Bored

Bored, scared, humiliated. All those things, but above all, horny. There I was, three weeks into a six-month sentence for my third DWI-induced collision, a victim of incompetent lawyering, a sadistic judge, and my own stupidity. Well, I was determined to stick it out with dignity. Nothing else to do really. And a good opportunity to go sober. But I sorely missed Alex. I'd be lucky if he was still there for me when I "returned to normal society". I wouldn't blame him if he weren't. So not for the first time I lay on my bunk in the dark, in a complete melancholy, massaging myself toward orgasm. While it was the habit of some of my less inhibited fellow prisoners to be very vocal when doing similarly, I made an effort to stifle my sighs in my pillow while the incredible soft-wet under my fingers made those very soft, familiar sounds like a kitten lapping at a plate of milk.

Or maybe not so tiny. I froze when I heard Linda, my check-forging cell mate, stir in the bunk below mine. Not that I had not heard her do the same as I was doing now, but it was still a pretty big shock when she gingerly peeked up from underneath with a big smile. whispering "Let me help". I have no idea what made me close my eyes and nod my head yes. It would never have occurred to me to do such a thing on the outside. But Linda and I had gotten to know each other over the weeks and I had found her rather sweet if a little nag. So wrapped her arms under my outstretched legs, slid my hips over to the edge of the bunk and proceeded to drive me gently crazy. With Alex, oral sex had always been driving, intense, and as much as I had loved it, almost too overwhelming. It was as if he was demanding that I have an orgasm as quickly as possible so we could get on with his agenda. Linda was unhurried, languid, like she could go on forever. And, of course, she knew my body like her own. If the devil came to me tomorrow and said "Choose! Alex or Linda for the rest of your life!", I doubt I would give up Alex and all the lovely things that men can provide. But I'd think about it a minute or two. That one encounter with Linda was truly wonderful. She went on for what seemed like hours. To this day I wonder if I would have been able to return the favor. But for better or worse, I was never to have the chance.

I was about to drift into what must have been my 5th or 6th orgasm when a barely audible voice came from the dark outside the cell. "Having fun"? My pussy clamped shut like a barnacle and I almost went into shock. Linda gasped and collapsed onto her bunk below and we both clutched at the sheets to cover ourselves. There at the bars of the cell was a woman I had never seen before, 40-ish, fleshy, austerely attractive, wearing an elegant skirt and blouse as if she had been out for the evening. Flanking her were two female guards, both unfamiliar.

"So", she said. "Do you think that you are here on vacation? Maybe you think 'minimum security facility; means 'summer camp', or perhaps 'spa'? This is a prison, and prisons have wardens and wardens control prisoners. You are out of control, and I don't like that. Fortunately, my guards here know I don't like it, and so they call me when they hear such goings on in the cell block. I had to leave a very nice party to come here and deal with you. Anyway, you are hereby informed that any sort of recreational activities happen only when I want them to. Tomorrow, we will deal with this."

With that, the cell door was opened from the remote control at the block guard station, and the two guards entered. By now, of course, everyone in the block was awake, and the girls in the opposite cells were watching everything with rapt attention. The guards stripped us completely naked. They stood Linda up facing the bars and cuffed her hands to the bar at eye level. Me they marched outside and did the same, exactly facing Linda. When we were secure, the warden stepped over to me, reached down between my legs and before I had a chance to react, ran her finger along my still slick and swollen lips. "Very nice. I hope you enjoyed that. It's going to be a while." The three left, and there we stood for the rest of the night. Cold, sleepless, and scared to death. "I'm sorry," whispered Linda after the mutterings and soft laughter from our fellow inmates had died down. "It's not your fault", I said and reached in to stroke her face as well as the cuffs would allow, "but what the hell are they going to do to us?" Not everyone was asleep, because a voice came from a nearby cell saying "Beat's me sister. She's brand new."

Early the next morning, the warden and the guards reappeared, the guards carrying a large box between them. They put it down next to me. Dazed, sleepless, cold and scared, I was no match for them. Before I realized what was happening, they pulled out a long iron bar with cuffs on each end, spread my legs apart and clapped the cuffs on my ankles. I went numb. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. And then, they pulled out what would become my constant companion. I had never seen such a thing, or even contemplated one, but its shape made it pretty clear what it was. Steel underpants were not the fashion where I came from, and so I knew a chastity belt when I saw one, even if I didn't know what to call it. Horrified and disbelieving, I squirmed and twisted with all my strength, but hobbled as I was hand and foot, and as strong as the guards were, they had it around my waist and between my legs in short order. A terrifying click and the thing was on me. I screamed and cried and nearly fainted, but they held me up until I recovered, sobbing. "How can you do this", I screamed. "I have rights". But the warden just smiled and went on to Linda. She knew what was coming. Even before the cell door was opened, she was bucking and pulling frantically at her handcuffs. But she was no match for them either. First the leg irons, and then the belt. Click, click, click.

We both stood there in a daze. The warden left the cell, and as I came out of my panic and shock, I could hear nervous laughter and muttering from the rest of the floor. "You may well laugh", she said. "I am tired of having to deal with these incidents. I may be new, but I know what goes on here, and how often. And I see disrespect, disorder, petty thievery, black marketeering, fighting and disobedience. There must be punishment and there must be rewards to bring you into line. I am here to show you that I am in control of every corner of this prison, and I am in control of every one of you from top to bottom. You work when I say work; you eat when I say eat; you shit when I say shit; and you come when I say come. I won't have it any other way. And if any of you feel like complaining to the outside, the parole board will hear from me." And with that, a second pair of guard came in with a large cart piled high with those cruel devices of all shapes and sizes, tailor made to each wearer from the measurements they had taken for our prison uniforms. Over the next two hours, as Linda and I stood there in stunned silence, they went from cell to cell. They pulled each girl out of the cell, cuffed her hands to the cell bars, and while two guards held her legs, two others applied on the leg irons. Then it was a simple matter to clamp the belt on the poor immobilized victim.

From my vantage point, chained as I was to the bars of my cell, I had a front row seat to the likes of which I have never seen before or since. Those as yet unmolested were either cowering with fear or screaming and cursing at the warden through the bars. The victim of the moment was struggling and screaming louder than anyone else, grabbing onto the bed for dear life so as not to be chained to the cell bars. The most recently treated victims were sobbing and straining against the cuffs that held them to the bars of their cells, staring down in disbelief between their outspread legs.

Finally, after the last girl was standing naked and belted, the warden walked to center of the hall. Everyone fell silent as she looked sharp-eyed around the gallery. "Now we will have some respect and order in here. If you wish to be granted release from your prison within a prison, you will do as I say. These", she said, shaking a small, locked steel box, "are the keys to your pleasure and to your frustration. Remember that I own them." With that, she took the box and left, the only sound the striking of her heels against the concrete floor. When she was gone, the guards went down the ranks, removing cuffs, removing the leg shackles and pushing us back into our cells. I don't know where the warden had found these grinning sadists. They had clearly enjoyed their job of clamping off the sex of dozens of struggling women. And now that the warden was gone they broke their silence. Hardly anyone escaped a slapped butt, or a fondled breast and some comment, "Nice ass, honey", or "Be nice to me now, sister, or you're gonna wear that thing for a long time", or "Doesn't look anyone will be missing much with this one".

For all of us, the reality of the situation started to sink in. All around the cell block, women were tugging at their new hardware, probing here and there, bending and stretching this way and that, trying to get at their pussies, now securely locked away. For Linda and me it was the same. I couldn't believe how tightly the steel lay against the skin at every point. The lips of my pussy poked out a little from the narrow slit in the front, but the clit was completely out of reach. The very thought sent the blood rushing to it, making me want to touch it more than ever. I tugged at the stray pubic hairs sticking out the sides of the belt, pulled at the skin of my inner thigh. That teased my clit ever so slightly, but nowhere near enough. It was all I could do not to beat on the steel in a vain attempt to get some sensation to my aching parts. Linda was in no better shape, pushing the belt against the bars of the cell with her hips, trying to get the belt to move against her by even a fraction of an inch. She licked her finger to moisten it, and ran it up and down the bit of labia protruding from the slot, but from her tears, it was clear that is was doing her no good. For those who have never felt it, the terror of having the very center of your pleasure so close at hand and yet so completely inaccessible, of having such a vital part of your being taken over by someone else, is impossible to know.

The next two weeks were absolute hell. No one was sleeping, every one was haggard and angry. We were smoldering. As the days went by, a few lucky women had wet dreams, moaning and coming, and then jerking awake to find themselves wet and at least partly spent. A very few, rather repressed, sexless creatures were pretty much indifferent to the whole thing except for the minor discomfort of the belt. But the rest of us just woke up from vague sex-charged dreams, aroused, frantic, aching and helpless, holding our hands against the steel between our legs and rocking back and forth, crying in frustration. The atmosphere was so sexually charged, we could never forget. Everyone was embarrassed, everyone knew what you were going through, could see the outline of the belt through your prison shift, could see your hands wanting to go THERE at every moment.

We saw nothing of the warden, but the guards did their best to inflame us. The worst of them would tap their billy clubs expertly against the front shield of our belts as they passed by and say "getting any lately?" Showers were now a public ordeal. Once a week we were handcuffed to specially installed rings in the shower room. A guard took the belt off and we were hosed down, first with soapy water and then with clean. It was almost impossible not to open your legs wide, hoping that the stream of water would hit home, if only just for a moment. But it never did, and all you got was a smirk from the guard wielding the hose, and a flush of embarrassment that went all the way down your body. Then on with the belt again and a few moments to wash the rest of you. That moment of fresh water and air between the legs, even while shackled to the wall, made donning the belt again that much more intolerable.

But just when we were getting used to the routine, getting used to the idea of not having any, the Games began. The morning of the third week, the Warden suddenly appeared with her usual cadre of guards while everyone was still in their cells. "The keys, girls", she said. "I never said there would be no fun. Just fun on my terms. Everybody gets to pick one." One by one, sweating and trembling, we were made to strip down to bra and belt, and led out of our cells to reach into the bag and pick a key at random. Most of us were shaking so, that we could barely get the key into the lock. And one by one, we each gave out a little cry of anguish when it would not turn, and we were dragged struggling back to our cells. Until Linda. We all watched with rapt attention as her key turned in the lock. We gasped in unison as the crotch band popped open where it met her waist. Linda looked up at the Warden, frozen, not knowing what to do next. She started to run back to the cell with her newfound freedom, but the nearest guard grabbed her, and the Warden said "You're not going to deprive us, are you? I'll give you 5 minutes." She balked at first, but like the rest of us, Linda was too pent up. With a quick look around the room, she made up her mind, swept the box of keys off the chair they were on and sat down. She gave a show that none of us will ever forget. She slouched down until her crotch hung off the edge of the chair, spread her legs and started a slow masturbation that drove us all--Warden included--off the edge. The tips of all four fingers flattened against her whole pudendum she rubbed in wide circles. It wasn't long before her pussy was slick and swollen. Glistening fingers poking in and out, Linda was beaming, sighing, panting, completely oblivious to any of us. We cheered, we cried in frustration, we banged our belts against the bars, a few of the most sexual of us even came inside their belts just from the sight of Linda in bliss, we were that charged up from our longs days and nights of deprivation.

At long last, Linda opened her eyes and got up slowly. The guards were gentle as they reapplied Linda's belt and clicked it shut. "You see" said the Warden, "I have my generous side." And with that, she left, leaving 99% of us worse off then ever at the site of all those orgasms that we couldn't have. Linda slept contentedly in her bunk for 3 hours.

Could the Geneva Convention have conceived of such torture? All day, I walked around with visions in my head of Linda's fingers on her hairy slot. And all night, there was Linda in the bunk below me, eager to please but for the personal cell that imprisoned my sex. One night I begged her to lick the tiny slit at the center of the shield. She did with all the best of intentions, caressing my breasts as she did so. But the warmth and the attention only fed the flames. The slit was clearly there as much to tease its owner as for any practical reason. So this time, I was writhing in the agony of imprisoned desire instead of orgasmic ecstasy when the lights came on suddenly in the cell for the second time. This time, no Warden. Just the grinning guards. We hardly cared at first. What more could they do to us? When they handcuffed each of our arms and legs to the corners of our bunks and left us there stretched out uncomfortably for the night it hardly seemed worth complaining about. It was when they said "No games for you, this week", that our hearts sank.

And so it was. Exactly one week after the Linda's wild ride, the Warden again came in with several guards while we were still in our cells. "Good morning, ladies", she said. "Who would like to join the cunt races?" Everyone did, without even knowing what they were. And so we all started pleading and reaching out through the bars. The Warden took on an evaluating look, strolling the gallery, examining each cell in turn. First she came to Linda and me, looked for a while and said, "Oh yes. You are opting out today, I hear. Why don't you come and be our official judges?" And so she had our cell opened, and we were led out to the middle of the gallery where the action was clearly to take place. There we were cuffed, arms over out heads, to a wooden frame that they had brought along.

Then the Warden resumed her tour of the cells. Linda and I, from our vantage point could see into all the cells. Trying to entice her, the some girls put their hands on the bars and their tongues out in mock lasciviousness; others stripped in a poor imitation of an erotic dancer, some humped a chair or the bed, others just shouted out what they could do for her. In the end she picked Darlene, a petite girl who turned her back to the Warden and did the subtlest, sexiest bump-and-grind I've ever seen. Her ass thrown back and gyrating just so, hands on her thighs, looking straight over her shoulder at the Warden without expression. Fully clothed, she would twitch up her shift to show the merest glimpses of her chastity belt, offsetting the curve on the back of her leg where it met her ass. It was thrilling to watch someone so truly in command of her body. The next one chosen was a woman I didn't know who had grabbed her cell mate and started kissing her breasts in a most passionate manner.

The two were led out, and stripped, then their hands cuffed behind their backs. "The first to reach orgasm will have her belt off once a day for three days". said the Warden. And with that, a guard brought out two amazing devices about 2 feet high with saddle shaped tops and a nicely proportioned dildo protruding straight up where one might sit on it comfortably. Each one was humming noticeably with vibrations coming from the mechanism inside. The guards removed the belts of the two girls. You could see them struggle. They looked at all the spectators with embarrassment, reddened, and then as they thought of the prize offered, they both mounted their steeds. Cuffed as she was, Darlene at first had trouble getting herself positioned so that the dildo would enter her. And when she did, she lowered herself gingerly. I think the embarrassment had dried her up. The other girl slipped her dildo in unerringly. She must have been dripping wet from the start at the prospect of being unbelted for the first time in three weeks. She was rocking steadily in no time, using her hands behind her back to support her on the saddle, her muscles gradually tensing as her orgasm grew nearer. Leaning back as she was, she exposed her pussy and we could clearly see the dildo darting in and out, pulling the folds of her labia in and out with it, teasing her clit in a steady rhythm. Darlene didn't have a chance. She was just getting into her rhythm as the other girl threw her head back. Her whole body spasmed as an unmistakable flush spread across her chest. She was not faking it and it was a beautiful thing to behold. The guards immediately grabbed Darlene by the arms and hoisted her up into the air. She screamed and struggled to get back down onto her dildo as they put the belt back on and added her to the rack that Linda and I were on. How she must have felt we all knew. We were just as aroused as she was with no relief in sight. So close, so close.

The next three days were as miserable and unbearable as the last had been, only this time we had to endure the sight and sound of Candice (that was her name), getting her belt taken off and humping that damned saddle contraption, every morning in the center of the gallery when we were all safely locked away in our cells and our belts. How we hated her by the end of the three days. But we knew her every sexual habit. With no cuffs this time, she would lean forward and take the dildo shallow and fast for a while, her little butt bouncing in the air. Then she would take it completely in and drag her vulva forward and backward along the vibrating surface of the saddle, massaging her clit until she would give a guttural cry and hunch forward. It was riveting. Even the guards would gently rub themselves absent-mindedly through their tight black skirts as she performed. When it was all over, the guards would pull her up, put her belt back on, and lead her back to her cell. We all watched in rapt attention, and could almost feel that thing in our own pussies. Almost.

If only the Warden had locked up our pussies and left it at that. Every day, though she devised some new reminder of our condition. The next week the cunt races got a new twist. This time she selected two pairs of girls from two cells. One of each pair got her belt taken off and her hands strapped above her head on the wooden frame Linda and I had already been introduced to. The other remained belted. "You two", she said pointing to the belted pair, "will bring your cell mate to orgasm any way you can. The first to do so will be treated to the same by her grateful cell mate The other... Well, what can I say?" And off they went, lapping for dear life at their cell mates' pussies, while the subject of their attentions tried to hold still while dangling from their straps and writhing in pleasure at the same time. The first one to come (and it was pretty obvious) indeed returned the favor while the two losers got to spend the rest of the day naked and strung up for all to see, while each one blamed the other for being inept or frigid, whichever applied. The rest of us got to see writhing, naked, jiggling, coming girl flesh that wasn't ours, and it drove us nuts.

The next weeks were the same. "Doubles cunt races" we had dubbed them by now. It made for endless strategies. Cell mates' described to each other as best they could (without demonstration) how best to get them coming in the shortest time possible. Expert strategies were developed for holding your partner's legs while reaching up between them with your tongue. Girls who had never contemplated kissing another woman's sex became experts, all for the slim chance of getting the hateful belt off and for having a bit of peace from the constant longing. Bargains were struck with the frigid types: "If you are first, then just fake it so I can get some." Some girls just faked it anyway since they knew they were slow and happened to hate their competitors or like their cell mates' Others tried to hide their orgasms, so their competitors could come, too. The Warden usually saw through these little ruses, and punished the perpetrator of orgasmic fraud severely. By now she had introduced secondary shields as punishment, and those were immediately dispensed for a week to both cell mates', hiding even the little folds of vaginal lips that peaked out between the slit in the belt, making even the simplest bodily functions a chore. And, of course, game privileges were withdrawn. We soon learned not to fake it.

It didn't end there, of course. The next week was yet a new shocker. On Game Day, the Warden came in and announced there was a special treat. It seemed that we were not the only inmates to be treated as we were. You could have heard a pin drop as the warden led in two young men, in prison fatigues, hand and leg cuffs secure, heads bowed. None of us could speak as the blood left collective brains and rushed instantly to our clits. Slightly unshaven, clean, moderately good looking, but who cared. And so it was that the cunt races that day were to have men providing the service. A few women hung back. Strange men giving them head was too much even in their deprived states. But most were eager to join the game. While the Warden usually picked the contestants (I used imagine the Warden calling out in Monte Hall style: "Glenda Williams. Come on down!"), this time it was by key lottery. Pick a key at random, see if it fits in your lock. "Oh God", said the first one to hear a delightful little click, as she almost came from the anticipation. The guards had to grab her arms as her hands darted reflexively down between her legs. Once the two lucky ones were suspended in position, the Warden explained the game to the happy, dazed boys, and set them to the task at hand. Soon they were frantically licking away. One was clearly far more experienced than the other, who barely knew where the right spots were for his partner. She cried in frustration, shouting directions and trying to move herself into the darting tongue. "Hold my legs", she shouted but suspended as she was and as awkward as her partner was, it was no use. By contrast, the other boy was clearly in his element. He knelt down in front of his partner, hoisted her legs onto his shoulders, wrapped his arms around her legs and buried his face in her cunt. Why had we never thought of that! Seeing how inept the competition was, he slowed down, took his time, teasing and pleasing his partner, who was in heaven. When she finally came (I think it was her first turn at the games since the whole thing had started weeks before), the Warden, entranced by this little scene of expert cunt licking, let them continue for many minutes and many more orgasms. At last the girl sagged against the straps and could take no more.

The usual reward for the one who brought her partner to climax was to be served alike by her partner. Not this time. The Warden had both girls taken back to their cells and said "This calls for some special treatment. I have not seen such expert tongue work in a very long time", she said. "It should not go unrewarded. Do you do as well with your cock?" And with that she had the guards remove the leg irons from the boy and remove his pants. There, to our astonishment, was a gleaming chastity belt not unlike ours. He blushed with shame as we all hooted and hollered in fun, even though we were no better off. Soon enough, though, the more important question of who would get this prize entered our heads and the ridicule turned into frantic calls of "Me! Me". We all began putting on our best shows, as if it were he who would choose. Breasts were bared, skirts lifted, crotch shields rubbed with come hither looks. The boy was wide-eyed in excitement. "Oh, no", said the Warden. "None of you have earned as much as that! You've been having your fun at my indulgence for all these weeks. Now don't you think it's my turn?" Her hands went to the front of her blouse, and as we all looked on in astonishment she undid all the buttons and flung it away, unhooked her bra and let her breasts spring free, unzipped her skirt letting it drop to the floor, and pushed her slip down around her legs. There for all to see was a tight-fitting, gleaming steel chastity belt just like ours, complete with secondary shield. We were stunned to silence. "You think I don't demand the same of myself that I do of you?" she said. "There is one difference, however", she said with a smile. "I have the key." And indeed she did, strung on a little silver chain around her neck. "I have self discipline unlike you and so I do not need someone to keep it for me. I am just as strung out as you are. But I relish the frustration and longing because I know how it heightens the ultimate prize when it finally comes." Judging from what followed, she was right. I'd take a lot of deprivation to get what she got.

She turned to the boy. "What are you waiting for?" To his credit, the boy just stood there smiling for what seemed like a long time, given that he too had likely not seen his organ for a good many weeks. He slowly reached up and took the key from around her neck. Fitting the key into the lock of her belt he waited again for what seemed like an eternity and then turned it until it clicked, making a large echo in the silent gallery. Then he took hold of the belt and gently eased it over the Warden's hips, guiding her legs ever so slightly apart to make way for the shield. She stood like a schoolgirl, hands at her neck, folded arms shielding her breasts, face turned away in what seemed almost like shyness. He lay the belt down on the floor and stood up again, scooped her up and lay her down on the table nearby, her legs drawn up, her pussy exposed for all of us to see. She had glorious full lips, covered with soft light down. Engorged in excitement as she was, the clit and inner lips were fully exposed and flushed. She could not have been more inviting. It almost made me want to be a man for just that moment.

At first he just laid his hands between her legs without moving them, covering every square inch of her mound. You could tell she really had been pent up as long as we had. She closed her eyes and rocked herself gently against his hands, in a dream of her own, enjoying the warmth on her pussy where the hard metal of the belt had clearly been for some time. Then he bent down and began the expert mouth work he had just performed in the Games. Laying the flat of his tongue on the outside of her pussy and working it in circles, sucking on every part of her swollen lips and clit, putting his tongue as far into her as he could go. The Warden responded instantly, writhing and shuddering, rolling her hips in ecstasy, clutching at her breasts, then the next moment grabbing his hands from under her hips and putting them on her nipples. Neither of them hurried. It was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. Two sex-starved people taking their time, every nerve sucking up the sensation of being touched, holding themselves back to prolong the pleasure. This time the guards weren't just rubbing themselves through their skirts. Some of them had their skirts hiked up as they fingered themselves under their panties. Not us. We just stared numbly from our cells, aching in every part of us, dripping wet behind steel where our fingers longed to be.

Finally, The Warden took the boy's head between her hands and pulled him away, motioning to one of the guards, who instantly produced another key. The Warden sat up, pushed the boy back slightly and unlocked his chastity belt. As it fell away, his cock sprang up instantly. This time it was she who took him into her hands, again not moving, just holding, and he stared down at her now very wet pussy with unutterable rapture. She lay back again, spread her legs wide and still holding his penis drew it slowly into her. To this day I don't know how he managed not to come instantly. But he held himself still and then rather than thrusting in and out, grabbed her by the cheeks and rolled her up and down against him and he rocked forward and back. The friction on her clit and the pressure of his cock inside her must have been sublime, because she was coming again in an instant. Then she threw her legs over his shoulders, raised herself up a little and clung to his neck as he moved straight in and out. With every stroke we could see the very tip of his cock appear from within the folds around the entrance to her pussy and then disappear again deep inside as he pulled her toward him, hands on her waist. Her breasts rolled with the shock each stroke. Finally it was over. One last deep orgasm for her, one explosive orgasm for him and he collapsed onto her in a spent, sweaty heap.

We were awed. After a while the boy roused himself, gave himself resignedly over to the guards who reapplied his belt and clothes and chains. So did the Warden. She stood legs apart, arms out as they put on her belt and then dressed her. It was beautiful in a way, her giving herself back to the belt for what clearly must be long self-imposed periods of chastity. When she had regained all her wardenly demeanor and the two men were led away, she finally spoke. "Keys for all", she said. We cheered, we clapped, we banged the bars with abandon.

The guards just opened the key box, grabbed them by the handful and threw them at the cells. We scrambled, grabbing one up, trying it, passing it on to the next cell if it didn't fit. Before long, everyone had their own key and belts were being shed as fast as our trembling, sweaty hands could fit the keys into the locks. Not many had won at the games and so for most it was the first time we had seen or felt our pussies for months. Some just went it alone, clasping their hands between their legs or humping pillows in every manner of position. Others fell on their cell mates', clamping mouths to lunging, yearning clits. Even the so-called frigid ones among us joined in. And she was right, that Warden. The weeks of pent up frustration had made us so sensitive, so receptive that we all had some of the most intense climaxes of our lives.

But that was the last time I got to see my own pussy for the rest of the six months. Weeks of loathing the Warden, and yet desperate for her to give us relief and mercy. Weeks of thinking of nothing but sex, watching some lucky girl get sent into spasms of pleasure while we looked on desperately.

Finally my time was up. Back in my civilian clothes at last, I was led to the Warden's office. She looked up from what she was working on when I was ushered in. "It is my real hope that you have learned your lesson and will refrain from the behavior that brought you here in the first place. Our little games will perhaps provide a little added incentive to stay away. But I suspect that unlike most of the women here, you understand the more subtle aspects of what motivates me to treat my wards the way I do. It's not just for the practical measure of control, you know. I hope you won't hate me too much." She was right. I did understand why she loved to tease us so unmercifully, and to tease herself as well. That it served her purpose as Warden was just a bonus. As much as she had taught me about my own sensuality, though, I still hated her for taking control the way she did. How could I not? I 'm sure my look told her as much. She fell silent, and with a sigh of someone who feels deeply misunderstood, she unlocked her desk and brought out the box of keys that I had seen so often on the prison floor. She picked out the one with my number on it, and came around the desk toward me. Without a word, I unzipped my slacks and lowered them to expose the lock of the chastity belt. I stood sullenly while she inserted the key and released me for one last time. Oh what a sensation? The dull, deadening metal gone from between my legs, the hair, the skin just waiting to be touched. She ran her fingers along the front of my thigh. "You know, I will miss your lovely body gracing our little home-away-from-home, here." I almost gasped. THERE. I wanted her fingers THERE. It took every ounce of strength not to turn toward her hand, not to grab it and press it home. But I pulled myself away and dressed hurriedly. I wonder how many before me had not.

Instantly the Warden became all business. Striding back behind her desk, her voice all sternness she said "Oh by the way. I would think twice about telling people what goes on in here." I had been thinking very hard about just that. She turned and opened the large cabinet that sat behind her, revealing a television monitor. On it was playing a video...of me! There I was, frantically clasping Linda as she applied her tongue to me. I was horrified and at the same time fascinated to see myself thrusting my hips toward her mouth, thrashing side to side on that day when we were all released. I hung my head and realized that she was right. I would not risk her releasing the video. It was perfect blackmail. "No," I said. "I will not be talking much about my time here."

Then as I looked down in embarrassment, I saw on her desk the very key that the Warden had had around her neck that day, still on its little silver chain. I couldn't believe it. The thoughts started whirling through my head. Is it really the same key? Did she have an extra? Was she wearing her belt now? Could she really have left the key there by accident? As the Warden turned to close the video cabinet, I reached over and slid it silently off the desk and into my hand. She dismissed me and I left. I could hardly breathe as I was processed by the guards, buzzed through one gate after another on the way to the outside. At each moment I expected a frantic call from the Warden, or a guard to run up and stop the whole process, to be sent back into purgatory for an even longer term. I only breathed as I passed the last door and walked as unhurriedly as I could, out into the sunlight.

I nearly cried when I saw Alex, waiting for me like an angel. I hadn't heard from him for months. We fairly pounced on each other, kissing and hugging and running to the car, racing home, ripping each other's clothes off, fucking like there was no tomorrow. I think I would have done the Warden proud; it was the best sex we'd ever had, and I think I knew now how to make it keep on happening.

When at last we were done, I propped myself up on my elbow and looked over at Alex, dangling the key from my finger. "Alex", I said. "I think we have some very interesting times ahead of us. You won't believe what I have to tell you." He raised his eyebrows and gave me a puzzled look. As he did so, as if on cue, the phone rang...

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Page last updated 06-Oct-06 by: Altairboy@aol.com