the way she was. They'd reached the back of the house and were looking out over the grounds. "That's the thing," said Marcia, pointing at a row of unkempt and sickly looking trees running up one side of the main lawn. "We need them cut down and then chopped up for collection. You think you can do that?" Jack nodded. The job would be more onerous than he'd been hoping but he reckoned he could manage it in the time. His spirits drooped slightly, however, when Marcia showed him the axe propped against the trunk of one of the trees. "You don't have an electric one?" he asked, careful to keep any hint of complaint out of his voice. "Electric?" "A power saw. That'd get through it easier." "I'm afraid not, no." Marcia bent to lift the heavy implement and had to put it down after a few seconds. "Won't this do? It feels pretty powerful to me." "Guess it is too," said Jack, taking it off her and hefting it himself before placing it on the ground in front of him. "I'll leave you to it then," Marcia said. "Maam." "I'll pop out later to see how you're doing." "Ok, Maam." "Oh just one thing." "Maam?" "It's pretty hot out here. I suggest you lose the overalls." Jack was unsure how to respond to this. "Ok?" said Marcia. "Um, I don't have that much on underneath." "Don't worry, sugar, I won't mind." "Ok, Maam... thanks," mumbled Jack. He was thrown by the suggestive remark and he didn't really know what he was thanking her for. Marcia remained standing there, looking at him. "So go on then... your overalls." The flirty tone had disappeared, replaced by a crisp note of command. "Take them off." "You mean now?" "Hey, what happened to the 'Maam'?" Marcia snapped. What the fuck? Was she kidding around? Jack decided he'd better proceed on the basis that she wasn't. "I'm sorry, Maam," he said meekly. "Because you don't want me to put 'rudeness' on your report, Jack, do you?" "No, Maam." Damn right he didn't. Something like that could easily spell a 'negative'. It didn't bear thinking about. "Thought not," said Marcia. "But taking these off... you mean do it now, Maam?" "Yes, sugar, right now." Seemed that something was happening here - exactly what Jack wasn't certain but he sensed the potential for trouble. Whatever, the important thing was not to antagonize the woman. He was close to getting out of BC - very close - and was determined to do nothing to compromise that. Sixty days until he was free, if he got through the rest of his RUN time ok, and he was damn well going to! Doing 'Hard' Time Jack stepped out of his garish orange prison overalls and stood in front of Marcia in just his boxers and tee-shirt, pair of sneakers and a cap. All he had on apart from that was his electronic ankle tag, secured such that the only way to remove it was to cut his foot off. He felt a little stupid, all the more so because of the rather condescending way she was surveying him. "Tell me Jack... speaking of rudeness... do you normally wear a hat in the presence of a lady?" He got the message. The baseball cap joined the overalls on the ground next to him. "Ok, now your shirt." The glint in Marcia's eye was indicating nothing but grief for Jack if he didn't obey. "There, that's much better, isn't it?" "Maam." Marcia gazed coolly, appraisingly, at the near-naked prisoner, savouring her power over him, enjoying a thrilling frisson of ownership. This was a blast. This was proving every bit as entertaining as she'd anticipated it would be - a "hunky slave for the afternoon!" was how her best friend Trish had put it when the two of them had giggled about it the other day. The 'slave' was looking at the floor, reluctant to make eye contact. Marcia thought about toying with him a while longer. It was tempting. But no, there was plenty of time. Would spoil the fun to rush things. "Ok, chop chop!" she smirked and she turned and walked off into the house. ** Jack put his discarded clothes in a neat pile off to the side. Then he cleared his mind and he picked up the axe and got stuck in hacking at the trees. It was back-breaking work, cutting down each one and chopping it into manageable pieces of timber, but he forced himself to keep up the pace and he made good progress. It was hellish hot, though. He hadn't liked having to strip in front of Marcia Reynolds but he was glad to be down to his shorts. Even so he was starting to suffer in the heat. The sun was fierce and he could have done with his cap. Jesus, the sweat was dripping off him! He couldn't help looking longingly at the swimming pool which shimmered invitingly just a few yards from where he toiled. God, what he wouldn't give to stop what he was doing and plunge into the cool blue water! He badly needed a drink too. He was parched. How long to go?... Not sure, he had no watch, but he reckoned he'd been working for about an hour. Not much more than that, he hoped, because judging by the number of trees still in place he wasn't yet halfway through the full task. Jack gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts. He remembered that Marcia had said she'd be out to check on him. Ok, so let's make sure that when she did she could see that he was on schedule to finish by five o'clock! At this point (and Jack's inner clock was good, it was just after three) Marcia did come out to check on him and she looked a little different to how she had before. Her hair was down and she had some lipstick on, but that wasn't what was grabbing Jack's attention. The thing he noticed was that she'd changed out of the slacks and shapeless top into a red dress. The dress was short and skimpy and clung like a second skin to her stunning figure. Jack swore under his breath when he saw this vision of female loveliness appear on the back terrace. For Jack Vickers, as for many of the BC inmates, being deprived of sexual contact with women was the worst aspect of life inside, but the way that most of the others seemed to deal with it - nude pinups on the walls of their cells fuelling frequent masturbatory fantasies - didn't work for him. Why torture yourself like that? He had no such pictures and he didn't wank himself raw. Much better to avoid or sublimate all of that stuff, channel it elsewhere; it was something he'd been pretty good at doing over his years of imprisonment, at least until now. I could do without this, Jack thought, his eyes lingering on the approaching Marcia Reynolds. He tried desperately but unsuccessfully not to ogle as she sauntered barefoot across the grass towards him, shoulders back and chest out, wiggling her hips in the tight sexy dress. Oh god. This was just not fair. He managed to carry on chopping but the momentum slackened considerably. She came over to where he was working. "Ok there, sugar?" Jack put the axe down and faced her. "Yes, Maam!" He struggled to keep his eyes on her face but it was impossible to stop them straying to other parts of her anatomy. Fuck, the woman looked like a wet dream! She'd looked pretty damn cute before, but in this outfit she was a lethal weapon. And the way she was standing there - the provocative pose, knee flexed, hands on hips, one hip thrown out, the sly pout on the lips - it was clear to Jack that she knew it. She moved in close to Jack. So close that he could reach out and touch her. Marcia's mouth twitched in amusement: Except you can't, can you? You can't lay a finger on me! Behind her impenetrably dark, oversized sunglasses her gaze was entertained as she studied Jack and the delightfully obvious impact she was having on him. Was that something moving inside his shorts? Yes, she believed it was. Bingo! "You must be thirsty, poor thing," she said. "Sure am, Maam." Understatement of the century. Jack was gagging. He wanted a drink almost as much as he wanted to jump on this horny bitch and rip that little dress off her smoking hot body and fuck her senseless. That's how much he wanted a drink. "Well good, because I've brought you one." "Thank you, Maam!" "Now where the hell is it?" muttered Marcia, one hand rummaging half-heartedly in the canvas bag she had slung over her shoulder. Eventually she gave up and she slipped the bag off and placed it on the ground in front of her. She bent over to continue the search using both hands and this caused her spaghetti straps to slide over her bare shoulders. The neckline of her dress (quite tantalising to start with) slowly but surely slipped lower and lower, revealing ever more of her spectacular cleavage. Jack was really suffering now. Fucking little tease! It soon got worse for him. As she carried on foraging down there, the straps inched their way down her arms. They fell past the critical point and suddenly the dress came right away from her chest. Jack's pulse quickened and his breathing almost stopped - Marcia was topless under the dress and he was being treated to an unencumbered view of a pair of exquisite nestling breasts. Fuck, he could see everything, nipples and all! "At last!" Marcia announced, pulling a can from the bag. She looked up sharply and saw what she was hoping and expecting to see - a sexually starved BC prisoner staring yearningly down her top. Poor guy! Jack looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught in the act. When he faced her again he found that she'd stood up but hadn't bothered to fix her straps, therefore the upper section of her dress was in a state of partial disarray; it was balancing precariously on the lower slopes of her firm jutting tits. Her nipples were covered, but only just. She was grinning at him, seemed to be enjoying the situation, although he couldn't totally read her expression because of her dark glasses. Ok, thought Jack, so it was like that. Bitch was doing this deliberately. Well, he couldn't do much about it. Not without getting into no end of trouble. The crucial thing was to not rise to her teasing. If he didn't rise to it she'd probably get bored and stop messing with him. Except that a part of him was 'rising' to it - very much so. The sight of Marcia's fabulous tits jiggling around naked inside her dress during her performance with the bag had given him a full erection - there was nothing on earth that could have prevented that happening - and the way she had the dress arranged now was doing absolutely nothing to help matters. If anything it was worse being almost able to see her nipples. Jack glanced down and saw to his dismay that his shorts were tenting, a large boner sticking out and pushing urgently against the loose material. It could have been worse. It was just as well he had no fly or he'd have popped out and been free-to-air. Still, he was mortified. There was no chance of pretending that he was immune to Marcia's charms when it was so tangibly obvious that he wasn't. Fuck, he was even leaking slightly. There was a small wet patch showing through. He really needed to reach down and adjust himself, kind of tuck and trap things off to the side of his shorts if he could, but doing that with her watching would be just too embarrassing and therefore he did the only thing he could think of, which was try and hide what was going on by resting his hands together and in front of his lap. He also conjured up an alternative and dampening mental image to counter the highly arousing one in front of him. So the way his grandmother's mouth looked with her dentures out battled doggedly against how Marcia's killer legs looked in the little short dress that she was almost wearing and that was damn near sliding off those luscious melons of hers. It worked a little bit. His erection remained but it lost some of its pulsing heat and it stopped leaking. Marcia had other ideas however. She pressed the can of drink into her cleavage and began rolling it against her skin in front of the mesmerised Jack. "Mmm, this feels good actually," she giggled. "Shame to drink it," she said. Jack was sorely conflicted. He wanted the cold drink, he really did, but he also wanted Marcia to keep rolling the can around in her cleavage. The more she did that the more likely it was that her dress would finally get dislodged from her tits (it really was just clinging on for dear life now) and he'd be able to see the whole glorious upper package again. It was stupid and futile to succumb to her teasing, he knew this, but his dick was starting to get the upper hand here; his dick was starting to talk way louder than his brains. Marcia was thoroughly enjoying herself. Poor guy doesn't know where to look!... and all that trying to cover his erection... so funny! Bet he's soooo thirsty too. Bet he wants this drink I've got here real bad. She held the can out to Jack. "Here you go, sugar." Jack reached eagerly for the can with one hand, careful to keep the other as a fig leaf over his groin. Ok, so Marcia knew that he had a hard-on, but why give the tormenting bitch an easy sight of the proof? In any case his erection was subsiding as he focused on how thirsty he was. Man, he needed this drink. His mouth was dry as dust. He took the can from Marcia. It was ice cold. Oh yeah! "Beer is allowed, I guess?" said Marcia, just as Jack was about to crack the can. Jack's features fell. He examined the can properly for the first time. Miller. Oh fuck. There was nothing in this world (apart maybe from getting his hands on Marcia Reynolds) that he'd love more right now than a cold beer but no, it was definitively not allowed. If Jennings smelt even a trace of it on his breath when he came to collect him, which was in less than two hours, then he'd be for the high jump. No way could he take the risk. "Sorry Maam, no," Jack said, his voice croaking. He was still holding the can, staring at it, almost crying with disappointment. "No alcohol?" said Marcia, sounding surprised. "No, Maam." "Oh," she said, relishing the look on Jack's face. "That's too bad," she said. "Maam." Marcia held out her hand. "Better give it back to me then." Jack sadly relinquished the cold can of Miller. "Suppose I could go back in and get you some water," said Marcia, her tone suggesting that the prospect wasn't particularly welcome. "No Maam, don't worry. Not a problem," lied Jack. "You sure?... You look pretty thirsty to me." "No honestly, Maam. It's fine." A naughty grin flashed suddenly across Marcia's lovely face. "Guess I can always drink it. I'm thirsty too, come to think of it." With that, Marcia pulled the tab on the beer. She'd been shaking the can around a little before she opened it and there was a fair amount of spray, which Marcia directed at Jack. "Sorry," she giggled, and then she glugged most of the can in one go, drinking greedily and carelessly so that half the liquid escaped her mouth and spilt down her chin and onto her neck. Plenty of it ran further, trickling over and between her breasts and seeping on down inside her dress. The unfortunate Jack Vickers, thirsty and horny as fuck, stood and watched this from a distance of around three feet. His tongue was made even drier, the longing for a drink cruelly increased, by the sight of the cold beer going into Marcia's mouth; and his erection was at full mast again due to the sight of the beer not going into her mouth, by the liquid running slowly down into her cleavage and the top of her dress. He still had his hands together in front of his groin in an increasingly pathetic attempt to shield the evidence of his arousal from Marcia. All rather pointless because (i) she could see enough anyway and (ii) he looked even funnier to Marcia with how he was trying to cover up. "Mmm, that was good!" Marcia sighed, when she'd finished guzzling. She held the can out to Jack. "You absolutely sure you won't have any, sugar?" Jack shook his head. His face was a picture. Marcia moved the can closer, held it right to his parched lips. "Not just a little sip?" she grinned, openly tormenting him now. Her eyes were shining with sadistic glee behind her shades. Jack jerked his head away. "No, Maam," he mumbled. "Aw, it really is too bad. Silly rule if you ask me. I'll tell my husband I think it's silly." Marcia waggled the can, assessing how much was left. "Well, I can't finish it. Better get rid of it, hadn't we?" She upended the can and slowly poured the remainder of the beer into the ground at her feet. "Such a waste," she said, tossing the empty over towards where Jack's clothes were lying. It ended up on top of his overalls. "Oh lord, just look at me," Marcia giggled, glancing down at the beer she'd spilled over herself. Jack was doing exactly that - looking at her. Christ, that dress! Just the force in his little finger would be enough to flick the damn thing off her tits. Her damp tits. He didn't want to be so obviously lusting at her, he wished he had more willpower, but it was useless. He'd pretty much given up and was no longer fighting it. The hot little bitch had him beat and there was nothing he could do about it. She clearly wanted him drooling over her like a fucking idiot and so that is exactly what she was gonna get. It was torture, sure it was, but the bottom line was that she was the governor's wife and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. She could totally fuck him up if he didn't play whatever game she wished to play. And if he complained to anyone he'd never be believed and things would get fucked up even worse. So he stood there looking blatantly and hungrily at Marcia, hands at his sides, no longer trying to cover the erection which raged inside his shorts. ** Marcia loved the way that Jack was now looking at her and she loved what was going on in his pants, the palpable evidence of what she was doing to his starved and frustrated cock. Such a scream. She was driving this poor bastard crazy! "Ok Jack, let me tell you what I'd like you to do now," she said, her voice dripping with lazy superiority. "Maam?" "I'd like you to take off your shorts." Oh shit, thought Jack. Where the fuck was she going with this? "You know why?" Marcia grinned. "Maam?" "Because I reckon you've gotten yourself all excited looking at me in this little dress, haven't you?" "Yes, Maam." Pointless to deny it given his condition. "Well I wanna see just how excited." "Maam." "So take them off, sugar." Jack stepped out of his shorts and stood before Marcia naked except for his sneakers. His erection was enormous. He looked and felt utterly ridiculous. "Ooo, Mr Vickers!" giggled Marcia. She licked her lips in ostentatious appreciation of the size and firmness of Jack's cock. It put her husband's to shame, she had to admit, and she felt a definite tingling in her tummy and moisture between her legs. And his body - so yummy and hard and muscled! For the first time the thought flitted across Marcia's wicked mind to do more than just torment Jack Vickers and once there the idea took root. She was having a ball torturing him, hadn't had such fun in ages, but why not fuck him too? Not right now, a little later, when she'd teased and tantalised the wretched guy to the edge of insanity, why not open up her legs and reap the benefit? She imagined Jack finally losing control and simply having to take her and to hell with the consequences. She imagined that big hard ravenous cock smashing in and out of her dripping pussy. Mmm - yes please. Jack was quite close to losing control now, in fact. He wanted to nail the tormenting little bitch. He wanted to show this woman, this Marcia Reynolds, that she couldn't just tease and humiliate him the way she was with no payback. The only thing stopping him jumping her was the knowledge that it might - almost certainly would - land him in whole heap of trouble. At the very least it would surely mean the end of his prospect of early release. This was enough to keep him in check. But only just. He was starting to hate the fucking woman! On the surface he was docile and obedient, doing everything that Marcia ordered him to do, but inside he was boiling with anger and frustration and resentment. These feelings only intensified as Marcia grew ever more cruel and capricious. "You're like my slave, aren't you?" she said, when she'd finished laughing at how painfully aroused he was. "Yes, Maam." "My horny slave," she giggled. "Yes, Maam." "So, slave, tell me. Do you think I'm beautiful?" "Yes, Maam." "And my body, slave?... Is it very sexy?" "Yes, Maam." "I see. So would the horny slave like me to take this dress off?" "Yes, Maam." Marcia grinned wickedly at him. "Ok, then I will... if the horny slave asks me nicely, that is." "Please, Maam. Please take your dress off." "Hmm, no, not quite what I had in mind. Kneel down and beg." Jack sank to his knees and pleaded with Marcia to take her dress off. She kept him down there begging for a while and then she giggled ok, and she slowly peeled the dress down and over her hips and stepped out of it. Beneath she wore just the tiniest pair of black silk panties. "Voila!" she pouted, pirouetting a couple times, flaunting her sumptuous body in front of the horribly tantalised Jack, her teasing utterly brazen now. "Ok, stand up," Marcia ordered. Jack did so. His cock was straining and near vertical. Marcia started playing with her beautiful breasts, caressing them, massaging them, slowly circling the nipples with her fingertips. "Do you like my big tits, slave?" "Yes, Maam." "Bet you'd love to do what I'm doing, wouldn't you? Bet you're dying to feel these tits, am I right?" "Yes, Maam," said Jack, his voice an agonized whisper. Marcia giggled. "Aw, you poor poor thing... I'm being mean, aren't I, teasing my poor slave like this?" "Yes, Maam." "What's that?... You're saying I'm mean?" "Um, no, I meant. No, Maam." "Best be careful what you say, slave." "Yes, Maam." "Ok, good. I'm not being mean then." Doing 'Hard' Time "No, Maam." "So the slave likes being teased, does he?" "Yes, Maam." A bare-faced lie, but what else could he say? "Really? Well let's see," grinned Marcia. She moved forward and slipped her arms lightly around his waist. "Hands by your side, sugar," she whispered, as she snuggled herself into him. She kissed him softly on the neck and then she began to rub her body up against his. Jack felt her large firm breasts sliding sensuously around against his chest. The aroma of the scent she was wearing - musky and seductive and ultra feminine - filled his nostrils. His trapped erection was pressing hard into her silky smooth belly. Oh god. He felt her hands move from his waist and slide around him and down a little, coming to rest on his butt. She stroked his bum crack gently up and down with one finger. Then she took a firm grip of his arse and dug her nails into his buttocks. She pulled him in tighter and pushed her thigh in between his legs, started rubbing it to and fro against his balls. Jack longed to reciprocate but he could do nothing. It was sheer torture. Giggling, Marcia freed herself slightly and reached down for his cock. Her hand closed around the shaft and she gave him a squeeze. Then she started tickling it with her fingers. At the same time she took his balls into her other hand and softly weighed and fondled them. She continued to massage his balls with one hand whilst with her other hand she alternated between tickling his cock and stroking it. The strokes brought Jack ever closer to nirvana. Jack started to moan and tremble as she carried on the treatment. Soon he felt the beginnings of an explosion. An almighty orgasm was rushing towards him, approaching the point of no return. Which is when Marcia, with precise and diabolical timing, abruptly stopped. She pulled away and left him high and dry, howling out with frustration. Evil bitch! His cock was leaking like a faulty tap. His balls were tender and full and they ached something rotten. It felt like they weighed a ton. Jack groaned and took a hold of his cock, intent on finishing the job. It would take about three strokes, that's how close he'd got. "No!" snapped Marcia, her voice like the crack of a whip. Jack dropped his hand back to his side. "It's mine! I own all of you, including that. Only person who gets to touch that cock is me, you understand?" What a fucking bitch! "Yes, Maam!" he said. Marcia flashed a spiteful grin. "And unfortunately for you I've finished with it," she said. "At least for now," she added. Marcia took a moment to savour the spectacle in front of her. The poor guy! "Ok, follow me," she said, and she turned and walked away towards the pool. "Oh and bring the bag." Jack picked up the bag and lumbered after Marcia, his gaze fixed hungrily on her ass as it swayed from side to side in her tiny knickers. Marcia knew exactly where he'd be looking and she inched them down at the back as she walked along until they were halfway over her buttocks. She reached the pool and waited for Jack. "Put the bag down," she ordered. Jack did so. "Jeez, it's hot," said Marcia, making a face. "Yes, Maam." "Think I'll cool off in the pool." "Maam." "You don't mind if I cool off in the pool, slave, do you?" "No, Maam." "I like to swim naked by the way." "Maam." "So much more refreshing that way, I find." Marcia was playing with her panties as she spoke. She started to ease them over her hips and Jack prepared himself for his first view of her cunt. She stopped, however, when they were part way off, the first wisps of pussy hair revealed but no more than that. Jack was drooling like a starving dog being tantalised with a juicy bone. Marcia was smirking at him and giggling. "Sorry, forgot to check... is it ok with you if I get naked?" "Yes, Maam." "You won't jump on me or anything?" "No, Maam," said Jack, through gritted teeth. In truth he wasn't sure he could live up to this promise. "Ok good. So how about you finish the job?" said Marcia, indicating down at her partially lowered briefs. Jack took a step towards Marcia, cock swinging, hands eager for the task. "No, not yet," Marcia snapped. Jack stopped sharply in his tracks. "Maam?" "Get down and crawl to me first." Jack obeyed. He got on all fours and crawled to where Marcia was standing. "What a good little doggy!" chuckled Marcia. "Now grovel, slave. Grovel at my feet and beg to be allowed to see my pussy." "C'mon sugar, I know you're just desperate for a look at this nice juicy pussy... so beg!... I wanna hear my horny slave boy beg for it!" Jack prostrated himself at Marcia's feet and he begged to see her pussy. He hated her for making him do this and he hated himself too. He hated himself for doing it. For being so abject. The truth was, however, that he did want to see her pussy. He wanted that very much. But he wanted to do more than just look at it. He wanted to ram his cruelly tantalised cock into her cunt, ram it in there hard and deep and make the cockteasing bitch scream. Marcia was laughing down at what she'd reduced this poor man to. "Kiss my feet," she ordered. Jack did so. "Mmm that's nice, I like it!... Gee, you do want to see my pussy, don't you?" Jack just carried on smooching her toes. "Come on then, sugar. Take these panties off me. You have my permission." Jack moved his mouth away from Marcia's feet. He raised himself up onto his knees and reached towards her knickers. "No!" said Marcia. "Maam?" "With your teeth. Hands behind your back and take them off with your teeth." Jack adjusted his position and undertook the task as best he could. It took a long time because Marcia deliberately made it difficult for him. She kept moving around and gyrating her hips such that getting her knickers between his teeth and manoeuvring them down over her ass and thighs became an involved and complex operation. As Jack craned and pecked from all angles, his nose often found itself pressed either into Marcia's cunt or her ass. In his raging lust and frustration this added ingredient, the smell of her sex, drove him almost beserk. His tongue ached to be inside her. The one and only thing that screamed to be inside her more than his tongue was his poor famished cock. He hadn't thought it possible he could get any harder than he was already, but somehow he had. He wanted to cum. Fuck, he needed to cum. Marcia could hardly believe how wantonly wicked she was being to this poor man. She also wondered how far she'd need to push things before Jack's resistance finally broke and he threw her to the ground and ravished her. Because she was ready when he was. Her cunt was slick and juicy and crying to be filled. But only when he snapped. It had to be that way. That's how she wanted it. Marcia knew how gorgeous she was and she relished the effect she had on men. The idea of driving a man so utterly crazy with desire for her that he lost all sense of equilibrium and control and just forcibly took her, this was her most favourite fantasy. To actually live it out, to play the scenario for real - especially when the man in question was a hunky BC prisoner who hadn't had a woman since forever - was unbearably exciting! Jack finally managed to get Marcia's knickers down to her ankles. She stepped out of them. Then she picked them up and, giggling, she stretched them out on the top of Jack's head. "There. Perhaps you can wear a hat after all!" The humiliated Jack was now kneeling there with his hands behind his back and with Marcia's black silk knickers on his head. "You look so sweet like that!" gurned Marcia. She began dancing naked in front of him. She teased him mercilessly with this. Several times she moved in close and let her cunt brush against his face. Then she turned and presented her backside. "Kiss it, slave," she commanded. Jack did so. Marcia kept him at it for a while, luxuriating in her domination of this poor shmuck. At the same time she wanted things to switch around. She wanted to be taken. "Right, time for my swim," she announced. "Maam." "Stand up and pass me my bag." Jack lumbered to his feet and retrieved Marcia's bag and handed it to her. She pulled out a towel. "Here, hold this," she said, tossing it at Jack. Jack caught the towel. Marcia looked down at his cock and saw to her delight that it was as hard as ever. It gave her an idea. She took the towel back from Jack. "How about we use the peg?" she giggled, and she draped the towel over Jack's rigid boner. It stayed nicely in place. "Now if that towel drops off while I'm swimming I'll be very annoyed," she said, sternly. "Maam." "And no cheating with hands, ok?" "Ok, Maam." "But since you'll be watching me, I'm guessing no problem," she smirked. And it wasn't. It was no problem at all for Jack to stay hard enough to keep the towel in place as he watched the gloriously naked Marcia Reynolds lower herself carefully into the pool and do a few lazy laps on her back. There was a problem though. The problem was that Jack didn't know how much more of this woman's abuse he could take. Ok, she was the governor's wife and all the rest of it, but what she was doing to him was just outrageous. He felt angry and debased. Fucking evil cow. What made it worse was that he wanted her so badly. Every nerve and sinew in his body, every brain cell, was drowning in lust and screaming out for release. And the hot little bitch knew it! Marcia climbed out of the pool. "Good boy," she grinned, seeing the towel still securely on its 'peg'. Jack stood there mute. He felt too shamed and degraded to even speak. Marcia took the towel and in the process she gave his dick a torturing little squeeze and his balls a tickle. She giggled at Jack's involuntary groan of anguish. She threw the towel back at him. "Here, slave. You can pat me dry." When he'd finished, she turned and picked up her bag and she sashayed off towards a sun-lounger which was placed a few metres from the pool-side. "Come," she said, waggling an imperious finger at him. Jack followed, carrying the towel, his crazily lusting eyes glued to her undulating buttocks. "Put the towel out on there," Marcia ordered, pointing down at the lounger. "I'm gonna sunbathe for a while. Work on my tan." Jack placed the towel on the lounger, inwardly cursing her to hell. Oh you fucking bitch! "So Jack, do you wanna stay here and watch me sunbathing nude?... or do you wanna get back to work?" Jack said nothing. He just couldn't speak any more. Neither did he move. Marcia giggled knowingly at him. "I'll take that as meaning you wanna watch me sunbathe. Ok fine, I'll allow it. What about those trees, though? Hardly looks finished and that's why you're here in case you forgot. You're just gonna have to come back next week, sugar, aren't you?" Oh christ. Marcia lowered herself onto the lounger and got comfortable, reclining back with her arms draped above her head, one leg outstretched, the other raised and bent at the knee. Oh god, thought Jack. She looked fucking incredible! The next period of time, with Marcia lying naked on the lounger and him stood right next to it and drooling helplessly down at her, was excruciating for the hapless Jack Vickers. Exactly how long it went on for, he couldn't say. Might have been only a few minutes but it felt like hours. He felt truly wretched. He felt so deeply ashamed at being turned by Marcia into no more than a dumb dribbling animal. No, it was even worse than that - a dumb dribbling animal with a pair of knickers on his head. Marcia ignored him at first. She just relaxed there in the sun, her eyes hidden by the shades, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. When she did finally give him some attention it was strictly of the malicious variety. She giggled suddenly and reached out a hand and she began to toy casually with his hard cock and his blue balls. The combined effect of her superb flaunted body and her fiendish fingers was that Jack was now maintained in a state of perpetual heat and horniness, constantly and cruelly on the edge of cumming. It was a case of almost - and oh so close! - but never quite. Driven utterly crazy by this, Jack was soon crying out with frustration. He took to bucking his hips every time Marcia touched him, trying pathetically to hump her hand, anything to create enough contact and traction to trigger an orgasm. But it was no good. All it did was make her laugh at him even more. He was close to breaking down and openly weeping. He couldn't believe the sadistic little bitch was torturing him like this. Why was she doing it? Was it just simply because she could? Perhaps that was it, thought Jack. She was loving every single second of it, that was for certain. Yeah, she so fucking was. Marcia stopped playing with him and pulled her phone out from the bag and she texted somebody. A moment later the phone bleeped with an incoming call. Jack got her end of it. "Hey, Trish," Marcia giggled. "Yep, it's working like a dream. I'm sunbathing right in front of him as we speak!" "Yeah, nude... So is he as it happens." "I know! Can you imagine?" "Oh my god, Trish, you were so right. It's a fucking scream! You should see the state of the poor guy." Marcia was giggling like mad now at something that 'Trish' was saying. It took her a while to pull herself together and continue the conversation. "Mmm, you could say that... not surprising really, is it?... the poor bastard hasn't had a fuck for years and here's me teasing the living shit out of him." Jack's self-esteem was being lowered still further by being talked about like this as if he wasn't there. And it appeared that she'd planned all of this, the little bitch! "Yeah, I know. Wicked, aren't I?" Marcia was chuckling down the phone. "Yeah, definitely. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Lunch at the club like we said, yeah?" "Ok, see ya babes." Marcia checked the time on the phone before tossing it down. 4:15... jeez, not long to go. She reached into her bag again and found a bottle of tanning lotion. "Better put some cream on, hadn't I? Don't wanna burn up," she grinned. She proceeded to slather lotion liberally all over her body. She rubbed it pretty much everywhere: her shoulders and arms, her neck, her tits, her belly, her thighs and all the way down her legs. "Now go stand there," she told Jack, nodding to the bottom end of the lounger, where her feet were. Jack moved around and took up station. Marcia removed her shades and stared at Jack, let him see the mischief radiating in her big brown eyes. "Ok, loser, watch this," she said, and she opened her legs wide. She got a large dollop of sun cream in one hand and started to massage it sensuously around and into her pussy. With her other hand she spread the lips of her cunt so that Jack could see exactly and in lurid detail what she was doing. She began pleasuring herself with her fingers, stroking her clit, penetrating herself a little, all the time purring and staring levelly at Jack. Jack returned her lucid, mocking gaze for a second and then he lost himself, and lost what remained of his sanity, in the sight of her fingers stimulating her gaping cunt. He was suffocated with lust, could barely breathe. Marcia's cool eyes were sniggering up at Jack. "Who needs a dick anyway?" she taunted. Jack stopped panting and he let out a deep, guttural, grunting sound. He twitched violently, which caused the knickers to slip off his head and Marcia to have a major fit of the giggles. When she'd recovered her composure she resumed played with herself and she began to blatantly goad Jack. "Look, Mr Vickers. Look at this nice wet cunt... Don't you wanna plunge in here, sugar?... Don't you wanna fill it with that big hungry cock you have there?" Jack was in pain, both mentally and physically. He was in a dreadful condition. His whole body was trembling and drenched with sweat. His face was contorted and glowing red and the veins in his neck were throbbing visibly. He was losing control. He was locked in a vicious cycle; his lust for this hot taunting bitch was feeding his shame and his fury, and his shame and fury were further fuelling his lust. It was leading to only one possible destination. Marcia could tell that Jack was close to the cliff. And call it 'woman's intuition' or whatever, she knew how to tip him over. "What's the matter with you, babe?" she sneered, sliding three fingers in and out of her cunt. "Why don't you do it?" "Aren't you man enough?" Maybe it was the words, maybe it was her sniggering contemptuous tone. Or perhaps it was the subtle but unmistakeable glint of challenge in her eye as she said it. Even afterwards Jack couldn't say for certain, but there was suddenly no reasonable answer to her question - why didn't he do it? - and he abandoned himself to his fate. "You little cockteasing bitch!" he spat, grinning like a maniac, and he fell on her with all his weight. The lounger collapsed but Jack barely noticed. "You fucking bitch!" he screamed again, as he trapped her on the grass beneath him. He spread-eagled her legs, then he slammed his cock into her warm glistening cunt and he started pumping. Thirty seconds was all. Thirty seconds before he exploded inside her like Mount Vesuvius, his balls emptying, his whole frame shuddering. It was an ecstasy the like of which he'd never felt before; an ecstasy which even in the very throes of it he was fleetingly conscious that he'd probably never feel again. But was it rape? Well, a couple of things. The fact that Marcia's cunt had lapped up his cock as if it were manna from heaven The fact that Marcia had started those thirty seconds by giggling: "Oh god yeah!... Fuck me you big horny bastard!... Fuck me good!" And the fact that, as he drove into her, she squealed "Oh baby!" and she kept on squealing this, her voice high and orgiastic, until she came as violently and at exactly the same moment as he did. And the final fact that, as he rolled off her, she lay there smiling and satiated and looking like the cat that's got the cream. So, no, probably not rape. But what if she hadn't wanted it? What then?... Would he have fucked her anyway? Jack preferred to take the fifth on that. In any case there was no time for a post-coital chat. It was nearly five o'clock. Doing Hard Time Eddie then hollered something in his native tongue, loudly. He bucked his hips into her butt hard enough to send Kate's head all the way to the base of Michaels cock shaft. Finally, she had Michael in her throat to the max. Eddie soon relented his grip on her hips and slid off to the side laying on the floor, quietly saying what sounded like a prayer of thanks in Spanish. Kate had taken her share of cum and cock this day. With the exception of one, Me. While the three cons sat around her on the floor, I told Kate to stand. When she did, the remaining cum inside of her ran down her thighs from her pussy and asshole like thin rivers. I went behind my desk and wheeled my chair out to the opened room. I sat down in the chair and propped my legs up on the arms of the chair that she had sat in when we first got there. "Come here, My sweet, sexy slut," I commanded. Now that I know you like the taste of ass and cum, there is no more denying it from you. Eat my ass!" Kate got between me and the chair as I shifted my asshole to the front of the chair. She had never gotten close to my ass before in the whole time we had been married. Her lesson would be my thrill this time. She lowered her head to my ass and began to taunt and tease my tender, sensitive asshole. Oh, it felt so good! Her pointy tongue grazing all around my puckered anus, then swiping at it. I could feel it flex with each probing that she gave it. "It tastes so good," she said. She would swipe at it again, then say, "Really Bruce, I never knew how sweet you tasted down here." I was thinking for a split second that this was her way of trying to get me to forgive what had happened, then I actually began to believe her. I wanted and needed to believe her. As she tried to tongue fuck my asshole, I wondered, could it be true, that she really is a slut. Maybe I've been too good to her all this time. Maybe she likes the abusive side. When she slid a finger into my ass, I quickly stopped thinking of mercy and went right back to thinking nasty. I jacked my cock while she continued to lick my ass and suck my balls, until I was ready to explode. Now came the moment of truth in my mind. I stood up and aimed my cock to her mouth. If she accepted it without hesitation, maybe we could make it. "Mmmmm, give me that hot sweet cum of yours, my delectable man!," she said. I slid my cock into her mouth and kept pressing until my balls rested comfortably on her chin. Her gaze never left my eyes. This was one of the most wonderful moments that Kate and I have ever had sexually. Her eyes seemed to plead that I flush her mouth and gullet with my hot cum. And I did just that. My hips began to saw in and out, as I felt her talented tongue run all along the sensitive under side. When my balls bottomed out at her chin, I could feel her tongue grazing my heavy aching balls. My hot seed raced through my cock from its depths as I unleashed a torrent of cum down her throat and into her mouth. I must have shot seven or eight thick ropes of cum before my cock stopped twitching. Eventually, Kate let my limp cock fall from her mouth as I stood in amazement of how good it felt. A tear came to my eye as I thought of the anger I had felt for her a short time earlier. I truly loved Kate and was devastated when I saw her with those two guys at our house. As the tear raced down my cheek, Kate asked, "Can we talk now." "Yeah, but lets go home to talk." I thanked the three cons for their assistance and each one got dressed and thanked me, then Kate on their way out. "Feels good to do the society a service, doesn't it Kate," I asked. She smiled as he saw my weakening side. "Any way I can be of service to you Bruce, just let me know. I may be a slut, but I'm Your slut."