I couldn't help it, I just had to yawn again it's all of six in the morning. I suppose most would be used to getting up that early, though when you are getting up at seven every day for the last ten years, earlier is hard. The guards laugh and tell me yet again they could put me back to bed if I prefer.
My free girl clothes in hand, the guards referring to them that way of course I make my way into the changing room followed of course by one of the guards. Taking small comfort in it not being that perverted greasy haired Stephen I turn my back to her and pull the obnoxious orange jumpsuit from me. Followed shortly afterward by the dirty grey bra and panties provided for me by the prison.
"Here, I know you feel dirty so may as well clean the dirt of this prison from you." The guard says as she hands me a wet bath sponge, her hand caressing then squeezing my left cheek.
"Susan you know how I feel about sex with women, but tell you what, if I end up in here again you can give me conjugal visits, perhaps that sicko grease ball would leave me alone then." I say as my body trembles at her touch and the cold water of the sponge as I begin to clean myself.
"Probably wouldn't help, I had to deck him a couple times before he sorta leaves me alone. I talked to the warden about him, he can't transfer him, no one will have him and the man is related to the director. Try not to come back is the best I can say, if you do though I am so holding you to the conjugal promise."
She sighs as she takes a seat and watches me clean myself, the cold water making my nipples stick out, the water cascading over my body highlighting the tattoo's and scars. Being ever the tease I turn so the light splashes on me causing my wet nipples to shine, butt sticks out a little and my hand slows down, paying special attention to breasts and pussy.
Now clean but very wet and a little chilled I turn and toss the sponge in the bucket before I am folded into a towel. I look over at Susan as her lips meet mine, her arms wrapping around me and holding me close. At first I resist, but in the end I let her kiss me, her soft little tongue worming it's way into my mouth. I feel a tingle running up and down my back, my toes curling a teensy little bit even. When the kiss ends she steps back and we both catch our breath, a faint smile creasing her lips as she looks at me.
"Maybe I shouldn't have done that, might give you an incentive to come back."
"Probably not but I gotta think about it, sent chills down my back, though I can't think of anything but sex right now. I'll let you know." I say winking at her as I dry myself off.
Anything else she may have wanted to say is cut off with banging on the door and Stephen yelling out that if we take much longer he's going to come in and watch. With a shiver I grab up my clothes and start getting dressed, Susan sits down again laughing. She quiets down and watches as I pull my stockings up my legs, careful to include a slow roll of the hips and alternate between hiding my pussy and flashing it to her. She groans as I turn my back to her, bend at the waist then pull the thong slowly up my legs and in place.
With the garter in place and clipped to my stockings I pull the teeny dress into a crumpled mass before raising it high and letting it fall mostly into place, with a few adjustments both breasts are somewhat covered and Susan is practically drooling.
"I still can't believe you actually wore that dress to trial, leaning forward must expose all of you to view."
"Well the juror number 4 I think was a most delectable specimen of man I wanted to see if maybe he would be interested. He wasn't but he sure stared hard, mores the pity I could have used some hot man loving in here."
Purse in hand we move to the door then go down another interminable corridor with Stephen staring at my ass the entire way. They leave me sitting in front of a desk, though Susan stays behind a moment longer to hand me her number. I sit there fiddling with my purse I don't know how long before another guard enters and sits before me. He drones on for some time with some nonsense of my rehabilitation, the terms of my release a number of times even mentioning the fact that I am released on parole and breaking that will have me back in prison for the entirety of my sentence along with any added time. Finally he tells me to remember what he said and puts a paper in front of me with a pen, for my signature.
As I am then led by the new guard to the gates he hands me a folder with all of the things I need to know, along with the name and address of my case worker. I have to stop and retrieve a piece of paper that falls free, on it is a name and number.
'So is this your number?" I ask him quizzically.
"Oh no I am a married man, quite happily I am happy to say. No that number is my sons he isn't married and made me promise to give it to you." He answers turning at least four shades of red.
"Tell me about him, it's not like a felon can get a good paying job, I may as well explore homemaker."
"Well to be honest you probably won't like him, he worked as an IT man for a few years but is back in school to learn game design."
"Oh shush, I like games, my brother had an arcade he would swear I spent more time in there than anywhere else besides playing our Nintendo. In fact I think the first thing I buy will be one of those Xbox's. Besides you didn't tell me much, what are his eating preferences does he drink, well actually forget all that what is he like?"
"Well he is always polite, played games endlessly it seemed as a kid, a lot like you I guess, has a mind for these new fangled computers. He says that he turned down several lucrative offers to go back to college so I suppose he was good at it. It's all Greek to me he loses me every time he starts talking about scripts and operating systems." He tells me face lighting up, pride for his son evident all over his face.
"He sounds wonderful to me it would be good to have intelligent conversation, most of the gals in here and a few of the guards are rather lacking upstairs. I'll be sure and call him soon as I get settled in somewhere. Tell your son I will call in a couple days at most." I say as I grab onto his arm and pull myself up to kiss him on the cheek.
He turns at least eight shades of red as he reaches for the door and opens it to the gate. The warden is standing there along with a number of guards, the stern look on his face making me think my parole was a joke. I guess the look on my face told him my fears because he strides over to me, his face softening with a smile.
"Don't worry Miss Smith, you are being released now, we are here to make sure you can get into the taxi. There are a number of reporters outside and the police didn't send any officers."
"Oh please, you are here to get some TV time and look like a good warden you know perfectly well I wouldn't have problems getting to a taxi. Though I am curious, why do I get a taxi?"
"Guilty as charged, I guess it is good we are in a prison. You are getting a taxi because the bus is having engine troubles and there is not a spare to run out here. The taxi is paid for already, in part by me and in part by your case worker she is rather excited to meet you. Personally I'm glad you are leaving, you are making my guards look bad they either drool all over themselves at you or try their hardest to be on your ward. Apologies for Stephen but well I knew he would drool at you and leave the rest of the women alone."
"He actually made prison bearable to be honest his constant attention let me forget where I was. Let's be on with this, I have to see a parole officer, a cemetery and see if I can find an apartment."
He opens his mouth to say something, shuts it, opens it again then shuts it and with a smile takes my arm and leads me to the gate. With a wave of his hand skyward the gate begins opening. There is a great ruckus outside, some lights start shining through the widening gap of the gate as it opens, some shouting and a little jostling can be heard. As the gate opens wider the guards move forward to go out first, the wardens hand on my arm holding me in place.
When the gate finally opens all the way the reporters are herded to either side, leaving a rather wide path between, just off the road I can see a yellow taxi sitting there, the driver leaning out the window watching the chaos with a wry smile. The warden pulls his hand from my arm and guides me out into the corridor the guards formed toward the left side. He pulls away from me after whispering in my ear to talk to these leeches for a minute and goes to the right side.
Before I have a chance to hear a question or formulate anything to say several microphones are shoved in my face followed by a barrage of shouted questions. The lights on the video cameras blinding me so bad I can't even figure out where the questions are coming from.
"Stop, ask your questions when you are called on or I'm not answering any questions and you can simply record me leaving." I scream at them in disgust.
The guards laugh as the reporters pull back the microphones stick their hand in the air and dance around like little kids with the answer to the question or needing to go to the bathroom. I look around for a second before spotting her, a small little woman like myself, half shoved in the back by the taller ladies and the men. I point to her and smile as she excitedly shoves her way forward with the tallest cameraman of all of them.
"Thank you Ms. Smith, I am sure all of us are wondering what your plans are now that you are free, paroled or not you must be biting at the bit to find the people who killed your brother." She says somehow finding the nerve to compose herself before shoving the microphone in my face.
"That is an excellent question. To be frank I would love to find these persons and exact revenge in every ounce of their bodies, twice. However I have no desire to return to this prison or any prison unless I am visiting a friend so I shall leave it to the police to find the persons responsible. I have every confidence in their abilities they did manage to catch me after all, the persons who killed my brother stand no chance."
There is some laughter then one of the tall ladies yells out a question relating to finding the killers. I don't answer her I simply stare at her for a second, recognizing her as one of the reporters at my trial who kept interrupting it.
"Since you have no class I am not answering any of your questions, stand here and record what I say or go away I care not one whit. Open your mouth again and I'll tell you exactly what I think of your talents and they do not appear in front of the camera. Now I shall take a question from you." I snap at her before turning to a tall blonde man.
