Clayton Smithers sat in his jail cell wishing to God he had never tried the scam. At first it had worked fine; the diploma mill had sold him the diploma and arranged what looked like good references, even responding with glowing letters of praise if anybody ever asked about the qualifications of Doctor Clayton Smithers. It had been a sweet deal with money coming in and all kinds of sexy women patients to fuck but it had come to a sudden end. The FBI had busted the diploma mill and tracked down the "graduates" who had been using the diplomas the same way as Clayton had, to swindle and otherwise take advantage of suckers.
Now he was charged with multiple counts of rape and fraud and his female victims were so outraged they had testified at his hearing and had even given permission for videotapes of them to be used as evidence. Clayton had foolishly taped himself and the women having sex while they were under hypnosis and now those tapes would be used against him. His bail was one million dollars but if it had been one dollar, he couldn't have paid it because all his assets had been seized as the fruits of an illegal enterprise and he didn't even own the clothes he was wearing; they were jail issue. "Could things possibly get any worse," he wondered.
He found out. For the next several hours the prisoners in the block of cells were allowed out into a tiny cement courtyard for exercise or whatever else they wanted. Clayton preferred sitting on his bunk feeling sorry for himself. Even if he had wanted to go out, he couldn't have because two large men were suddenly blocking his door. Terrified, Clayton Smithers remembered how the arresting officer had warned him about how other prisoners would want to anally rape him. Actually, "warned" isn't the right word; "gleefully informed him of what would happen" is more correct.
"Smithers," the first man said. "You got a really cute ass and we're gonna fuck you."
"We're gonna fuck you whether you like it or not," the second man added.
"But, how can you do that? We're all men," the victim-to-be asked.
Both men laughed and the first man said "Your asshole will be as good a fuck as a woman's cunt. Better than some cunts I've fucked."
"You can't. I won't let you."
The two men stepped into the cell and one of them slugged Clayton in the stomach. He collapsed and lay on the floor, groveling from the pain.
"That's just a sample," a voice said. Clayton couldn't see who was talking because he was doubled up in pain.
The second voice was even more threatening. "We're gonna fuck your asshole and if you don't wanna cooperate, we'll beat the shit out of you and then fuck you."
Clayton continued to lie on the floor, still in pain but it was starting to recede. His fright was even worse than his physical pain. He believed the two men would take turns raping him and if he objected or tried to stop them, they would beat him half to death and then rape him. There was nothing he could do to prevent being raped, but he could possibly avoid being beaten up.