Prison Story

Prison Story Prison Story

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Have you ever came across a woman who was so beautiful and sexy that she redefined the word irresistible? In Prison Story there's a female guard by the name of Appolonia who is that woman. Behind the prison walls of Ryden Penitentiary she meets Dewayne, an inmate who is incarcerated due to his younger brother's crimes and stupidity. After a daring rescue Appolonia and Dewayne develop a friendship. Appolonia uses her power of sex to give her new friend a taste of freedom. During their blossoming friendship Appolonia teaches Dewayne how to forgive and he teaches her how to open up about her painful past.


Have you ever came across a woman who was so beautiful and sexy that she redefined the word irresistible? In Prison Story there's a female guard by the name of Appolonia who is that woman. Behind the prison walls of Ryden Penitentiary she meets Dewayne, an inmate who is incarcerated due to his younger brother's crimes and stupidity. After a daring rescue Appolonia and Dewayne develop a friendship. Appolonia uses her power of sex to give her new friend a taste of freedom. During their blossoming friendship Appolonia teaches Dewayne how to forgive and he teaches her how to open up about her painful past.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Prison Story

Author Chapter Note

Have you ever came across a woman who was so beautiful and sexy that she redefined the word irresistible? In Prison Story there's a female guard by the name of Appolonia who is that woman. Behind the prison walls of Ryden Penitentiary she meets Dewayne, an inmate who is incarcerated due to his younger brother's crimes and stupidity. After a daring rescue Appolonia and Dewayne develop a friendship. Appolonia uses her power of sex to give her new friend a taste of freedom. During their blossoming friendship Appolonia teaches Dewayne how to forgive and he teaches her how to open up about her painful past. <br />

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 06, 2012

Reads: 1156

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 06, 2012



Prison Story

Written by Cynthia Blue




After a long hard night of working at that hellhole I call my place of employment, I decide to visit my husband at his place of business, since I know he is closing up. I can't wait to see him, be in his arms and make passionate love to him. 

You know, a lot of people wonder how do I handle having a husband who owns a whorehouse. And not just any whorehouse: the most successful whorehouse in Las Vegas, Nevada -- the Rising Sunshine. Actually, being married to a proprietor of brothel is not all that bad.  Really, it's pretty interesting.  I don't have any problems with it at all.  Quienton and I have a wonderful marriage.  In fact, we are about to celebrate our ten-year wedding anniversary as soon as I see him. Our marriage is open, so, in other words, we don't have a problem with the other sleeping with other people.  What can I say?  We love sex.  I take that back: we love GREAT SEX.  Yes, we get that from each other, but we also like to adventure out.

Now, where was I?  Oh, yeah: the job I hate.  Well, you see, I am a prison guard at an all male correctional facility called Ryden, and I'm the only guard there with a pussy.  The reasons I hate this job: I hate night shift, it's too demanding, and it's not why I spent all that time in college for. 

I have a degree in Business Administration that I received at FAMU.  And that is where I met my prince charming, Quienton.  He graduated two years before me with the same degree. After he graduated, he moved to Las Vegas and opened Rising Sunshine. After I graduated, he sent for me, and we got married. However, I graduated during this huge economic crisis, and I had a tough time finding a job. 

Quienton was supporting me financially to the point that I didn't have to work at all for the rest of my life.  Yes, it was all good.  All my needs were met.  My hair and nails were always done.  I enjoyed the luxury of shopping for Prada, Coach, Gucci, Dolce & Gabanna, Versace... on a regular basis. And Tiffani's for my jewelry.  I'll admit that I liked being taken care of, but I'm my own person, and I like my independence a lot more.  So, as a last resort, an old friend of mine at Ryden suggested that I become a guard, and that is what I've been doing for the past eight years. 

Quienton knows that I hate my job, but he understands why I stick it out. In fact, he wants to close this brothel and move to Cancun, Mexico, and open a brand new one, with he and I running it together. 

One improvement about my job was that, after all this time, I finally got moved to the morning shift. So that will give me time with the man I love and do my approved open marriage whoring.

I made it to the parking lot of Rising Sunshine and go inside. Some of the girls are still preparing to go home. I say, "Hello," and grab a handful of tits and ass and steal kisses. (Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention: I'm bisexual.  One of the many things that Quienton loves about me. That and the fact that I love sex and am a big freak.)

I go into Quienton's office, and he comes and gives me one of his big, wet, sloppy kisses that I love.  "I take it that you miss me," I said.

"How was your day, baby?" asked Quienton.

"Ugh! Same shit, different toilet!" I said.  "I will be so happy when I start day shift on Monday.  But at least I have the weekend off, and that will give us time to celebrate our anniversary."

"Yeah," said Quienton.  "Ten years and we haven't killed each other yet."  We both laughed.  "You know, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.  I love you so much."

"I love you, too," I said.  "I'm so sick of being a guard.  I hate it.  I even hate wearing this fucking uniform."

"Well, I can fix that," said Quienton.  He started unbuttoning my shirt.  As he is doing that, I take off my shoes and pants, and all I have on now are my matching black bra and thong from Victoria's Secret -- my favorite store.  The 40% discount for my husband's "employees" was my idea.

"Shit.  You got a nice body," Quienton said as I helped him out of his clothes.  "I love these nice succulent 36DD tits, those nice thick legs.  And especially this gorgeous, big, juicy ass of yours!"  He grabs it and spanks it.  That shit really turns me on!

Everyone is gone.  We lock the door, turn off the lights, and retire to one of the rooms that Quienton set up especially for us to spend our anniversary.  Yes, we are spending our tenth wedding anniversary weekend in a brothel.  We have bottles of champagne, food, beer, liquors and everything you can imagine to keep us entertained for the whole weekend.

Quienton carried me to the room, and his tall and light-skinned muscular body joins my short, thick and brown-skinned body, and we became one.  He plunges his dick inside me and made me cum in less than a minute.

My favorite part of a man's body, other than their dick, is their ass.  I just love to touch it and grab hold to it while they bury themselves in my pussy. I also like rubbing my fingers through Quienton’s long braids while making love.

After ten minutes, he turns me around and takes me doggystyle: my favorite position.  Then we tried 69.  It was difficult at first, but we got the hang of it.  That man knows how to eat some pussy, and I love sucking his huge dick.

And that's how we spent the weekend: fucking, eating, drinking, fucking, drinking, playing Playstation 3, watching movies, fucking... Well, you get the picture.




Five motherfucking years and ten more to go.  Five motherfucking years I am wasting, locked up and rotting in this shithole.  And why?  Because of my selfish and ignorant younger brother Michael.  I remember it like it was yesterday...

My brother was visiting me, and he was talking about taking me to Rising Sunshine, some brothel in Las Vegas.  We had never been there before, but we heard from friends that it was wild, fun and crazy, and the women were fine and sexy as hell.

We're driving, and the cops pull us over.  I knew we weren't speeding, and I hadn't been drinking at all that day.  As soon as the cops came, they suddenly drag my brother and me out of the car, and were yelling, "After all these years, we finally caught you!"

I turned to Michael and shouted, "What the fuck is going on?"

One of the cops growled to me, "You should really be careful about who you associate with.  Your brother here is a dangerous drug dealer."  He pulled me to the back of the car, popped the trunk, and said, "See for yourself."  There, I saw several bags of coke, heroin, weed... I didn't mind the weed, if we were smoking it. You name it, Michael had it.

Because of the association and because it was my car, I was taken down as well.  We were sentenced to fifteen years, and I haven't spoken to that bastard since.  Despite his constant tries to make amends, I just didn't want to hear it.  I just intended to do this time (that I so did not deserve), keep to myself, stay out of drama, and I'm done.

In here, no one fucks with me.  They pretty much leave me alone.  It was because, when I first got here, someone tried me.  They actually attempted to rape me, and I let them know straight-up that I wasn't the one.  I may be kind of small, but I can fight fairly well, and I'm pretty strong.  After my assailant made an infirmary visit, I haven't had any problems with anyone else.  Since I've been in here, I gained a lot more muscle, and I focused on my writing and drawing.

My cellmate is pretty cool.  His name is Johnny, and he is a lifer that has been here for thirty years.  He helped me cope with prison life, and he said that I reminded him of himself.  He's the one that suggested that I write and draw.  He also says that I should make up with Michael, but that shit ain't happening.

Johnny is locked up for killing his daughter's rapist.  When he told me that, he automatically won my respect.  He says he hates being locked up, but he would do it again, because he loves his daughter that much.  This is also the main reason other inmates respect him.  Even the guards and warden.

It's now time to go outside and get some exercise... and avoid Michael.  Johnny told me that a guard who has been here for eight years recently switched from night shift to morning shift.  We went outside, and he pointed the guard out to me.  All I could say was, "WOW!"  This is a very beautiful young woman.  She is so sexy, thick, nice curves and a nice brown complexion.

Now, I remind you: I have not seen a member of the opposite sex in five years.  (Thank you, Michael.)  So you know I'm excited to see any woman, especially a fine woman like that.  Right now, just looking at her is enough for me.




The morning shift was actually okay.  I still hate the job, but it is getting slightly better.  While I was doing my rounds earlier today in the common area, I noticed these two guys.  They looked like they could be brothers.  If I am right about their relations, I can tell which was the older and which was the younger.

The older one had on glasses and had a tad bit of muscle of him.  He was pretty cute.  He also looked like he was wise.  I also noticed that he didn't want to be bothered with the younger one. 

The younger one was cute, too, but he had this "don't know any better" vibe about him.  What gave it away was the fact that his pants were sagging off his ass inside prison walls.  I never understood how that became a style and why it's STILL a style.  It looks stupid as hell, and, if these knuckleheads knew what it meant, they wouldn't do it.  It came from prison, and you're basically telling your fellow inmates that you're "available."

It's later in the afternoon.  I continued on my rounds as planned, when I heard a loud scream from the shower.  Someone was then heard saying, "I am getting this ass, and you're taking this dick!"

The second I heard that, I burst through the shower doors and pushed through the other inmates.  This big guy was just about to rape this skinny guy when I smashed his head with my billy club.  I yelled at the other inmates, "Everyone get dressed and get the fuck out!  Now!" 

I turned the guy over, and it was the one that was sagging earlier.  He was beaten pretty badly.  I got him dressed and practically carried him to the infirmary.  I stayed with him until I got the news from the doctor about his condition.  He wasn't raped.  Thank God.  He had some broken ribs, and he was out of it, but he should reach full recovery within a month.

This is what I hate about my job the most: prison rape.  No one deserves that type of degradation and humiliation.  I do my very best to prevent and stop it the best way that I can.  Because of this, I'm known as the "Ass Saver." Okay, I'll be that.

Today was so frustrating; I didn't even care about walking around in water-soaked clothes and fucked up hair from the showers.  Well, I'm getting my hair done when I get off anyway, so I'll be alright.




  "Yo, Dewayne!"  I turned to see Johnny running toward me.  "You heard?"

"Slow down," I said.  "What happened?"

"Your brother, Michael," came the answer.  "He's in the infirmary."


"Yeah.  Big Bronco tried to rape him."


"You need to go see him."

I shook my head.  "I don't think so," I laughed nervously.

Johnny growled, "Don't act like you don't care, Dewayne.  That's your brother, regardless of what happened between you."

I rub my face in frustration.  "Look," Johnny went on, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you do need to go see him."

I rub my face again.  I tend to do that when I get confused or frustrated.  "Alright. I'll think about it," I lamented.  I looked up and asked, "Who's responsible for saving my brother?"

Johnny answered, “The guard I pointed out to you.”

“Really the fine one?” I asked with a smile.

“Considering that she’s the only female in the prison, and she's beautiful: yes, the fine one.”

“I need to thank her.”

“And while you’re at it, go see your brother.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.”

  Damn!  I really hope that Michael is okay.  It's been three days, and I still haven't made up my mind about visiting him.  I'm so confused: I didn't want Michael to get hurt or die, but I'm still pissed at him.

I go outside, and I see the female guard that Johnny said rescued Michael and walk up to her.  "Hi," she greeted.  Oh, she's friendly.  That's good.

"I just wanted to thank you for saving my brother," I said.

"Oh, so I was right," she said.  "And you're welcome."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion.  "What do you mean?"

"I had guessed that y'all were brothers," she said.  "I also noticed that you two are not very close.  Do you want to talk about it?"

Let's see friendly, smart, beautiful and compassionate.  I'm starting to like her more.  I told her my tale of woe and my conflict about visiting Michael.  She was actually apologetic and sympathetic.  It's official.  I like her.

"Look," she said, "I know you're pissed at Michael, but he really needs you.  Especially now more than ever.  At least try to make amends, or meet him halfway."  She sounds like Johnny...  "I know you care about him.  If you didn't, you wouldn't have thanked me for rescuing him."

"Ok.  I'll think about it," I said.  "By the way, my name is Dewayne."

She shakes my hand and says, "Appolonia.  You seem like a really cool person, and I'll look after you and your brother and take care of y'all."

I said, "Thanks for saving my brother and offering your support. How can I ever thank you?"

Appolonia says, "By taking your happy ass to the infirmary and be by your brother's side."

Hmmm... And she has a little spice in her. I like that in a woman. This chick is amazing.  I just might visit Michael after all.




HORRAY!  It's time for me to get off.  But first, I went to the infirmary to check up on Michael.  I go into his room and look who I see: it's Dewayne by his side.  Good start.  It sucks that Dewayne is in this prison at all because of someone else's stupidity.  Especially since that person was his brother.

"Hi there!" I said.

"Hey," says Dewayne.  He turns to his brother and said, "This is Appolonia.  Appolonia, Michael." 

Michael and I exchanged greetings.

Michael smiled, looked at Dewayne and said, "Hey, you're right, Dewayne.  She is fine as hell."

"Why, thank you," I laughed while blushing.

"How long you been working here?" Michael asked.

"Eight years," I answered.

He asked, "You got a man?"

"I have a husband," I answered, waving my $2K diamond wedding ring at them.

"Damn," Michael said.  "He got good taste.  In jewelry and women.  What does he do for a living? From the size of that rock on your finger that dude must be raking it in."

"He's the owner of Rising Sunshine."

Both Dewayne and Michael exchanged glances and exclaimed, "What the fuck!?"

Dewayne says, "You mean to tell me that you are married to the owner of a very successful brothel in Sin City?"

"Yes, I am," I replied, matter-of-factly.

"How do you deal with that?" Michael asked.

"A lot of people ask me that," I said, shrugging.  "It's not that bad.  Actually, it's pretty interesting."

"Doesn't surprise me that he's raking it in now. Pussy always been a best seller." We all laughed after Michael's comment.

I changed the subject.  "The reason I stopped by was to check up on you.  How are you doing?"

Michael nodded and replied, "I'm doing okay."

"I hope after this you won't sag anymore," I laughed.  Dewayne laughed as well.

"No way!  I learned my lesson," came the answer.

Dewayne said to Michael, "You had to almost get raped to start pulling your pants up?  Something I had been telling you since you were a knucklehead in high school?  Boy, you're stupid."  Michael gave a nervous laugh, and Dewayne chuckled, but at least they were laughing together.  It was nice to see them in the process of mending their brotherhood.

Michael turned to me and said, "Thanks for saving my life -- and my ass."

"Anytime, hon, anytime," I replied.  "Like I told your brother, I'll look after you two and take care of y'all."  I gave them a hug, and we said our goodbyes.

A few hours later...

I arrive home and smell Quienton's famous lasagna cooking in the oven.  I go in the living room to sit on the couch and watch Fairly Oddparents.  Quienton comes downstairs and sits by me, then hugs me, kisses me and starts rubbing my shoulders.  I sighed and told him about my day, also telling him about Dewayne and Michael.  I also told Quienton their reaction when I told them that I was the wife of a brothel-owner.

"Wow.  That's rough," said Quienton.  "It was a good thing you was there for Michael.  This Dewayne guy seems like a pretty cool and smart dude.  Just caught up in a fucked up situation."

"Yeah, and because of that, I want to do all that I can for them -- with a little help from our friend."

Quienton nodded and replied, "I know you will, baby.  If there is anything I can do, just let me know."

"Thanks, babe."  I sighed and asked, "How was your day?"

Quienton shrugged.  "I had to give two interviews."

"How did it go?"

"Well, both of the girls' head game was on point.  One of them wasn't flexible enough, but they both had good pussy."

Interviews for the Rising Sunshine were conducted personally by my husband.  The candidates were to have sex with him, so he could gauge how well they performed.  Sometimes, I would also be involved with the "interviews" to test their "down-for-anything" qualification.

We ate dinner, and it was delicious.  Quienton ran my bath water and bathed me.  That man knows how to pamper me!  After my bath, he gives me a full body massage.  While I'm laying on my stomach, he massages my back.

Suddenly, he slowly eases his dick in my pussy.  As he pumps himself in and out of me, he kisses my neck and grabs my tits underneath me.  This position and doggystyle are my favorites, because it makes me cum harder.  My pussy is tighter, and I can fully feel all of the dick... But that's just my sick theory.

After Quienton came, I felt all of his warm cum in my pussy, and it felt so good.  We fell asleep like this, with him still inside me.  Mmm... This way, I am going to wake up to Quienton's morning wood pounding me real good.  I'm going to go to work with a clear mind and a big smile on my face.




This morning, I find out that Michael, Johnny and I are all getting private cells with actual doors instead of bars.  This is great!  I really missed my privacy.  No more waiting until Johnny falls asleep to jack off. And what's more?  Michael will be out of the infirmary in a couple more days.

Today, I decided to visit him once more, and I was met with a very pleasant surprise.  "Good morning!  Are you hungry?" came Appolonia's voice. 

Before I could answer, she handed me a bag of Popeye's chicken.  I took the bag with much appreciation, and her, Michael and I proceeded to devouring the meal.

"You see?  I told you I would take care of you," Appolonia said as she was wiping her face with the napkin.  "By the way: how are you enjoying your private cell?"

Between bites, I replied, "It's straight... Wait.  How do you know about that?"  She didn't say anything.  She really didn't have to; she only gave an evil grin.  "Thank you," I breathed.

"You're quite welcome," she said.  She turned to Michael and added, "Don't worry.  You're getting one, too."

Michael swallowed quickly and gave a quick "thank you."

"I told Quienton about you two.  He sends his regards."  She glanced at the clock on the wall then began to walk away.  "I will check up on you later.  Gotta go."

"Wait a second," Michael says.  "Before you go, you mind me asking how old are you?"

Appolonia shook her head and said, "Not at all.  I'm thirty-six."

Wow, I think to myself, she has aged beautifully.  "Well, you are looking young and fabulous," I said.  "Since we are talking about ages, I'm thirty-nine, and Michael here is thirty-three."

"Quienton is the same age as you, Dewayne.  You look pretty young yourselves."  Again, she began to walk away.  "Well, I bid you adieu.  Bye-bye."  She blew a kiss at us and left.

Later in the day, Appolonia and I sit on a bench in the courtyard.  "Thanks girl.  That was the best meal I've had in a long, long time."

Appolonia replied, "Don't mention it. I need to stop eating like that. I’m suppose to be on a diet and try to lose this weight.” I gave her a crazy look after that comment and she noticed. “What?” she asked.

“I hate it when ya’ll say that -- good looking women with a nice body saying they need to lose weight. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m the first woman you’ve seen in five years. I can look like a wildebeest and you’ll still think I look good.”

“Not necessarilly. Even though I haven’t been around any women in five years, I still know a beautiful woman when I see one.”

“OK, OK. Thanks for the compliment.” She pointed behind me across the courtyard and said, "Oh, here comes Johnny."  I turned and saw him walking towards us.

"Morning, Dewayne," Johnny greeted.  He grabs Appolonia's hand and kisses it, saying, "And good morning to you, fair lady."

Appolonia blushed under her dark skin and replied, "You are such a charmer, Johnny!  How are things?"

Johnny takes a seat next to Appolonia and replies, "Good.  I'm enjoying my private cell, and my daughter Alicia is visiting today."

"That's good.  I can't wait to finally meet her."  It's now apparent to me that Appolonia and Johnny go way back, since her first day, she told me.  She knows all about Johnny and Alicia.  He is also the only other inmate, besides Michael and I, whom she is very cool with.

“I started visiting Michael, and I checked up on him again today,” I informed Johnny.

“Oh, that’s very good. You was so adament about not seeing him and patching things up. What made you come around?” Johnny asked.

“Appolonia here said that I should try to make amends or at least meet him half way. Especially now, since he’s in the infirmary recovering.”

“I see. All it took was a beautiful woman to say the exact same thing that I’ve been telling you for the past five years. All she had to do was say it once and you did it.”

“Well, what can I say? Good advice is a lot better coming from someone who looks like Appolonia than someone who looks like you. No offense.” I said.

“None taken. She is a looker.” Appolonia is just sitting there blushing up a storm. “Well, it’s like my father always said: 'Women -- especially beautiful women -- have more power than they think they do. When they know they have the power, you better watch out.'”

“True.” Appolonia nodded with a big grin. Now, she knows she has the power.

Johnny looked somewhat down, though.  "I was very thankful for being able to go to my wife's funeral six years back," he said.  "Even though I was shackled and cuffed."  He turned to me and explained, "She was shot during a robbery.  The fucked up part was that they wasn’t even aiming at her."  Appolonia grabbed his hand and held it tightly for support.  "Now, I have to give my daughter the bad news."

I wrinkled my brow and asked, "What bad news you talking about?"

"I didn't want anyone to know," he said.  He took a deep breath and finally said, "I'm dying.  Cancer.  I don't have that much time left." 

Upon those words, tears began to flow like rivers down Appolonia's cheeks.  Johnny turns to her, looking very annoyed with seeing her cry over his impending death, lightly tapping her on the arm.  "Girl, stop that!" he said.  "Don't you dare feel sorry or shed any tears for me!  I won't allow it!"

Appolonia wipes her tears and said, "But I'm sorry.  I'm really going to miss you.  What can we do?"

Johnny looked us dead in our eyes.  What he said next were very few in words, but powerful nonetheless: "Live your life; no regrets."  Upon saying this, he turned away and went to see his daughter.

I scratched my head and said, "Now what?"

"Well," Appolonia sighed and began digging in her pocket, "this might be a good time for this."  She suddenly pulled out a joint and held it out, as if giving it to me.

"What the hell," I breathed, stifling a smile.

"I won't say anything.  It will be like smoking by yourself... except the 'by yourself' part."  She took it out my hand, pulled a lighter from her pocket, lit it, and hit the joint hard.  She then let out the thick smoke and passed it to me.  I took it without hesitation and took a hit myself.  I think I'm going to like the benefits of having a guard for a friend...

Later that week...

I'm asleep in my private cell, happy that Michael is out of the infirmary and in his private cell.  As I was snoozing, the craziest thing happened.  I woke up in the middle of the night to a naked Appolonia sucking my dick.  Of course, I didn't make that much of an effort to stop her.  Two reasons: 1) She was good at it, fine as hell, and have a nice, thick, sexy body. (The uniform did little justice to her curves.)  And 2) No sex with a woman for five long years!

I regain my composure, stand her up and ask, "What are you doing?"

Appolonia said between breaths, "Don't worry!  Just enjoy yourself."

"But what about Quienton?" I asked.  I prefer not to be sexually active with a married woman, despite how long it has been since having sex at all.

"We have an open marriage," she replied matter-of-factly.

I raise my eyebrows in intrigue, but, other than that, I did not give it another thought.  I laid her on her back on my cot, grab the base of my dick, and slid it in her pussy.  It went in easy, sliding in quickly. She was really wet -- and tight.  It was so good.

After only a few minutes, I felt her pussy clench, and it got hotter and wetter suddenly.  "You coming?" I asked.  Her body began shaking, making it difficult to answer my question.  I guess she did answer -- or, rather, her body answered for her.  I managed to angle down and suck those huge tits of hers.  They looked DD, if I’m right...

I stopped and pulled out of her, the cool AC air becoming somewhat of a shock after being in somewhere warm for so long.  I turned her over, so I can hit it from the back.  As I am ramming her, I'm grabbing and lightly tapping her ass, attempting to stay quiet.  It was a lovely ass, too: juicy, huge and thick... Just the way I like my favorite part of a woman’s body.

I can tell she was enjoying it; she was moaning like crazy!  I was trying so hard to keep her quiet, even going so far as covering her mouth, but she kept telling me not to worry about it.  Strangely enough, a guard walks by, passes the cell, and keeps moving, as if nothing was happening.

We turn over again, and I feel myself reaching that point of no return.  I attempt to pull out, but she held onto me tightly.  "No!  I want it all!" she whispered loudly.  It was too late anyway.  Since I was already inside her, I went ahead and pushed it deep in her.  My orgasm was so intense and so hard; it was a huge nut!  It felt so good...  For a long minute, I felt myself pumping thick cum inside her.  It was my first nut in several weeks.

When I finally felt myself finish, I shuttered somewhat and pulled my now-limp dick out of her.  Some of my cum followed, flowing almost like a river out onto my cot.  Wet spot!  I breathed, "Did my brother receive this same treatment?"

Appolonia shuttered a little and replied between breaths, "Yes.  I just left his cell."  I feel a little soiled now... She began to quickly get dressed, using a corner of my sheet to clean her leaking pussy.  "Except coming in me.  I only let 'special' people do that." 

She winked at me and turned around toward the door.  She tapped on the door twice.  A guard let he out, and she disappeared into the dark hallway.

I'm left alone in my cell, happy but confused.  Happy, because I just go some pussy from a very sexy woman.  Confused, because I'm figuring out that this chick is getting away with way too much.  I have a few questions the next time I see her, and she will answer them, if I have a say in the matter.




Sitting in the courtyard of the prison, I’m taking my break.  The air feels good.  The breeze is blowing through my hair and whistling in my ears.  Mmm. Those brothers have some really good dick, especially Dewayne.  I’m kind of sore right now.  He really wore me out.  I close my eyes and imagine that night, and I start getting excited just thinking about it.  His cum felt so good inside me… Now, that dude knows how to please a woman!

"Appolonia!"  I heard my name, and it brought me back to reality.  I recognized the voice, so I didn’t bother to move.

"Dewayne, Michael," I greeted.  "I know you're here to interrogate me. Go ahead."

Michael began, "First of all, your pussy was so good!  And the way you sucked my dick, and licked my...!"

"Yeah!  Yeah!  Great pussy.  We get it," Dewayne interrupted.  "I've been noticing that you're pulling a lot strings and getting away with a lot of things.  Now, don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining, but how is that?  I'm not trying to get set-up or anything."

I sighed, "I understand your concerns." I take a pause, sported a fake smile, and asked Dewayne, "You're not going to let me leave until I answer your questions, are you?"

"Fuck no," Dewayne replied with a fake smile, shaking his head.

I stood up from the bench I was sitting on and dusted my pants off.  While stretching, I explained, "I’m able to do all of these 'special' things, because... Oh, what can I say? I'm just that brilliant." After a short pause, I added, "And, oh yeah: I'm fucking the warden as well."  From the looks they gave me, I see I would have to explain why a gorgeous, young black woman like me is doing giving up my great fantastic pussy to a fifty-six-year-old white man.

Warden Forrester has been the warden over Ryden for almost twenty years.  He is also a regular at Rising Sunshine.  He is very cool with Quienton.  Two weeks before I started day shift, he stopped by for a visit.  He saw me kiss Quienton and was shocked to learn that I was his wife.  He said if I needed or wanted anything at all, all I had to do is ask.  I asked to be on day shift, and he approved without question. I asked him if there was anything I could do to thank him.  He declined.  I reached down into his pants and grabbed his dick, whispering, "I insist."  He got the hint.  He knew that Quienton and I had an open marriage. 

Next thing I know, we are in one of the rooms, and he is eating my pussy like it was his last meal.  He then bends me over the bed and fucks me doggystyle.  Believe it or not, this old guy is a great lover.  He is in great shape, looks like an older version of Brad Pitt, and needs no Viagra.  Either he is a natural, or my husband's "employees" taught him some things.

Forrester turns me around and lifts me in the air.  I sit on his dick, and we continue our fuck fest.  Afterwards, I get off his dick and just start sucking until he came in my mouth.  I sucked him dry.

So, to make a long story short, Forrester does things for Dewayne, Michael, and me, as well as the other guards.  Yes, my co-workers at the prison also helped out, but I've never fucked them.  They think of me more like a sister than anything else.  Or step-sister, I think?  Anyway, they enjoy the perks my pussy brings.  Forrester makes life grand for us, and, in return, I fuck him on the regular.  Which is fine by me, since I enjoy the sex anyway.




"Can I ask you something?"  After Appolonia finished her explanation, Michael was the first to speak.

Appolonia folded her arms and nodded.  "Sure.  What is it?"

He asked, "Does Quienton know that he is married to a complete whore?" And he came out with it with no care of what the reaction would be.  I was completely shocked myself, but I shared the same thoughts.  But really: you shouldn't just ask questions like that to someone who giving you perks in prison!  That's like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Appolonia seemed to be unaffected by the question, seeming to be unoffended at all.  She smiled -- an evil grin, might I add -- and her answer shocked me for a long time.  She replied, "Of course he knows that, sweetie! That's one of the reasons he married me."

Michael and I exchanged nervous glances as Appolonia continued, "I bet you're wondering how a complete whore like me managed to land a good husband." I chuckled nervously; the thought had crossed my mind. How the fuck did that happen?  "As you already know, our marriage is open, and we're happy.  Despite my 'out there' sex life, I'm still considered 'take-home-to-mom material,' because I have more to offer than just sex."  She began counting on her fingers as she continued, "I'm smart, hard-working, discreet... It just takes the right man to figure that out.  Fortunately for me, I did."  Wow.  She really broke it down.

Later that day...

Before Appolonia got off from work her, Michael and I went to see Johnny in the infirmary.  He had collapsed earlier in the courtyard, and his daughter Alicia was notified.  When we met her, she greeted us like we were old friends.  It was because Johnny talked about us a lot.  Johnny showed me pictures of her once during her younger years, and, at forty-six, she is still a real beauty.

Johnny had trouble breathing, but he seemed determined to speak anyway.  "I don't have that much time left," he said.  "I want to have a chance to say goodbye to all of you.  You four are so important to me."  He turned to Alicia.  "Baby, I'm so sorry I missed out on your life.  I just wanted to protect you.  Please, forgive me."

"I understand why you did it," Alicia said.  "You don't have to apologize.  I love you, Daddy."  She kissed him on the cheek.

Johnny turned to face Michael and me.  "I'm happy you two finally made up.  You're family, and family should stick together no matter what."  Neither of us said anything to comment.

Johnny somehow managed the strength to grab Appolonia's hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it.  "Thank you, fair lady, for making my last moments on earth really special."

"You're welcome."  Appolonia kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you for everything."

"Now, to all of you: Live your life; no regrets."  It was quiet after that.  No one was even heard breathing.  But then, the loud beeping noise was heard.  Johnny flatlined, and he was pronounced dead a few minutes later.

Sigh.  I already have a good feeling how Appolonia made his last days nice and special.  If I had a choice how I want to spend my last moments, it would be either getting pussy from a beautiful woman, and/or having my family around me.  Johnny got both also in addition to his daughter, the three people closest to him was around him also.

I pulled Appolonia to the side and said, "I know he really enjoyed himself."

"I did, too," said Appolonia.  "I just wanted to do something special for him.  He's a good man and a great father.  Alicia is very lucky to have a father who will do anything to protect her.  Some of us aren't as fortunate." 

She suddenly rushed passed me and went into the nearby bathroom.  I cracked the door and saw her crying.  She saw me and tried in vain to regain her composure, wiping her tears quickly. 

"Too late; I saw it," I said.  "Now, what caused it?"

Appolonia shook her head and said, "I can't tell you.  It's very shameful."

"I thought we were friends?  You can tell me anything.  You trust me, don't you?"

Appolonia stinted and thought a moment.  "I'll come through tonight," she whispered, "but no promises."  She pushed passed me through the double doors and disappeared into the hall.

I looked to see Johnny's body being taken to the morgue.  Michael and Alicia were conversing, Alicia in tears.  I sighed heavily and walked away.  There was no need to be here any longer.

Later that night...

Appolonia and I are fucking in my cell.  After we finish, she lays there silently in her own thoughts.  I put my arm around her and ask, "What's wrong?"

Appolonia sighed.  "Remember what I said before I left?  About Alicia being lucky to have a father to protect her?"


"I'm ready to talk."

I sat up a little, intent on listening.  "Take your time," I said.

"I will."




My father abandoned my mom the second she told him that she was pregnant.  It was just my mom and me.  We struggled, but we did okay.  When I was nine, she started going out with AJ.  He was pretty nice, and, a year later, he moves in.

Once, when I was twelve, I noticed that Mom and AJ were arguing a lot.  I came home from school one day and went up to my room, only to find AJ sitting on my bed.  It was as if he was waiting on me to show up.  I thought nothing of it and spoke, dropping my bookbag on the floor.  I was about to go back downstairs to watch TV, but AJ grabbed my arm.  He said he wanted to talk to me.

I sat next to him on the bed and said, "Okay.  What's up?"  He started talking about how beautiful I had grown, something about the arguments between him and Mom, and that he noticed that I developed early, that I was becoming a very sexy and irresistible young woman, who is a spitting image of my mother, with my nice C cup tits (I jumped to a DD in the middle of my college years) and this gorgeous thick juicy ass of mine. I was beginning to grow extremely uncomfortable, and began to ease away from him.

AJ suddenly grabs me and kisses me really rough, saying, "I need some."

"What?" I gasped, trying to get away.  He pushed me back on the bed and lifts my dress. 

At this point, I am fighting and screaming, but he put his hands around my throat, choking me.  I can't breathe, but I can hear him say, "Shut up, relax and like it!"  He rips off my panties, keeping one hand around my neck.  He forces his dick into me, and it felt like someone was ripping me apart.

Two hours I suffered.  Two hours I endured him stabbing into me.  He finally gets off me, and growls, "Get in that bathroom and wash up and look good before your mom gets home."  I'm still hurting; I can't move.  Being annoyed that I was not moving fast enough according to him he snatches me up and throws me toward the bathroom, not caring how much I'm bleeding and how much I was in pain. 

"If you say anything to her, I'll kill you both," I heard him say.  Those words resonated in my ears.  I was so afraid to say anything.  If he was cruel enough to do this to me, what would keep him from really killing me?  I couldn't say anything... I just couldn't.

Three years is a long time to endure such a thing.  I would wish this on no one.  Until I was fifteen, I was raped everyday after school.  And my mother never even seemed to notice...

One day, I was walking with my lab partner Andre.  We were best friends for a long time, and we still are.  He also lived in the neighborhood; Mom even said he was nice.  We were discussing our science project on the way home. He also bought us tickets to see Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg in concert, which was going to be held this summer, and he gave me my ticket.  When we finally got to my doorstep, I dreaded going in.  I saw AJ in the window motioning for me to hurry up.  Andre could tell something was wrong, but he didn't know what.  He had to leave...  And he left...

I opened the door, and the first thing I saw was a fist.  I hit the floor, hard.  It was the hardest he had ever hit me.  I don't know what exactly was said, but I remembered AJ screaming about giving his pussy away.  Something in me suddenly snapped.  I couldn't take it anymore.

I laughed hysterically, "You're tripping, AJ.  Andre is a lab partner, my best friend and an OPEN HOMOSEXUAL!  Get the fuck out my way.  I don't feel like fucking with you today.  Go fuck yourself for a change!"

"Lying bitch!" AJ shouted, and he hit me closed-fist again.  "He has a dick, so he wants that pussy! Besides, a whore like you would probably fuck that little faggot to try to straighten him out. With that good pussy of yours, you just might succeed."

"You stupid motherfucker," I shouted, spitting blood on the floor.  "The whole neighborhood knows.  Even Mom knows. He even has a boyfriend named Oliver."  I stood up and leaned against the wall, somewhat winded.  "And if you hit me again, I'm telling her everything.  Matter of fact, I think I'll tell her anyway.  Have fun explaining why her child has a black eye, and why there is blood on the floor."

When he tried to hit me again, I ducked under it and kneed him as hard as I could.  I broke free and ran upstairs.  I must not have kneed him hard enough, because he managed to grab my leg and pulled me back down.  He was far stronger than me physically, so it didn't take much to hold me down.  "Bitch!  Who the fuck you talking to like that?"

I spit blood in his face and yelled, "You!  You nasty, perverted, child-raping motherfucker!"

AJ punched me again after that comment.  He dragged me by my legs the rest of the way up the stairs, struggling with the little strength I had left.  I was beaten pretty badly.  I no longer had the strength to struggle anymore.

"Now, you are keeping quiet," AJ breathed.  "You understand, my sassing little slut.  If anybody asks, you fell.  You understand that shit, bitch?" Oh really? The oldest abuse cover-up lie in the book? Like anyone is going to believe that shit.  Can you be a tad bit more original than that AJ? I’m actually disappointed in you. Are you for real? Boo boo.

I was out of breath, but I managed to choke out, "Fuck you."  It must have made him mad, because he veered back for this vicious right hook he gave me.  I was teetering between consciousness and coma, but it mattered little.  He pounced on top of me, and ripped all of my clothes off like a ravenous beast.

Before he started raping me, AJ said as he started taking off his clothes, "I see this is the only thing a whoring little cunt like you understands."  I couldn't fight him off, and he made especially sure it really hurt more than any other time.  "You're the best lover I ever had. This is some great pussy. It’s better than you mother’s." He had the nerve to say those things to me.  I was sick to my stomach hearing this, but I was too weak, too much in pain, to do anything but gag.

During the brutal rape, I no longer cared.  To me, this battle was mine.  I stood up to him, that sick bastard.  To be honest, I wanted to provoke him, so he can leave as many bruises as possible, so I can get proof for the authorities.  Enough was enough, and I let him know I wasn't taking it anymore.

After he came, he got up and kicked me in my ribs, saying, "I hope you learned your lesson."  I turned over, and blood was practically pouring from my pussy.  I struggled to get up and I actually did. I just burst out laughing. AJ yelled, "What the fuck are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing at what a pathetic sick bastard you are." I got in his face, struggling to remain standing. "And the sad part is," I coughed, "no matter how many times you beat and rape me, you will never be nothing but a weak ass, pussy punk bit....." before I could finish my insult his right cross knocked me out and everything went black. He quickly got dressed and left me there to die. I woke up in the hospital. It turned out that I had been in a coma for three days.

Andre had come back, because he had forgotten to return my book.  The door was unlocked, and he saw my bloody, bruised and naked body.  He called the ambulance, police and my mom at work.

When I woke, my mother was crying over me.  I weakly told her what AJ did to me, and for how long it had been going on.  When I told her, she sobbed and kept apologizing for not finding out sooner.  She kept saying that she wished she had paid more attention to me, that she wished she had kicked AJ out a long time ago.

The doctor informed us that I had suffered a miscarriage.  It turns out I was seven months pregnant with my mom's boyfriend's baby, my rapist, at the tender age of fifteen. Well, that explains the weight gain. In addition, because of the brutal rapes -- especially the final rape -- my uterus was so damaged that I was forced to have a hysterectomy, killing any chance of me bearing children of my own.  My innocence was stolen; my future children erased.  I did not see anymore reason to live...

Andre was very supportive during those difficult times and the times after, staying with me.  He was like a big brother and big sister wrapped into one.  He became protective of me, but we also talked and did things that only sisters would do.  As I recovered, we talked about fashion, men, sex and other stuff.  We shopped together; he even did my hair, and he was very good at it. I saved a lot of money by not going to the beauty salon.

My mom, however, did not recover so well, and she went into a deep depression, turning to the bottle.  It had become so bad that I spent more time with Andre's family than my own.  I focused on my schoolwork, joined after-school programs, and I became involved in extra-curricular activities, simply because I didn't want to see my mom drink her life away.

Later, I had earned a full-ride scholarship at FAMU and was in the top 10 of my high school graduating class.  My high school graduation was the happiest day of my life... until my mom showed up drunk.  Security had to drag her out, because of her rants.  It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.  She couldn't even stay sober long enough to celebrate one of the most important days of my life, humiliating me in front of the entire senior class.

I went home to confront her.  "How could you do this to me?" I yelled.  "How could you embarrass me like that?"

It was like yelling at a wall.  Mom gave me a blank stare, then struggled to stand, still clutching that damned bottle of vodka in her left hand.  "You still blame me!  I know it!" she cried.  "I'm sorry!" she kept apologizing.  She had been apologizing since I was in the hospital.  "I couldn't be at work and here at the same time!  I had bills to pay."

I was confused.  I didn't know that she still felt that way after all this time.  "No, I didn't!" I screamed.  "That's crazy!  I never blamed you for that!  You need help.  Your drinking embarrassed me!  That's what I'm blaming you for!"

Mom sniffed.  "You think I'm an embarrassment?"

I placed both hands on my head, trying hard to no avail to maintain my temper.  "Yes!  When you're drunk!" I answered.

Mom took another swig of the bottle and shouted with a drunken stupor, "I was embarrassed having a pervert boyfriend and my daughter pregnant at fifteen because of it!"

I lost it.  That comment had struck a nerve, and it was the last one.  I had embarrassed her?  I was the one going through that hell for three years, and now I have to deal with a mother who practically blamed me for it?  I became so mad that I snatched the bottle from her hand and threw it across the room.  It smashed against the wall, but before it had even gotten that far, my hands had grabbed Mom's shoulders, shaking her violently.  "Look at me!" I screamed.  "I love you!  I never blamed you!  But you have a problem, which is becoming MY problem now!  You shamed me when you drunk your life away, and as long as you’re like this..."  I let her go, and shook my head.  "As long as you're like this," I continued, "I want nothing to do with you."

I went upstairs, packed my bags with the few possessions I owned, and moved to Tallahassee. I stayed at a boarding house all the way through college. Two months after that day, Andre called me and told me that Mom had killed herself.  She ran into rush hour traffic in one of her drunken stupors.

I made the t

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