Prison Gang Bang

PART ONE:

In an alternate universe, Nate's charges weren't dropped. His lawyer advised him to stop fighting and take the plea.

In that alternate universe, Nate reported to prison to serve out his two-year term (carefully negotiated, the sentence was much lower than it could have been and his taking it avoided the risk of a jury proving him guilty and sending him away for decades).

In that alternate universe, Nate arrived at the jail with nothing but the clothes on his back. He was strip-searched and made to remove every single article of clothing that he had on.

It was humiliating. Depressing. Awful and unfair.

It was his birthday, but it didn't much feel like one.

But Nate was Nate. Hyperactive, excitable, energetic and always five steps ahead of the crowd.

He knew he'd get his birthday present. He just had to be patient.

The other inmates didn't understand his bemused smile and his air of calm acceptance as the guards escorted him to his new digs.

Life in jail is monotonous. That's the punishment: The tedium. But the boredom is preferable to the alternative, because that's the flip side of jail: the constant danger. Nate experienced both, his first day there.

His cell was tiny. The toilet was embarrassing. And there was absolutely, positively, nothing to do. He spent his first hours sitting on the tiny cot that was the only place in the world now that was somewhat his. He sat on that cot, staring at the wall, waiting for the hours to pass.

And yet. The other guys saw Nate and thought that he might be something to do. Lascivious glances, lewd comments, Nate found himself surrounded at the cafeteria table when he went to have his first ever dinner in jail.

"What's your name?" Asked an enormous black man who had decided to start caressing Nate's inner thigh.

"Nate."

"I'm Sam. Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you in here." He winked at the crew-cut guy across the table, and crew-cut looked Nate up and down and nodded.

"Yeah, he'll do. Tonight? Airtight? We'll welcome you to prison, Nate."

All the guys at the table started laughing, and Nate just sat there, pretending he couldn't understand the innuendo, acting like Sam's hand hadn't just reached the top of his inner thigh to start cradling his balls. Nate did his best impression of a care-free guy who isn't supposed to be used as gang-bang fodder on his first night ever in prison.

"C'mon Nate, why so quiet? We'd think you wanted to thank us for our welcome, you goddamn son of a bitch."

The guy sitting on Nate's other side, a scrawny white guy who was completely bald, boxed Nate in the head when the guards weren't looking.

"Yeah Nate, thank us," insisted bald guy. His fingers started creeping where they weren't supposed to, too.

Before Nate could even respond, someone else had toppled him out of his chair onto the cafeteria floor. They were on top of him, hitting him, grabbing at him, pummeling him, and the guards were nowhere to be fucking found.

Nate kept his calm. Even with all their fucking toying with him, he just waited. But he wasn't gonna wait much longer. Before anyone could land a punch to his face, he spoke up for the first time since telling them his name.

"You fucking assholes, you better stop right now or you're gonna miss the night of your life."

The guys were so startled that they stopped, fists in mid-air, waiting.

The thing is, life is always a game of follow-the-leader. And when it came to gangbangs, Nate was your guy. The other ones were just fucking lemmings and they never knew what was coming.

Quietly, with all eyes on him, Nate said, "You stupid creeps have two options tonight. Yeah, you can pound me. I know I can't stand up to all you fuckers. But if you do that, you miss out on what will probably the best goddamn gang-bang you've ever had. Oh and one of you better smuggle a bowl out of here if you want to be able to have a good time."

And with that, he picked up his tray, returned the dishes and the utensils, and headed back to his cell. The other guys stood there, standing around, scratching their heads and wondering who the fuck this newbie was and what he meant.

PART TWO

Here's the thing. I had followed him to the jail. He didn't see me but I'm pretty sure he knew I would be coming. I saw his non-chalance in the face of doom and I like to think I had something to do with it.

While Nate was getting messed with in the mess hall, I was flirting my way into the guard room, with that seductive innocence that makes most lesser men bend to your will. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes and press my tits close to his face. Well, the blowjob was actually kind of crucial too. That plus the cell phone picture of the guy, fully uniformed, getting blown. At his desk. On the job. Against all rules and regulations. Then came my sweetly veiled threat of job loss, and that was all it took! His extra guard's uniform was mine. He was even sweet enough to make sure the halls were clear so I could let myself in.

I cinched the uniform in all the right places. It hugged my tits and clung to my ass. I could feel the sex dripping off of me, and I think the whole jail could smell it. It's probably why those guys got so horny in the first place, because seriously. Nate is fine, or course, but wouldn't they rather fuck me?

I stayed in the shadows all through that day and waited for lights out. It's an enormous prison and guards come and go, so the one time a guard did notice me I just nodded and he nodded right back. For all he knew I was a substitute sent over from county for the day.

I wasn't bored, though. I was horny with anticipation, pussy juices dripping down through my panties onto my newly-acquired guard-whore uniform. I was going to get obliterated tonight and I couldn't fucking wait.

PART THREE

"Slut, you out there?" Nate whisper-hissed to me through the dark of lights-out. In response I took out my set of keys and I slipped into his cell. There was one barred window, high up, and the distant city lights provided dim illumination. He took one look at me and grinned. "You filthy fucking whore!" He said to me and my pussy turned into a faucet. "You won't be needing this anymore..." his hands were all over me, now, ripping off my uniform and tossing it aside. The only thing left was a collar and leash I had worn beneath my clothes, and the shock wand I had smuggled past the guard. I handed it to Nate and got on my knees at his command.

"Let's inspect you, you dirty slut." I stayed quite still as his fingers groped me, prodded me, inserted into all of my holes, opening me up. When he saw how wet I was already he grinned again and smacked me with a hand full of my own juices. He smacked my face a second time, just to even it out. My whole body stood at attention, nipples erect, muscles stiff, goosebumps covering me from head to toe. I knew what was coming and I was filled with delicious, terrifying anticipation.

Before anyone could even try to get Nate, they were getting me instead. Naked except for the collar and leash, I slunk into the cells one by one, all of us piling back into Nate's, until I was surrounded by 15 horny inmates.

"Do any of you assholes have a bowl?" Asked Nate. Crew-cut immediately produced a large salad bowl and Nate nodded approvingly. "Right then, you get first dibs on the whore. Slut, you know what to do."

I did know what to do. I crawled across the cell on my hands and knees, giving a generous view of my ass and cunt to the inmates sitting behind me. When I got to crew-cut I took his already-bulging cock in my hands and started stroking it. "You better do a good job. He better be ready to blow quick, slut," hissed Nate. He brandished the shock device at me menacingly and I immediately brought my mouth to the cock, shoving it all the way down my own throat, gagging and drooling over him. The man above me groaned and grabbed my hair with his hands, violently forcing me on him.

When he came it was prolific, and I held the bowl between my hands underneath his throbbing cock, oozing cum into the bowl until I had caught every last drop.

Nate shocked me for a job well done and I had to muffle my shrieks. I could feel the prisoners' eyes on me, hungry, ready to use, abuse and devour me.

This was a rowdy bunch and their circle didn't stay a circle for long. Nate started orchestrating the chaos, allowing four or five of them to descend on me at a time, having his way with me too. My throat grew raw and I started to lose count of the men I had pleasured. My ass was sore from being fondled as I blew them. Fingers invaded my asshole and my pussy without mercy, and the bowl got heavier and heavier from all the cum.

When they tired of fingering me they switched to the shocker, and if a guy didn't cum within thirty seconds of me starting him, I was punished harshly. I could smell the burnt skin and could feel my eyes tearing, trying to suppress my howls of pain. Yet still my pussy continued to leak like a broken faucet.

I had to beg, then. Pleading the men to give me their cock, to give me their cum, opening my mouth so that they would spit straight into it until spittle dripped down my face, my carefully applied makeup destroyed, my hair knotted, my body bruised and battered. Still I begged for their cum and thanked them at each turn.

Their cocks were everywhere. In my mouth, up my holes, in my hands. Nate pinched and smacked me, whispering obscenities in my ear, and all of them called me a filthy slut and a rotten whore, amazed that newbie inmate had orchestrated such a to-do.

Finally I reached number 15: Nate himself. He was the most violent of all, tearing his nails into my skin, pulling my hair from the roots and choking me over and over and over until his entire body tensed and he let out a tremendous groan, cumming first into my mouth and then into the bowl, my face smeared with his seed.

After he had recovered, he announced that I was to put on a show.

It took me a while to move. I felt so beaten and bruised I wasn't even sure that I could. But them men wouldn't let me be done, least of all Nate.

And so, obediently, I moved to the center of the new make-shift circle, all the guys with their receding dicks still hungry for my performance.

I took the bowl and dipped my fingers into it, bringing up a handful of cum. I managed to let out a sigh of contentment, smearing it on my face, rubbing in into my hair and my tits. I spread my legs wide and poured some more cum on my bald pussy, rubbing my cunt with my hands, moaning in inadvertent pleasure. The men shifted to see my pussy and a few of them reached out to smack me while I performed.

I bathed in the cum, swimming in it, covering myself, and then, finally, scooping it off of my body and down my throat until it was all I could taste. I drank cup after cup of it, gagging and choking, but drinking it until nothing was left in the bowl and the only cum I hadn't ingested was the stuff that was slowly hardening onto my bruised and naked body.

And that's when Nate, the king of gangbangs, took hold of my leash as if to quell any remaining notion of control that I may have, and he invited them to release on me.

I became their toilet, the warm piss hitting my body and turning to steam, cleaning me of semen and replacing that with urine, in my hair, my mouth, my eyes, my pussy.

I was a used and abused and rotten little toilet. Their gang-bang whore.

Nate allowed me to have my reward, then, playing with me, teasing me, bringing me to orgasm so many times that that, too, started to become painful.

And then, as the sun began to rise over the prison barricades covered in barbed wire and broken glass, Nate told the guys that the party was over. Bleary-eyed and sex-comaed, they retreated to their cells.

And me? Well, I stayed. The guys traded Nate for me. Under cover of dawn, he snuck out in the same uniform that had smuggled me in, and the guards didn't care. They'd be invited to the next gang-bang, and Nate's sentence would be served out by me.

THE END