Donna 2002

Too bad the girl's eyes were hidden. She had beautiful eyes, Donna thought, watching the girl in her bed. Callie, that's her name, the prettiest girl on the bus.

She had the girl brought directly to her after intake. She could do that, because she was the warden. What Donna wanted, Donna got, and Donna wanted the prettiest girl in her bed, strapped down, spread eagle on her back, arms up, leg spread, her wrists and ankles bound to the bedposts. Donna could not see her eyes, because the girl had a blindfold put on her. it intensified physical sensations, and Donna wanted things to be intense. She had let the girl put her orange two piece jumpsuit back on after intake, because she wanted to strip the girl herself. It would be like opening a present. Donna chuckled.

The girl must be screaming hard, but it only came out as a keening sound, with an occasional gurgle because of the penis gag seated in her mouth, and strapped around her cheeks. She fought, oh yes, how she fought like a wild cat, twisting her body left and right, straining on her arms and legs, rolling her hips, trying to bring her knees up to close her legs, trying to kick against the bindings on her ankles, fingers balling into fists and opening again like she was squeezing something, Her head rolled from side to side, golden hair in a halo. Her wrists would be so bruised from the twisting of her hands.

Donna thought she would strip the girl first before she got out of her own clothes. She was in her cream blouse, blue skirt, nylons and pumps. She didn't have to wear a uniform. She's the warden. The girl's her prisoner. That's the reality of it. What's she in for? Why murder, of course. The girl's a convicted murderer. She tracked down two of her rapists and shot them point blank She was gang raped by four men, poor thing, She said it was payback, self defense, and killing the two was just the start, and the other two would have it coming. But those two men were not armed when she shot them. She was defiant in court, during intake. No one was ever going to rape her again, ever! Well, we'll see about that.

Donna's sat down on the bed, and she could see how the girl immediately stiffened, from feeling the shift in the mattress by her side. Donna could see how the girl was biting into the gag, how tense she was, arms and legs straining hard, with a desperate yank here and there. Donna chuckles. Another gurgle from the girl, making a sound that would have been a scream without the gag when Donna laced her fingers in the girl's hair, yanking her head back "you don't like rape, do you? Well, guess what. It could be so much fun!" Donna leaned to put her lips close to the girl's ear. Even with her hair held, the girl tried to yank her head away "Mama gonna play with you now. A nice little rape in the morning, maybe gang rape in the afternoon by the staff, and then by your cellmates afterwards so they get to know you better. What are you gonna do about it? You gonna kill me, kill all of us? Nah. You'll like it, like you did when those men had their turns with you. Did you cum for them? like a slut? Is that why you wanted to kill them? For making you cum?"

The girl's keening rose to a high pitch, her nostrils flaring. The noise she made sounded like "kill! kill!". Donna, you wanna, don't you? You hate me? Donna laughed, releasing the strands of hair in her hand. She looked down the girl's body, in that jumpsuit. She reached to close her hands on the collar of that orange top. There was already a rip, and she yanked down that rip with a sudden jerk, hard, pulling the material up in her fists, yanking so hard that she made the girl's body arch until the material was tear open to the waist. "you like that? tied, stripped? That turns you on?" Donna was breathing harder herself. The girl wore a white tshirt underneath the jumpsuit. Braless. No bra in her prison. Donna admired how the tshirt stretched over her curves, the outlines of the nipples pushing up against the fabric. She turned to reach for her pair of scissors she kept on the nightstand for the purpose. She nicked the collar of the tshirt, and then ripped that down the middle too, tearing the shirt open with one steady pull, revealing a naked torso, baring those pert breasts, tipped with puffy, dome shaped aureole, looking so delicate, pale pink at the rims and rising soft to the deep pink nipples at the tips.

"Oh...did they like your titties, those men who played with you?" They looked so delicious, suckable, those nipples on top of the delicate dome shaped pads of her aureolae. Donna drew in a deep breath. She couldn't take her eyes away. Lines of tears were coming out onto the girl's cheeks from under the blindfold now, clear wet, no mascara. The bed creaked from the sudden jerks the girl was making. Donna reached to dip a middle finger lightly to the rim of an aureole. She just couldn't resist playing with such a sexy toy. Slowly she traced a light circle around the aureole, not touching the nipple as yet. A sharp yelp came from behind the girl's gag. Her body twisted, trying to turn away from the touch. Immediately she jerked the other way, then back again, to dislodge that finger on her flesh. Donna chuckled, following the movements of the girl's body, keeping the finger exactly where it was, frustrating the girl, slowly tracing light circles around the aureole. It crinkled, hardened. the nipple rose, without being touched. The girl couldn't help it, Donna knew how to make a woman's body tingle. Yup. Her only body was played with like that when the director tied her up and played with her. That's how she got the job. Head Warden. Her body had responded, and Donna wished she had killed the director to wipe out that memory. But then she wouldn't have this job.

Donna closed her thumb and middle fingers lightly on delicate flesh. It felt so tender, a girl's nipple, and the girl jerked as if touched by electricity. She pinched down, lightly, and the girl jerked again, her torso arching up then falling down heavily. "What? does it feel good?" Donna laughs. "you are sensitive there, aren't you? You like it? Did they play with you like that, those men? But I bet they didn't know how to do it well"

Donna swept her hands very lightly, feathery light, over both breasts, caressing, fondling with her fingertips. She watched the involuntary undulations of the girl's body in response. The girl couldn't help it. Both hands now, she pinched down, and the girl jerked as if shocked again by a live wire, her torso heaving, jerking with the violation of her body, a shuddering noise coming out from behind her gag. Those sensitive buds became hard as pebbles under Donna's fingertips, whether the girl wanted them to or not "oh yeah, oh yeah, baby girl. You like it when mama love you like that?" The girl was mewling now, tears dripping down her cheek to her hair on the side of her face, sobbing like a wounded, tormented animal, her breathing coming out in bursts. Donna saw that her fingers were clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles were turning white, her heels dug into the mattress, her toes curled.

Donna let out a puff of breath herself. She too, had been breathing hard. Her heart was pounding, and she was wet. She eased up from the mattress to watch the girl, and the girl gurgled again, when Donna's hand left her body, as if she was...disappointed? For one moment She arched her body, as if seeking more of the missing touches. Pert breasts rose, nipples tight as little red spikes, her ribcage well defined from the upward bowing of her body. Donna moved to the foot of the bed, and started to snip up one leg of the jump suit slacks with the scissors, up to the waist. Then the other leg. When the shreds were pulled away, the girl was bared except for the white cotton panties. OMG the panties are damp. Your body couldn't deal with the stimulation? There was the unmistakable musk of her pussy in the air "Oh my baby girl, that hot body of yours likes it! Did you get wet when they raped you? Did you cum for them like the whore I know you are? Don't cry, baby girl. Mama will take care of you, Mama got you"

Donna curled her fingers under the waist band of the girl's panties, slipped a blade of the scissors under it, and snipped. She tugged at the vee of the panties and snipped it. Oh god. Immediately her nostrils were bathed in the scent of the girl. Those pink lips. They were pouting, a glistening line of wetness ran from her pussy down into her asscrack. Now look at that! "Oh, you love it, my poor baby girl!"

Donna put down the scissors. She kicked away her pumps, wiggled out of her skirt, and started to unbuttoned her cream blouse. It was time to get naked.

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Two naked women, panting hard, skin to skin, flesh to flesh. A body glided over another, curves rubbing against curve. Donna felt the tight, hard bud between her lips, a nipple hard as a little pebble. She pulled on it with a firm suction, rolled it under her tongue, while the girl underneath her flounced uncontrollably from the jolts of sensations. Donna's tongue snaked around the sensitive nubbin. She nibbled on it, from the base at the aureole up along the stem to the tip and down again, as if about to bite. Each touch of her lips, tongue, and teeth caused the girl to jerk, her body flouncing so hard that the bed creaked. The girl's making a constant humming sound from behind her gag now, interrupted by the loud gasp of her explosive breath, her head cranked back, until the top of her head pushed against the mattress, her torso arching. This girl is so damn responsive. Oh yes, baby girl. Mama got you, mama will show you how it's done.

The girl had been gang raped, by people she thought were her friends. Did she respond like that when those men were all over her? Girls wouldn't be in the mood during... Did she become responsive like that afterwards, Donna wondered? Was she always like that? Bet she wasn't. Donna thought. But I bet she cummed like a rocket and she hated it. To give away your orgasm during rape was worse than dealing with the harsh physical abuse. When your pink was forced from you, and you got wet and you cummed, was to have everything taken away, your most intimate self defiled, not just by the rapists, but by yourself. It was as if you were on the side of the rapists, culpable for your own rape. That changed you forever. You became damaged goods in your mind, never the same again. A demon had gotten into you. That's why she had to kill those men. There's a before, and there's an after. The girl living in the after was trying to find the girl in the before, and the only way to do it was to kill those men. Donna knew. She herself was there. She had that demon in her. You could kill or you could let that demon out, so you didn't have to live with that demon alone.

Donna felt the girl's body writhing and pushing nakedly underneath hers, when she pull the nipple tightly between her lips. She liked that. She could suck on that tit all night, so sweet, the tight flesh of a young body. Her hand crawled between the girls legs and all the girl could do, was to flex the muscles of her inner thighs, tense her tummy and tremble as if in a fever, as if that could stop her. "Oh my, you are wet, aren't you? you are so wet, you little slut. You love it, don't you? My baby girl is a slut. Mama loves it!"

Donna wanted to feel the girl, really feel her, finger her, play with her, nurse on that sweet tit and finger fuck her until she orgasmed whether she wants to or not. Let that demon thrive! Did she care that she was damaging this girl?

Donna didn't care! The girl was too pretty, too precious not to be her fucktoy. She wanted to feel the girl's flesh, to hear the tormented sounds she was making so she knew the demon was taking hold. She wanted to feel the trembling and jerking of the girl's body when she traced her fingertips up and down along the edges of her labia, hear the loud gurgling that would have been screams after screams when she entered her with her fingers, when she pushed her fingertips to the slippery bead of her clit to rub it raw. She didn't care that this was destroying the girl's soul. Donna was going to enjoy the girl, to make her endure one unwilling orgasm after another, to hear the piteous pleas, alternating with the rage filled cries. Let that demon thrive!

Donna sunk two fingers into the girl's hot, wet pussy, her palm up, thumb pressing the the apex against the little button, rubbing and pushing at the tight bead in quick circles, faster and faster. The girl was flouncing her hips on the bed now, her buttocks hitting the mattress hard, as if being jolted repeatedly. And when Donna bit down on the nipple, she could feel the girl releasing. She could hear the hoarse cry from behind the gag.

Such a powerful, powerful, violent orgasm.

Donna knew she had changed that girl, ruined her now, dragged that sweet, murderous girl deeper into the dark tunnel where raped women lived, and by her too, by another woman. But then, was there a better fate for a pretty girl behind bars, to have the pleasure of a little lesbian rape? made the bitch of a mama? And she's the head mama! You lucky girl! Donna knew the girl wanted to kill her now, hated her with all her soul. But she was not done, not by far! Now where were the toys? The wand? that long, thick dildo? Donna wondered if the girl had ever been edged until she begged? That really, really would destroy a girl. And the night was young!