This story is posted on the Literotica website; the author does not give permission for it to be reposted or reprinted anywhere else without consent.
Any references to celebrities or real-life people or places are purely fictional. The story includes topics of tragedy, murder, death, and the sexual mistreatment of women, none of which are condoned by the author in real-world circumstances.
I hope you enjoy this first chapter as it sets the stage for subsequent twists and turns that will take place in the following chapter's and eventually lead to the story's ultimate destination.
*****
Warden Grant Rawlins' eyes fluttered open momentarily as consciousness finally returned to his prone body. He lay motionless for several seconds trying to make sense of what would normally have been very familiar surroundings. Blood trickled into his still unfocused eyes and instantly obscured any sense of vision he'd gained when he came to. His ears rang incessantly above the blare of a distant alarm.
A general sense of pain enveloped his entire body, but it wasn't until he attempted to move that he felt the excruciating throb from his shattered right shoulder and crushed ribs. The incomprehensible throbbing immediately pushed him back towards the throes of unconsciousness. Just before he passed out again he heard muffled screams from a location not far from where he lay.
Ten minutes later when he came to again, the ringing in his ears remained, as did the ever-present distant alarm echo. The sound had a recognizable tone, but in his current condition, he couldn't immediately place its relevance. His vision remained obscured and the trickle of fluid into his sockets stung continuously. His head hurt uncomprehendingly and breathing was difficult from an ever-present pain in his ribcage area. The warden remained motionless for another 30 seconds before another set of sounds interrupted his muddled mind.
"No...no...please...no...it's too big...please take it out...God no...I'm begging you...please!" The sound of the woman's pleading voice ended with the unmistakable sound of a loud slap of hand against flesh.
"Shut the fuck up and take it bitch!" The voice of an authoritative man yelled out.
Still not in control of his faculties but sensing a woman's distress, the warden attempted to roll to his left away from his wrecked shoulder. As he made his second attempt to rise, for some unknown reason, his extended arms blocked his ability to move. The intolerable pain in his extremities returned, but before he passed out yet again, he looked up through bleary eyes to see his wrists handcuffed to the leg of a large piece of furniture.
Another 30 minutes passed before his consciousness returned, this time for good. The pain in his aching head was so intense it made him wish he was still comatose. His eyes fluttered open, but his vision remained fuzzy at best. He tried to recall where he was and how he'd gotten there. Suddenly a hazy recollection of his wrists handcuffed to a piece of furniture entered his mind. Grant was mildly surprised when he tilted his stiff neck up to see that he hadn't actually dreamed that memory; both his wrists were in fact bound to a large wooden object that he now recognized as the oversized credenza in the sitting room outside of his office.
The same distant alarm that he'd heard previously banged loudly in the distance. This time the sound's importance resonated in the warden's mind; it was the strident wail of the prison's level V security system. The level V alarm sounded only when something truly catastrophic happened at San Quentin.
Mayhem
was
actually taking place all over the maximum security prison at that moment, but the most catastrophic event for the warden was actually occurring in his office next door.
Suddenly Grant's mind focused on another sound. It was a sound he'd heard countless times before, but something about it was different now. The sound was the shrill of metal against concrete, the sound that the feet of his desk made whenever it was moved or bumped unintentionally on the concrete floor in his office. The sound always resonated in his mind, as to Grant Rawlins it was like nails against a chalkboard.
Right now the sound was occurring in a rapid consistent interval as if the desk was being bumped around the room hurriedly. The teeth-clenching screech was pre-empted each time by another sound that reminded Grant of body parts slapping together. At that moment, the recollection of the distressed woman and her pleas followed by the threatening deep-voiced response and the slapping of hand against skin returned to the warden's mind.
Just then he heard a similar loud slap followed by the same man's gravelly voice, "You like it when I spank your hot little ass slut? You gonna squirt on this big fucking cock again...huh? Answer me bitch!"
For the first time since the huge bookcase had fallen on him, Warden Grant Rawlins remembered that he hadn't been alone in his office before
it
happened...
*****
Earlier that afternoon, his beautiful wife snuggled in his arms with her large breasts pressing into his chest while looking up at him with a naughty gaze on her gorgeous face, "This morning was fun; I'm really glad you took the day off, I don't care if it's raining cats and dogs out there, we can spend the whole weekend in bed as far as I'm concerned!" Her long eyelashes fluttered cutely, "I'm sure the show will be great, but I would have been just as happy if we'd just gone up to the Ranch for the weekend!"
The "Ranch" as his wife Liv referred to it, was the weekend home they'd purchased the previous summer up in the Northern California coastal berg of Sea Ranch, California, a hundred miles north of their home in San Anselmo. The Rawlins' had been spending most of their available weekends up at their seaside vacation getaway.
"I know, I would have liked that too, but I bought these Hamilton tickets four months ago and I got us a pretty nice room at the St. Francis. There are worse ways we could spend our anniversary."
She reached down and playfully gripped his cock through his jeans, "Actually, I don't really care where we go, I just want to get in your pants big boy. I bought a couple new things I think you're going to like!" Her big blue eyes flashed as she smiled mischievously.
"Damn, you know I love that sexy lingerie on you. Now
I'm
questioning my choice to go to that fucking show after all! Making love to you in front of the fireplace overlooking the ocean at the Ranch sounds pretty damn good to me!" They both laughed and kissed before he continued, "I can't believe it's been seven years honey, the time has flown by, but you look better now than when we first got married."
"Oh shut up Grant, you're just saying that...no one looks better at 34 than they did at 27!"
He held her tightly, "I'll be the judge of that when I see you in those new outfits this weekend!" He kissed her deeply again, "But we should get going, don't forget I have to stop by my office and grab a couple of things before we head down to San Francisco."
His "office" as he referred to it, was the official workspace for the Chief Warden at San Quentin State Prison, the highest maximum security facility in the state of California. San Quentin was located on a large piece of property on the edge of San Francisco Bay in Marin County, just six miles to the Southeast of their home in San Anselmo and ten miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Grant Rawlins, 44, had been Chief Warden at San Quentin for the past six years and during his time there, the prison had seen significant change. Rawlins was a believer in the power of rehabilitation for inmates who demonstrated a desire to atone for their crimes and invest in the countless programs he and his staff had instituted for that purpose.
But the warden was also a firm disciplinarian who showed no sympathy for those within the prison populace who challenged authority or caused problems for guards or other inmates. And since San Quentin housed the largest population of death row inmates of any prison in the Western Hemisphere, there were lots of bad apples. Most of who regularly incurred the wrath of Rawlins' uncompromising authority.
The warden was not a well-liked man by the majority of the prison population at San Quentin.
*****
The couple loaded up their new Range Rover and headed out the circular driveway of their 1920's Tudor-style home in the affluent neighborhood of Marin. The drive over to his office usually took about 15 minutes in non-traffic hours, but the rain was coming down so hard, they gave themselves an extra 15 to get there tonight. "Shit, I haven't seen it come down like this in a while!" Grant opined as the big knobby tires of the Range Rover splashed through a large pool of standing water at the intersection of their quiet cul-de-sac and the main road.
"I know, they are calling for heavy rains all weekend. I hope we don't have any trouble getting in and out of the city."
"Not in this badass mofo," Grant boasted as he patted the handsome dashboard of his newest baby, "Besides once we get over there, we won't have to go out in it much. Aside from the ten minute ride from the St. Francis to the Orpheum Theatre, we'll spend most of the rest of the weekend at the hotel. I have spa reservations tomorrow and Sunday and dinner reservations both nights."
"Sounds good to me, but I already told you what I want to do most of the weekend." His wife replied in a sultry voice with the same mischievous look on her face that she'd flashed back at the house.
He smiled and looked over in her direction, "Yes, I think you've made that pretty clear!"
Liv sat with her back against the passenger door with her spectacular body turned partially in his direction. The dark tinted windows obscured anyone from seeing into their supercharged SUV. Grant looked over in her direction and noticed another mischievous look as she bit her bottom lip while slipping her hand down her right thigh.
The warden reveled in this sort of flirtatious interaction with his young wife, knowing that the rest of the world observed her as an attractive, gifted pediatrician and conservative hospital administrator. Only he was aware that when she allowed her outward, caring professional persona to be unmasked, a sexual, sometimes kinky tigress resided beneath the cloaked image. He was the very thankful beneficiary of that side of his sexy wife's divergent personality.
The two of them had met following his divorce from his first wife. She, like Liv, had been nearly 10 years younger than Grant, but his first wife quickly became disillusioned with the marriage when it was discovered that he was incapable of having children. He caught her cheating with one of his best friends and the divorce followed soon thereafter.
Her affair and the subsequent break-up had nearly killed him at the time, but a chance meeting with a beautiful young doctor via a friend's urging changed all that. He and Liv fell in love quickly and within a year of his bitter divorce, Grant Rawlins got remarried to one of the most eligible young professional women in Marin County. She was also a stone cold fox.
Grant's reproductive inadequacies were of no consequence to his new wife as she was fully committed to her career; and moreover, she believed her calling in regards to children was to be the best pediatrician in Northern California, not as a mother. Based on her early career path, she was well on her way. At her young age, she had received countless acknowledgements for her cutting-edge cancer treatment programs for children of all ages. Liv Rawlins had already achieved the title of Director of Children's Health at Marin General Hospital by the time she turned 33.
Now as the rain pelted against the Range Rover's windshield and the wipers strained to keep up, Grant glanced over in her direction and watched in fascination as her slender fingers gripped the bottom of her mid-length silky skirt and slowly slid it up over her knees and past her smooth well-toned thighs, "Oops, it looks like I forgot something," she purred as her pantiless pussy came into view.
A sly smile came to Grant's face as he ogled her little dark patch and shimmering thick vaginal lips, "You know this isn't the safest activity in this kind of weather. I could easily be distracted when I should be paying attention to the road!" Grant joked as he alternated between checking out his gorgeous wife and the rain soaked road ahead.
"Go ahead and watch the road if you're so concerned, you don't have to pay any attention to me." She teased in a pouty voice before softly touching her clit and moaning erotically.
