Welcome to Prison, Ladies (Open For All)

*leans against the bars in hopes of a glimpse*
The sounds of pleasure.. a sound so familiar yet so distant. My cock grew thicker as I heard the female guard having her way with another inmate down the block. Breathless panting and the sounds of wet skin reverberated through the hallway. I could hear the table legs shrieking against the cold hard floor, as she rode him with abandon. I closed my eyes and imagined it was me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch let alone the fiery passion of a woman. My balls started to ache and throb as my cock became harder...
 
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An alarm had sounded which freed me from my current encounter with Anderson. Itvwas a false alarm but enough to get him back to work. I fix my clothes, the button down dress pantyhose and heels, fixed my makeup and moved onto the offices. To get to the office i needed to gain access to some prison records i had to take a slight detour, due to construction, and walk past a cell block. All the prisoners whistled as I walked. A few trying to get me close to bars. As i walk i hear one say...
 
"Are you ever going to do anything?" Tricia called from her cell. "How long have you been coming down here? You said you were here to help us, I haven't seen you do anything except fuck the guards."

Kimberly passed Tricia's cell as quickly as she could. Tricia called out to Liz, the new arrival stuck in a cell opposite of Tricia's. "She talk to you yet? Don't trust this one."
 
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OOC character name is Kimberly Cumstrom. Not Ashley

Figuring the “fuck the guards” comment was just a ploy to get under my skin i stoped and headed back over to her cell. I whip out my phone to show emails between the wardren and I that says they are “considering” some of my proposals which will help Tricia and some of the others, hopefully to have them trust me.
“Look alot of corruption here” i say kinda quietly to her “ im on your side”. I say
“Gotta go have a meeting in interrogation room C”. Not sure of the next prisoner i will get to talk to there as I had nothing kn schedule, just told i was told i was to head there to talk more to...
 
Tricia wrapped her hands around the bars of her cell, lazily hanging off of them, watching nothing happening in the cell block. Summertime had hit D-Wing, and the tall blonde was sweating in her orange jumpsuit, and her tank top was clinging to her chest underneath.
 
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En route to Interrogation room C i had to head to the warden’s office to let him or his secretary that I would be heading that way to talk to more prisoners. As i pass. by, I see a good looking guy I have not seen before sitting there. I say “hello” then move on to my destination, paying attention to my phone and reading emails more than where I need to go.
 
The New Guard on the Block

It seemed like every po-dunk hillbilly, shit-kicker with a bad attitude and a dip habit bought a Harley. Chop the pipes, toss the muffler and rattle the pavement for miles with the useless noise—sound and fury signifying nothing. Some would say that loud pipes saved lives—but Darryl always found that torque and control were better for keeping him safe on two wheels, instead of a deafening roar. Darryl had always had the hunch that those Harley-riding rednecks were all compensating for something below the belt—with their oversized hats, belt-buckles and un-muffled exhaust pipes—Darryl didn’t have anything to compensate for in that department.

No, just about all of Darryl’s shortcomings came from above the neck—at least according to the United States Marines and the Police Academy. Lucky for him, this women’s prison was in pretty desperate need of new guards, so much so that they short-cutted most of the psychological evaluation process.

Darryl Dawes parked his bike on the curb, just outside the staff entrance to the prison. He had orders to report to one: Warden Davis, who would provide the necessary paperwork, tax info and equipment. If things went well, he could pick up his first shift this afternoon.

Darryl removed his helmet and locked it under the seat of his bike before locking the wheels and ignition switch. He then slid on his mirrored aviator sunglasses from one of the pockets in his black tactical vest that also contained some five-hundred dollars worth of equipment and non-lethal weapons.

As he walked toward the prison, Darryl’s already oversized key-ring rattled around his hip while he carried a 9mm. Beretta on his other hip, loaded with rubber bullets, specifically for his new job. Any of these hard-ass bitches fucked with him, he’d make them damn sorry.

“I’m here for Warden Davis, my name is Darryl Dawes. I’m the new guard, reporting for duty,” Darryl told the clerk at the window, still wearing his sunglasses indoors, “I’m carrying a personal firearm with a permit, which I have loaded with non-lethal ordinance.”

In a few seconds, Darryl drew his pistol, slid out the clip and cleared the chamber, sending one round spinning in the air for a moment before he snatched it aggressively and set it upright beside the pistol and clip for the receptionist who was clearly not qualified to assess his sidearm. Instead she timidly indicated a direction and buzzed him in after he secured his weapon again.

“Guard Dawes, reporting for duty Warden Davis,” Darryl announced, knocking lightly on the open door before realizing that the warden was already in a meeting, “oh, excuse me, sir. I’ll just wait out here in the hall.”

The guy in the warden’s office looked like somebody important, like a pharmaceuticals rep or something. He didn’t seem the type to work as a prison guard, but then again, he didn’t figure himself to be the type that got rejected by the Marines. Darryl sat on the bench outside the Warden’s office and started practicing disassembling and reassembling his pistol while he waited.
 
OOC. Lettmg new characters know about me. 22 5’10 130 short natural red hair 32C chest 40” long legs.


I look up and see some remodeling taking place so signs i need to follow are inaccurate. I decide to head back to the Wardens office to ask him the best way to interrogation room C. As i get there I notice a sales type guy and a new guard. Borh might help me with information on my cases. I step into the office to inteoduce myself. “ Hello I am assistant DA Kimberly Cumstrom and you are?”....
 
Behind his mirrored sunglasses, Kimberly couldn't see that Darryl was checking her out as she approached the warden's office. The way her snug dress swelled around her firm, round breasts--how her athletic calves flexed outward each time she took a step. Darryl decided that he was going to like working here as he slapped the magazine back into his pistol, chambering a round in nearly the same motion.

CLACK! Flic-Clack!

A District Attorney, no less. She was sexy and important, Darryl felt the urge to make a good impression. He holstered his sidearm and stood up sharply, clicking the heels of his polished black boots together.

"Ma'am, Darryl Dawes reporting for duty, ma'am," Darryl announced in answer to her introduction, "it is an honor."

Darryl made no mention of the low-hanging fruit of Kim's last name. It was too easy, and he didn't want to touch a nerve with the DA before he even started work.

"Come in," the order came from within the office, making his goodbyes with the DA before entering the warden's office.

"Ma'am," Darryl nodded before going inside, he stood at attention again, his boots clicking, "Sir, Darryl Dawes reporting in."
 
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Darryl was one of those guys who always squeezed with every ounce of his might in a handshake, and as Warden Davis introduced himself, he squeezed the man’s hand until his knuckles touched in the back. “Good to meet you as well, sir,” Darryl nodded, his forearm flexing as he strangled the smaller man’s hand, “I want to thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

Warden Davis didn’t miss a beat, dredging up his past in one blanket statement that put Darryl immediately on edge. His record. The words were like one skipping over and over the same scratch—his record—record—record… The words “Domestic Abuse” sounded so absolute, like it was some kind of happy home before he had to show the whore her place, those words were a blanket too.

He’d been hoping that Warden Davis might be a kindred spirit, perhaps even an ally, but obviously the man wanted to be an adversary. Darryl took a slow breath as the question of his intentions hung in the air for a long moment. He’d blown plenty of interviews just like this, the slightest provocation and he was throwing a chair through a window. This time, he remembered anger management classes—

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Sir, with all due respect,” since we were throwing blanket statements already, “I’m not a violent or malicious person, I just have certain standards that I expect to be met, when they’re not met, I try to change the circumstances until they do meet my expectations. In my experience, a certain type of woman expects circumstances to adapt to her, and I have no patience for those types.”

Darryl removed his sunglasses, locking his piercing, green eyes on the warden.

“All I want—all I’ve ever wanted was to serve this country—to make it a better, more reliable place for good, God-fearing, white, Christian, heterosexuals. I intend to impose order on this facility—not that I doubt your ability to do so, sir—but with all due respect,” it didn’t hurt to repeat himself, “this facility has become something of a laughing-stock. I intend to change that. Through Christ’s love, all sinners can be redeemed. I don’t think that your prisoners are any different. Anything I intend your population, sir, is for their own good.”

The chair creaked audibly as Darryl shifted his weight back, waiting to hear the warden’s reply. He wasn’t sure how the Jesus-Freak routine would land, but he was sure that this interview had gone better than the ones that ended with a chair crashing through a window.

“Before I do anything, sir. I ask, what would Jesus do?”
 
OOC wearing button down dress 3” above knees pantyhose and heels

I look over the new guard and secretly check him out. Teying to keep my composure i twll him I have a few moments before i need to head to Interrogation room C for client meetings and I would like to chat with him, thinking maybe i could get another ally on the inside. I ask him to follow me to a meeting room around the corner. Cant see his eyes under the shades yet have an odd feeling like he’a mentally undressing me with his eyes.
 
((Three minutes ago...))

Darryl's eyebrows played peek-a-boo with the top edge of his mirrored glasses when the leggy lawyer asked him to meet her in a--presumably--barren interrogation room. There was definitive innuendo in her words. Maybe he could land the job and the babe on the same visit to the prison.

"I'd love to... follow you absolutely anywhere, Sugar," Darryl smirked, lowering his sunglasses so that Kim could watch his piercing green eyes move indelicately over her body, eye-fucking her in the prison hallway, "but I got to handle this interview right quick. Afterward, I'll gladly find you in Interrogation Room C."

Darryl made sure to repeat the agreed upon location.

"Until then, Ms. Cum-strong," Darryl gently gripped the tip of her middle finger in his fingertips, raising her slender hand to his lips to kiss it gently.

((Ten minutes later...))

Darryl strode out of the warden's office, feeling both resourceful and victorious. It took him a full lap of the facility to get his bearings enough to find Interrogation Room C, but unsure if Kim, some inmate or some combination thereof were within, he knocked on the metal door with his knuckles.

"Guard Dawes, reporting," his words dripped with intention...
 
“Come in” i say as i see you enter the room. Just two way mirror 2 chairs and a good size table. As i sit my dress is at mid thigh since my mile long legs are crossed as i go over papers and your records. Tou look is stern. Cannot tell if you dont like me or playing tough guy. “Do you like your work?” I ask trying to break the ice. Wondering if your paying attention to me or figuring out how to get dress off. You then mention as a guard and me as a “visitor” before we behon talks you should “do your job” and search me for contraband. As you boldly say....
 
Darryl opened the door slowly, peeking around it as he entered and closing it behind him, being sure that it locks closed. Kimberly, the D.A. seemed to have his paperwork at the table with her, and she was feigning the same kind of detached judgment that the warden had affected during his interview, but now it was different. This time, neither he nor she really believed that she had any power over him. From the moment he entered the small, stone room, he filled it up completely, letting her occupy only the space that he allowed her, nothing more.

"I just got hired," Darryl remarked in answer to her question, staring into the mirror, trying to decipher if this was some sort of elaborate test for potential new recruits, "so I can't exactly say if I enjoy it or not. But I like the idea of keeping dangerous criminals away from the righteous among us. I like the work you do, too--locking up the filthy whores, throwing away the keys... I have immense respect for the D.A.'s office."

Darryl knocked on the two-way mirror, still trying to decide if this was a trap, making a slow circle around the bait.

"Maybe, you're not worthy of respect though..." Darryl sneered, tucking his back into the far corner, in the blind spot where the two-way mirror and the overhead camera were both unable to see him and he was staring daggers at Kim over his sunglasses, "maybe you're just a filthy fucking whore, who's aching to be dominated by a stronger man. Maybe your slut-pussy is weeping for my big, fat cock inside your tiny, fucking body. Show me your pussy, slut. Rip those slutty pantyhose in half and spread your pussy for me so I know this isn't some fucked up employment test."

As he spoke, Darryl unbuckled his belt and began unbuttoning his black slacks.

"...and call me Daddy."
 
My eyes grow big at your bold comments. Part of me secretly turned on but not willing to show those cards yet. “That language is not needed Mr...Dawes. I want the same thing you want.. Justice”. Again you mention you need to. “Search me” and call it “protocol” to make good impressions on your new employers. I try to keep my bubbly friendly personality, hoping the crude words are just typical male bravado goven your current position. I then stand up and ask you to join me at the table so we can go over records and paperwork I have on the prison so far to see if you can help my case or are going to be a liability.
 
Though Kimberly outwardly denied Darryl's brazen accusations about her intentions and nature, the smooth and sultry tone of her voice as she said the word "Justice" implied that he'd been right about everything he said, she just wanted to play coy--Darryl fucking hated when bitches played coy. She was apparently used to men falling at her feet, but Darryl wasn't like that.

"You seem to be squirming over there, Kimberly," Darryl remarked, moving out of the corner only when she stood up, readying for a search apparently, "you look like you're hiding something. Before I can let you see any of our prisoners, I need to be sure that you're not hiding any contraband."

Darryl felt like he was beginning to understand this whore, she wanted to be used and dominated, but only as long as she was forced. She wanted to pretend that she didn't want it, even though she was less than stellar at pretending. Maybe she was married or in a committed relationship, whatever the case, she wanted to give it up, but would only settle for having it taken...

His heavy black boot slid her heels further apart, forcing her legs to spread wider as he moved behind her at the table, his growing erection pressed against her firm ass, as his hands moved around her middle and up to cup her firm tits in his palms.

"You're breathing heavy," Darryl whispered, his lips grazing her earlobe, "admit that you want to be my whore and this will all go much better for you."

For emphasis, he used his hips to push her forward, causing the legs of the table to squeal as they slid across the concrete.
 
“There is no need to “search” me. We are on the same side, I am not hiding anything. I insist you let me up and ill forgey about this and we can....ummm start off on a better foot”. You lewdly comment on good thing i wore a button down dress today. Makes your job “easier”. Breathing a bit heavier, not knowing the exact intentions of that remark. Out of shock i dont yell out and only galf protest as even with my 5’10 frame you easily manipulate my body to whatever position you want as i am currently pinned against the table, feeling your warm breath on the back of my neck as you say something about seeing how “ well” we can get along. I take a deep breath as your fingers begn to play with top button of my dress.
 
"Shut up, whore," Darryl demands as he passes the button through the corresponding eye, freeing up a new kingdom of flesh below the DA's chin, "I've seen what you are and I'm not about to let you get away, not without giving you what you want--what you need."

One button after another falls open down the front of Kim's dress until the whole garment falls open and she's left bare except for her bra and hose before Darryl's powerful hands. One hand kneads and caresses her firm breasts over her bra while his other hand slips inside of her pantiehose, to grind his middle fingertip against the small, but swelling nub of her clitoris.

"What have we here?" Darryl asked, baring down on the sensitive nub as his hard cock pressed more urgently against her sculpted ass, "is this some kind of weapon? A lock picking device maybe? What are you trying to get away with, whore?"

Darryl continued rubbing, his finger rougher and rougher as he felt the clit growing more erect. He worked back the fleshy hood to expose the raw nerve of her clit to his textured fingertip, stroking it over and over..."
 
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Blushing heavy as my dress hangs open like a robe exposing my lavender color lace front hook bra abd pantyhose. I gasp as your hand boldly slips down the front of them. “This is unprofessional and not called for let me go now what kind of contraband search is this?!” I stammer breathing heavy as you easily pin my tall slender frane against the table.
 
Darryl laughed derisively at Kimberly's pathetic and overall unconvincing pleas. She was playing the part of a victim, the role of prey, even though it had been her who lured him to this isolated room, despite the fact that he'd yet to even officially begin work as a guard. He pinched her clit tightly, pressing his thumb against the edge of his hand and two fingers curled around to penetrate her.

"You're wetter than a slaughterhouse floor, slut," Darryl sneered, his stubble scraping the nape of her neck, "this is exactly the sort of search you were hoping for and furthermore, it's what you can expect from now on, every time you set foot in this prison. It's what you need, what your body has been craving for so long you can't remember a time before this longing."

After his fingers sloshed around inside Kim's pussy for some time, there came a loud ripping noise, as Darryl pulled his fist straight through the middle of her pantyhose, leaving a crude but obvious hole in the middle. His belt hit the floor next and then he was teasing her with the head of his nightstick--no, it was softer, warmer... dear God! His cock was enormous!

"Tell me the truth, admit that you need this, that you want me to fuck you until you can't stand with my huge cock... otherwise, I'm going to walk out and just leave you here to suffer. Imagining what could have been."

Darryl slid his cock between her soft thighs, letting her pussy lips trace its full length, even without penetration. He suddenly unclasped her bra and grabbed a fistful of her soft, red hair.

"Beg me, slut!"
 
Showing my feisty side i say “screw you Dawes we are on the same side. Let me go snd we can forget this little incident” my voice only half protesting out of intimidation and secretly admiring the size of what is proding my hairless pussy from behind. I gasp as the bra clasp is undone as you feel my perky and firm 32C’s. My heavy breathing out of nervous anticipation fills the empty room.
 
"Wrong answer, slut!" Darryl snapped, swiping up the back if her open dress to bring down his hand on her ass hard, slapping the round, jiggly orb of her firm ass, "I know too well that we're on the same side, but I also know that you couldn't forget this little encounter if you tried. That's why I'm not going to rape you, like some filthy inmate... admit that you want this, and I'll fuck you just as roughly as if I were raping you."

Another hard spank, then the hand gripping her hair changed its grip enough that he could lay his forearm across the back of her neck and slam her torso roughly onto the metal table, still grinding his huge cock between her thighs.

"I want you as an ally, Ms. Cumstrom... or is it Mrs.? But the first step to welcoming you into my trust, is for you to be honest with yourself..."

Keeping her face pinned against the table, Darryl drew his hips back far enough to line up his cock with her exposed pussy. Then, he slammed his massive cock into her slender body, hard enough for the table legs to skid a few inches across the floor, hammering her cervix before withdrawing his cock again, just as fast.

"You want more of that cock, I know you do. Now beg me for more, it's in your nature."
 
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