Warden's Wife Pays His Debt

This story is posted on the Literotica website—I do not give permission for it to be reposted or reprinted anywhere else without my consent.

This chapter is dedicated to a reader named Lisa who reached out to me over a year and a half ago. At the time she was in an abusive relationship

—

I hope she is doing okay today. As I told her at the time, there is no place in our world for abuse—especially abuse against women. I know some will say I am a hypocrite for suggesting that while authoring a story like this, but I can separate reality from fiction and hope others can too!

If a story like this may cause you to abuse others, please don't read it!

If you are reading this and are a victim of abuse, I encourage you to seek help

—

no one deserves to be treated that way.

A special thanks goes out to Literotica member Eh9198 for his ongoing encouragement to help me get over my roadblocks and finally get this chapter written—hopefully someday we'll have the same success convincing thecryptkeeper to come out of retirement! And also, to MistressAaliyah.

I have appreciated all the well-wishes and words of encouragement from Literotica readers over the past two years!

I hope you all enjoy it!

*****

The San Quentin Prison task force reassembled for the second time in four days since the tragedy. A lot had transpired since they convened only forty-eight hours previously. Like the rest of the San Francisco Bay Area, death and destruction at the old prison had intensified as the repercussions from the earthquake became more apparent. In addition, several more structures around the fifteen-acre correctional property had collapsed amid the numerous aftershocks following the most devastating quake in US history.

The task force, made up of some of the savviest law enforcement and correctional minds in the state, still had no idea how many had perished in the quake devastation and subsequent violence within the walls of the maximum-security prison.

But the rising death toll could only be partially attributed to the natural disaster.

The inmate horde led by Tyrone "Anaconda" Jones was still in charge and their patience was wearing thin. A powder keg was on the verge of detonating. Due to the deteriorating conditions, the lawless mob had already begun killing guards at a pace of one every six hours in response to the authority's decision to cut off all food and drink until the inmates laid down their weapons and surrendered.

But not everyone on the task force shared the belief the current plan would work.

"This embargo isn't going to accomplish shit," shouted Chase Trammell, Director of the Marin County SWAT Force. "These animals don't understand negotiation—FORCE is the only thing they get! We need to bring the wrath of God down on these motherfuckers, otherwise they're going to murder every guard in there. And I can't imagine the torture they are inflicting on the warden and his poor wife. I bet he's already dead and she's been raped by every piece of shit inside those walls!"

"Calm down Chase," answered San Rafael Deputy Police Chief Ryan Brogdon. "There is still a lot we don't know about what is happening in there. The drone runs have been helpful, but there are still lots of unanswered questions."

"We know they are killing guards every six hours! I don't know about you Ryan, but I can't imagine looking the families of those murdered guards in the eyes when we had the opportunity to stop this!"

"I'm with you on that Chase, but let's not forget the bloodshed could be a lot worse if we storm those gates!"

"C'mon Ryan, this thing is going more sideways every hour we wait. Do you want the blood on your hands if we sit here with our thumbs up our asses? We know they are killing at least four guards a day—but imagine the torture they are inflicting on them in the meantime, and God have mercy, the warden and his poor wife, while we wait."

Another voice from the back shouted, "Speaking of Warden Rawlins, have we learned anymore about he and his wife's fate?"

Brogdon addressed the group. "Not much. It was a bit surprising the drone video showed his personal garage empty, but it's certainly possible the inmates moved his SUV. As you know, there are countless buildings where it could be housed. As for the Rawlins' cell phones, they are in the possession of Anaconda Jones and his thugs. Those phones have been the only method of communication we've had with the prisoner group."

"Have they told us anymore about the well-being of the Rawlins'?" Sheryl Drake, Mill Valley Police Chief asked.

A concerned look formed on Brogdon's face. "Sheryl, I'm afraid not, other than Tyrone Jones' cryptic statement "They are being well taken care of".

A hush came over the room before being broken by SWAT Director Trammell's booming voice.

"Ryan, I say it's time! With backup from the military guys, me and my men can end this thing in short order. It's time to act and we all know it! Let's do what we came here for and make a decision!"

Ryan Brogdon gazed around the room and observed more heads nodding than those that weren't.

"Okay, I'm sensing more support for Director Trammel's suggestion. I agree it's time to take a vote. Any objections?"

No one spoke up.

"Okay, all of those in favor of the immediate physical assault plan Director Trammel outlined moments ago, raise your hand."

Thirteen hands went up immediately, followed slowly by five more.

"Anyone else?"

Two more raised.

"Okay, that's twenty in favor. Who thinks we should give more time to the negotiation process?"

Seven hands went up. Three abstained.

"Well, I'd say that's a strong referendum. Chase, how long would it take you and your group to be ready?"

"We've been working on this plan for the past two days. The equipment and manpower are at the ready. Those animals are scheduled to kill the next guard at 1300 hours. I say we launch fifteen minutes ahead and cut their legs out before they have any idea what hit them!"

The room went quiet once again before Brogdon broke the silence.

"Chase, we all understand this is going to be messy and we don't want you or any of your men going in there with your hands tied behind your back. But I don't have to tell you, this action is going to be second-guessed forever if we fuck it up. I guess what I'm saying is, God be with you, but let's try to end it quickly with the least amount of bloodshed possible."

A confident grin appeared on Trammell's face. "Is there any other way Deputy Chief?"

*****

At that moment, Tyrone "Anaconda" Jones sat at Warden Rawlins' desk with his feet up on the surface, a large Cuban cigar in his mouth. The huge black man had absconded the oversized stogey from a secondary humidor Warden Rawlins kept in a file cabinet in the back of his office.

A big group of mostly black inmates surrounded Jones and his right-hand man Lawrence "Wishbone" Washington.

"So, what's the deal Wish?" Jones asked, his deep baritone voice validating his position of power.

"Snake, we found this inmate uniform in the infirmary. It appears it belongs to Mylo Dickenson, that honky rapist motherfucker! Next to it were the bodies of a dead guard, Jerry Kincade, and one of the infirmary docs. Kincade's clothes were missing—it looks like Mylo might have changed into them."

"What the fuck, why would he do that? Has anyone seen Dickenson?" Jones' loud voice questioned the group.

"Nobody we've talked to has seen him since Kincade escorted him out of the C-block just before the quake hit."

"He's got to be here somewhere!"

"One more thing Snake, one of Kincade's thumbs was hacked off and his keys and ID cards were missing."

"Okay, this is some weird fuckin' shit!" The large black former NFL player stated, confusion in his voice. "So, Dickenson kills the guard and doctor, he then changes into Kincaid's clothes and cuts off his thumb—where the fuck did he think he was gonna go?" He asked rhetorically. "I'm sure Mylo took his gun, but that certainly wouldn't have given him the firepower to bust out of Quentin!"

Lester "Mouse" Robinson spoke up. "Hey Snake, have you considered maybe he came here?"

"Here? Mousey, why the fuck would he come he...?" Jones started to ask before a sly smile formed on his oversized lips.

"Yes, Mousey it all makes sense now..." The black leader laughed loudly. "...All that pussy juice on the Warden's desk, the knotted neckties, and of course the shredded female clothing. I bet that lucky son-of-a-bitch surprised the warden and some bitch in this office! I'm guessin' he punked the warden and raped the slut right here on that motherfucker's desk!"

Excitement built amongst the horde of criminals regarding Jones' theory.

"Hey Snake, don't forget we found the warden

and his wife's

cell phones in his desk. And that negotiator prick seemed to think they were

both

here. You think it might have been Rawlins' old lady Dickenson plugged?" Washington asked, his voice rising with each new consideration.

Jones' eyes widened as he gazed at a couple of framed photos of Liv Rawlins they had found lying on the concrete floor and since propped back up on the desk. "Damn Wishbone, I think you might be right! We can only hope it was—serves that son-of-a-bitch warden right! Hopefully Dickenson made that motherfucker watch as he pounded the slut senseless! One thing's for sure, I wish it had been me who stumbled in here—look at the fuckin' titties on that hot-ass bitch! Mylo must have had some fun with those jugs—her sweater was torn apart and that tattered little bra was 32D wasn't it?"

Mousey Robinson nodded with a big creepy smile.

"The only question is, where the fuck are the three of them now? Mousey and Wishbone, why don't you each take some dudes and search those buildings we haven't been through yet. Start with the eastside warehouses and workshops. And don't forget, Mylo fights like a motherfuckin' tiger and is probably armed—he ain't gonna be happy to share. But when you find them, make sure to bring the warden and his wife back here alive if possible. Having them in our possession would give us much better negotiating power—not to mention I wanna bang the warden's old lady myself before I teach that warden SOB what it feels like to have a black anaconda stuffed up his ass!" Jones bellowed.

The crowd roared.

Wishbone and Mousey nodded their understanding before grabbing a half-dozen guys each and heading towards the door.

Jones barked, "Hey, if you don't find them by 12:30 pm, meet us back at the cafeteria, we got another guard to off!"

The crazed throng cheered loudly one final time.

*****

One hundred miles to the North, warden Grant Rawlins lay in cum stained sheets listening as the headboard in the room next door banged against the wall as it had for four days straight. On the other side, his beautiful wife lay on her back, naked, smooth legs spread wide and pinned over the sweat-slick shoulders of serial rapist Mylo Dickenson. Her large breasts circling in harmonious rhythm each time the convict's huge cock pounded into her—his intense thrusting causing the imported mahogany backstop to hammer loudly off the drywall.

The young wife grunted each time Mylo bottomed out. It had been like this for the better part of a hundred hours since the quake and subsequent events led them to where they were now.

Where they were now was the isolated weekend getaway of the previously strong-willed couple who with each debasement by the sexual deviant were quickly approaching their breaking point. Twenty years of sexless existence for a man of Mylo's carnal appetite was being remedied in mere days—the warden's wife on the receiving end of every bit of Mylo's ceaseless vitality. Since the abduction, the rapist had been making up for lost time, artfully corrupting every inch of the young doctor's glorious body.

The warden's misery was interrupted by yet another triumphant exultation from the crazed sociopath. "That's it, hahaha, squirt on your daddy's big fuckin' cock again slut! Gimme that shit! Fuck yeah, that's another juicy one. Damn Doc—this pussy of yours—young, strung and so fuckin' full of cum!"

Grant Rollins swallowed hard as he felt like his head would explode—but before it could happen, he heard Mylo roar again.

"Get ready bitch, these big balls are about to explode!"

In the days since their abduction and unrelenting sex inflicted on his wife, the warden still hadn't come to grips with the convict's stamina. It seemed the insatiable deviant never tired or lost his desire for sex—knowing his wife was on the receiving end of the onslaught, made it nearly impossible to bear. The warden's worst nightmare was playing out minute after minute, hour after hour, and day after day.

"How in the world could this really be happening?"

His thoughts were interrupted yet again by another braggadocios wail he knew all too well.

"Oh shit bitch, here it comes! Uhn...Uhn...Uhn...Fuck...Yeah...Now I'm gonna paste them big titties too...Oh Yeah...I ain't done yet slut...Fuck...Uhn...Yeah!"

Several moments passed before the convict's blood-curdling cackle confirmed what the warden already knew.

"Hahaha...damn Doc, that gaped open slit and them sweet-ass titties look hot all coated in my spunk!"

For the next several minutes silence prevailed as countless thoughts permeated Grant Rawlins' muddled mind. He could feel drool spilling around his ball gag as he gazed at the cock cage restraining his genitals. Yellow piss stains dotted the silvery finish. His penis and testicles had been confined in the device for nearly four days straight—the discomfort now rivaling his other insufferable injuries.

In the room next door, Mylo watched in complete enjoyment as Liv Rawlins' small hands smeared his goo around her mounded D-cups.

"This is disgusting, and you are sick for getting off on it so much!" She complained defiantly.

With a cruel smile, Mylo teased, "Yeah, I'm a sick fuck alright, but you can't tell me those titties don't look good all slick and shiny like that! And make sure you get plenty on them big nipples too...uh huh just like that honey. And by the way, you shouldn't complain, I heard bull jizz is good for the skin."

"I can tell you there is absolutely no clinical evidence semen has any beneficial qualities for human skin!" She snapped.

Mylo laughed loudly before goading her further.

"Maybe they just haven't done enough research yet Doc. You and I are the perfect test case. Me having so much spunk to share and you having such nice tits to paste. I could swear your sweet-ass melons have gotten riper since they started gettin' all spermed up!"

"You're a bastard!"

"As a matter of fact, I am." He smiled proudly. "That fact must make it all the more difficult for you to accept, in addition to all that titty cream you've rubbed in, that pristine little pussy of yours hasn't stopped gushin' all over my bastard dick for four days straight!"

Liv tried to mask her embarrassment before answering.

"Just because a woman orgasms...uh...doesn't mean she enjoys it. What you are doing is 100% rape and I will make sure the authorities learn about every loathsome detail!"

Mylo laughed loud enough for the warden to hear in the room next door. "You sure you want them to know about

every

detail sweetheart? I mean, when they hear your little sugar slit squirted all over my Johnson in every position imaginable, they might suspect you weren't so miserable after all!"

"Oh, don't try to use that same defense you and your slimy lawyer used in your rape cases, no one's going to buy it a second time!"

Mylo enjoyed every delectable moment of banter with the warden's brilliant wife. The fact she was a renowned pediatrician and respected hospital administrator, and he a high school dropout who hadn't stepped foot outside maximum security in nearly twenty years, only heightened his delight.

Behind bars he was accustomed to inane arguments over such things as who could hock a loogie the furthest or who the next princess in the prison yard would be. Those arguments involved lifer dirtbags more illiterate than himself, not gorgeous medical professionals married to prison wardens.

It made it all the better that as they debated now, she lay naked next to him reluctantly rubbing his cream on her spectacular tits.

Fully aware he would never step foot in another courtroom, Mylo played along. "Yeah, maybe they won't buy it again Doc, but it didn't work out so bad last time. All those hot WILF's kind of blew their own cases when the videos showed them getting off on my hog...pretty much like you've been doing since we ditched that shithole lockup!" He chuckled. "And while you are correct in suggesting those sluts' orgasms didn't exonerate me from the rape wrap, when the videos showed them getting off, it certainly put doubt in the jury's mind!"

Liv cringed, as despite his intolerable boasts, she knew he wasn't far off track—her mind suddenly filled with recollections of all the mind-blowing orgasms she'd experienced on his massive dick. Nevertheless, she tried to put up a believable defense.

"You are so full of yourself. Just because you have an...um...large penis, you think women prefer

that

over loving experiences with their husbands or significant others. You are incapable of understanding there is a mental component to intimacy that is every bit as important and desired for women as the physical part. You could never make me feel like I do when Grant makes love to me."

Mylo kept a straight face.

Despite what she claimed, he knew no amount of mental or spiritual richness could bring her anywhere near the kind of ecstasy she had experienced on his big dick. While it had been twenty years since his heydey, he hadn't forgotten what it was like to bring a reluctant woman to life-changing orgasms for the first time. The warden's wife had been like the poster child for that accomplishment ever since he'd first bent her over her husband's desk. As much as she detested what he did to her, her loins betrayed her every time he sunk deep into her spectacular body. He had literally fucked her into another world these past four days.

"You can keep telling yourself that Doc, but since your hubby's little thing remains in that cage and you aren't getting the

mental intimacy

you desire, I guess you're stuck with this!" He joked as he gripped his fat dick and flopped it around. "Speaking of the little hubby, I should probably go check on him."

"Please let me go this time, I've hardly seen him in the past 24 hours and I'm sure he could use some assistance...I promise I won't do anything to undermine you!"

Another toothy smile formed on Mylo's face.

"I really like it when you beg Doc, and maybe I'll let you see him in a bit, but me and the

big guy

have a few things to discuss first." He replied before retrieving the handcuffs from the nightstand. "Put it up here..."

A look of defeat washed across her face before she reluctantly let him fasten her wrist to the headboard.

"That a girl, I'll be back in a while. Meanwhile, keep rubbing my jizz around those amazing boobs—maybe it'll provide a little relief for all those bites and hickey's!" Mylo cackled loudly as he exited the bed and headed towards the door.

Liv gave him a "fuck you" stare but bit her tongue. She watched as he exited the room, his long cock flopping from side to side.

*****

Moments later, the naked image of the escaped sex offender entered Grant Rawlins' peripheral vision—an ear-to-ear smile already plastered on the sociopath's sweat-slick, reddened face.

"Hey chief, how's it hangin?" The convict teased as he strolled into the room, irony dripping from his unsympathetic comments aimed at the warden's caged genitalia, while the man's wife's cum dripped from his horse cock.