Defusing A Bomb

She had sculpted eyebrows over deep blue eyes and sported pillar box red lipstick. Her tightly curled black hair was cut short but stylishly and she could have used the same hairdresser as me.

She picked up my file which contained a single sheet. I knew that it did not even give details of my crime, which must have puzzled her, but paperwork often lagged behind especially if someone had to be incarcerated in a hurry.

She looked up from the sheet and glanced at the bigger guard. The breath left my body as she punched me squarely in the back. In spite of everything I almost turned on her but I held myself in check.

I could protect myself against other inmates, that would be tolerated, but this was stage three. No matter how high my status rose behind the bars I had to learn that I was totally beholden to this woman and her staff.

The guard was surprisingly limber and I fell to my knees when she caught me in the back of the thigh with a well delivered kick.

Now that I was safely kneeling she came back round from behind her desk and stood in front of me.

"I understand that you had a little fun with Simmon's yesterday. She's the blonde by the way, the one you didn't brutalize. Now, I'm easy going, As long as things run smoothly, and everybody knows their place, I'm prepared to turn a blind eye..."

She paused for effect and then continued.

"...but, I think it's only fair that, since you had such a good time, you ought to show your gratitude."

I said nothing but then I was not expected to. I knew what was coming. She looked down at me as she slipped the slim leather belt from the loops of her skirt before taking it off altogether.

"Take them off...and don't you dare touch me with your hands."

I was looking at a pair of everyday, black, cotton panties. She could have removed them before she came into the room but this was all part of the process to grind me down.

I knew, as soon as I agreed to take on the job, that a moment like this was almost certain to come. The service has more than its fair share of lesbians many of them able to abuse their senior positions. The fact that I had tried to prepare myself beforehand did not make it any easier.

I leaned forward and awkwardly took her panties between my teeth and she offered no help as I worked them down her legs. She maintained a detached demeanour but my nose told me that she was aroused from the outset.

She stood with her legs a little apart allowing me to take in her sex which was covered with a closely trimmed growth of black hair. It was only as she stroked it that I noticed her wedding band.

Of course, it may have been possible that her partner was another woman but I suspected not. I was now in a position to glance at the framed photograph on her desk which showed her with a young girl perhaps three years old. The likeness was too strong for it to be anyone other than her daughter.

"Show me what you can do."

I was angry that I was put in this position but the more so knowing that she probably enjoyed a regular family life. Why could she not be content with what she had?

I eased closer and took what little comfort I could. At least she had turned out to be an attractive woman.

Her sex appeared tight but it opened under the first sweep of my tongue. Her inner lips, now revealed, were larger than I imagined and there was an indefinable softness. I wondered if this was, perhaps, something to do with motherhood.

She immediately leaked moisture and I swallowed as I worked my tongue deeper inside her. Here, unexpectedly, I found that her muscles were strong and I felt my tongue caught in a firm grip.

She relaxed after a moment, having let me know who was in control, and I worked my tongue slowly over the whole of her sex.

She showed no obvious signs of arousal, other than a slow release of moisture, and she placed a hand on the top of my head to partially restrict my movements.

"Come on. Don't take all day. You can do better than that."

The taunt got to me and I had to consciously reassert my self control. Previously, it had been a woman paid to play a role, albeit I felt that the performance had some roots in a genuine convictionf, but this was an act of wanton cruelty. I could imagine other new inmates, here on their knees, being brought to tears.

I tried for her clitoris, hoping to get it over and done with, but she anticipated my desire. As I readjusted my position she moved with me. She stepped forward, forcing my head back, and settling her sex over my mouth.

The strain on my neck was immediate and there was no question of being able to do as I wished.

"If you're not going to do it properly get your tongue inside and I'll come on your face."

I wanted to defy her but, for the sake of everything, I had to endure. Besides, by pushing my tongue inside I eased the tension in my jaw.

She began to grind herself on me, the shorts hairs scratching my face. It did not take long. She put a hand behind my head and pulled me tighter still as, with a sharp exhalation, she started to come.

It was almost perfunctory, as if she simply had a point to prove, but then, of course, she had a wealth of far more talented tongues than mine to call on at any time she wished.

I was just pleased to get it over with but I knew better than to get up before I was told. I knelt there as she cleaned herself with some tissues and then dressed unhurriedly.

She took a seat at her desk, as if nothing untoward had transpired, and looked directly at me.

"Your charge sheet has yet to arrive but I have instructions to hold you on B Wing. This is where we house our non-nationals and those charged with terrorist activities.

The Senior Officer on B Wing is Officer Mullens and you will want to do everything in your power to stay on the right side of her."

A flick of her eyes over my right shoulder in the direction of the larger guard suggested that Officer Mullens had just borne witness to my degradation and that I had already had a taste of her method of discipline.

"Thank you ma'am."

I cast my eyes downwards as I acknowledged her desperate to be dismissed but I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Lie down."

I felt my stomach turning over as I looked to the side. Whilst I was engaged with the deputy governor Mullens had silently undressed.

She was not a pretty sight to behold. She looked as if she had worked out at some stage but had long since given up. Her pale shoulders were rounded and the flesh on her arms hung a little loosely from wasted muscles.

Her breasts looked as if they were strangers to one another. One appeared heavier than its companion and her nipples were so pale that they melted into the surrounding skin.

Worse still, she had a pronounced belly and fleshy thighs in the midst of which her sex was deep set with an untidy thatch of mousey hair.

I looked at the deputy governor but there was no mercy from that quarter. Her face bore a mean smile suggesting that she was enjoying my plight.

I wanted to stop it there and then but I was dug in way too deep. No one, including the governor herself, knew who I really was or my true purpose. I was allowed one phone call a week but there was no knowing when it could be taken; it might even be denied altogether.

The only certain trigger was my weekly visitation rights. If I failed to show, for whatever reason, they would immediately come and get me out but, until then, I was on my own.

Every instinct cried out to me to hold my ground and fight if needs be but I was under no illusions. I could hurt them, hold them off for a while, but this was their domain and they would prevail eventually and only make it worse for me.

I felt myself trembling as I did as she asked. I lay stiffly trying to force myself to relax.

She loomed over me, blocking the light, and then she straddled my body.

She waited a second or two before dropping to her knees with a grace that her bulk belied.

She took my hands in hers and pushed them up over my head. For a second I resisted but, seeing the dark look in her eyes, I immediately thought better of it. With my arms so placed she moved forward and pinned them with her knees.

It was a frightening moment. Her thighs hemmed me in, allowing little movement, and my face felt horribly vulnerable. I could still do some damage with my knees but I doubted my ability to buck her off altogether.

Her flesh was warm and clammy but at least she smelt clean. I was guessing that she used a lemon shower gel.

"You know the drill"

She smiled for the first time but it was an expression hardly worthy of the name. She eased up over me, her shins pressing down painfully onto my arms.

I could no longer see her face. My vision was filled by the sight of her unruly sex and the alarming overhang of her belly. It was harder to breathe and the citric fragrance could not hold its own against a more oppressive scent which slowly filled the enclosed space.

She let herself sink until my face was brushed by the cold dampness of her pubis. She wanted me to know that she had been preparing herself even while I was on my knees to her boss.

It felt disgusting and the only solution was to lift my head and lick at her. She did not need much encouragement and I was soon receiving a warmer offering.

As I licked she relaxed and sank lower still so that her weight began to press on my face. In so doing her sex became deformed as if it too had given up any pretext of being toned.

I found myself licking in a hot, formless, wetness with only the tangled growth giving me any idea of my bearings.

I quickly began to perspire but her corpulence trapped the heat raising the temperature degree by slow degree. Even the air that I breathed seemed heated.

My discomfort was of no consequence to her. My efforts may have been clumsy but she seemed to be enjoying it nevertheless. My problem was that, as her excitement grew, her movements became less controlled.

She was no longer simply bearing down; she had begun to gyrate her heavy hips and was working herself over my whole face with my perspiration adding to her own natural lubrication.

Her scent was so overpowering that my olfactory senses closed it out but it seemed to starve the air of oxygen. I was breathing hard and feared that I might hyperventilate.

I had long since closed my eyes and my hearing was hampered by her tightening thighs but I could not shut myself off. My head was being jarred against the solid floor keeping me in my living nightmare.

I was at the point of using my teeth, if only to remind her that I was human, when she came to a sudden stop. Her whole body tensed, her sex centred on my mouth, and than I felt it pulse.

It was a fluttering rhythm which gave way to a series of strong regular beats which left her panting for breath as her sex begrudgingly yielded up a few last pungent drops of moisture.

My wet face was chilled by fresh air as she rose suddenly. I immediately opened my eyes but only to see the beads of perspiration which had formed in the valley of her breasts to run down over the mound of her belly.

I felt queasy but there was a hideous possibility that she was not yet sated. Fortunately for me she began to get dressed but I had sudden dread that I might wake up in the night only to find her standing over my bunk.

I sat up a little too quickly and sparks flashed before my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to go and soak my face in cold water but there was one last hurdle to overcome.

I stole a glance at the Indian girl and tried to gauge her reaction. She looked a little apprehensive but at the same time there was flush of excitement about her cheeks.

"You haven't been introduced. This is Officer Voralia. She has joined us straight from University and she represents the new face of the prison system. We are hoping to teach her that the tried and trusted methods still have lot to recommend them."

I felt just a little sorry for her. I Imagined her as a bright eyed idealist and I wondered how long it would be before her spirit was broken but even as I was processing this thought she confounded me.

Something unsaid passed between her and the deputy governor and to my consternation she reached under her uniform to remove a white pair of panties.

"Think of it as welcoming her to the service."

Voralia could not meet my eye but I saw enough to recognise that this was indeed her first time.

There were two guest chairs in front of the desk and, without a word, she sat down in one of them. She attempted to speak but she faltered and had to clear her throat and start again.

"Come here."

I wanted to slap her, to teach her some manners, but more than that I wanted to talk to her to try and persuade her to hold true to her own principles.

To actually try to do so would have been futile under the circumstances but I wanted her to look at me and see how wrong it was. She kept her eyes steadfastly fixed at the level of my chest.

"Down on your knees and make me come."

The words sounded so wrong from her mouth but I could also hear the excitement in her voice. Like it or not I was going to have to do as she asked.

She made no attempt to lift her skirt or otherwise move it out of the way and so I had no option other than to duck beneath it. She was wearing black stay up stockings which contrasted with the light tan of her inner thighs.

I was not sure what I was expecting, clean shaven or a heavy growth, certainly not a mix of both. Her sex itself was bare but it was surmounted by a thick, sculpted, triangle of red black hair.

More surprising still was the presence of a tattoo above her groin. It was very small and appeared to be a single word delicately formed in Sanskrit.

I was still coming to terms with this suggestion of an all together different character when she shifted forward slightly in her seat.

Her inner labia stood proud and, even as I watched, they seemed to swell slightly. Like reluctant lovers they slowly parted and a runnel of clear, viscous, moisture seeped into view. It flowed beneath her, lost to sight, but manifested itself as a quickly darkening stain on the seat of her skirt.

With a worrying sense of déjà vu I put out my tongue and gently caught up the flow from the dark fringes of her lips. In terms of femininity she was the very antithesis of her colleague and I feared that I was embracing her as a form of catharsis.

Her body trembled at my first touch, almost as if frightened, and I found myself tending to her with a becoming delicacy. I lapped her so gently that, for some seconds, we were joined only by a single drop of moisture.

She could not take it for long and she grew bolder.

"Lick me.."

It was a hoarse whisper and I was happy to comply. The strain of keeping my tongue under such tight control was beginning to tell and I welcomed the opportunity to relax a little.

I licked along the whole length of her sex opening the floodgates as I did so. She was rich with moisture and the fact that I could go at my own pace and breath normally seemed to confer upon it a honeyed sweetness.

For a few moments my mind drifted. Everyone else was shut out and it was just we two but I was snapped back to harsh reality by a sudden blaze of light.

There was an angle-poise lamp on the desk and the deputy governor had positioned it so that it shone directly on me before switching it on.

Voralia, too, was taken by surprise but her skirt still did something to protect her modesty and she quickly readjusted. She put a hand to the back of my head to ensure that I did not stop and then she settled once more.

She came quickly after that, as if fearing that she would be denied, but apart from a slightly increased tension in her body and a sudden wetness there was no obvious sign.

Then I realised that she was going to be greedy. The others remained unaware as she continued to hold me in place. I suppose I could have objected but what would have been the point. I think that even if they had known they would have indulged her anyway.

For some minutes her sex was relaxed and continued to leak but the efforts of my aching tongue were eventually rewarded. She squeezed me with her thighs and I took this as a signal that she was ready.

I eased onto her clitoris but this placed my nose in the tight bush of curls at the summit. It was heavily laden with her scent and every movement increased its potency.

I feared that, even now, it would take her some time to come but I underestimated the degree of excitement that she felt in simply having me there to do her bidding.

It was just as well. The heat beneath the close confines of her heavy skirt, exacerbated by the proximity of the lamp, was getting to me.

Her clitoris was well hidden but she was so sensitized that the mere pressure of my tongue was enough. As her climax took her she stretched her legs and crossed her ankles behind my back. She then applied a steady and consistent pressure until it was over and she had no more to give.

Chapter 5

I was escorted back to my cell where I lay on my bunk and absent mindedly squeezed my training shoe. I had decided that, for better or worse, I was going to bring things to a head.

I idled in the showers the following morning and waited for Simmons to appear. No one came near me and I reckoned that I had a couple of days before anyone would try again.

I was pleased to see that Simmons came in alone but she panicked as I approached her.

"Please, I can't be seen with you."

"You don't have to be. Just answer me one question. Which cell is Cheng in?"

She blanched at the question.

"How do you know about her?"

"You don't need to know. Just answer the question."

She looked around at the empty shower room and I could see she was trembling.

"She's in 204...I have to go."

She left without showering and I gave it a few moments before following her out.

I quickly established that I could not get to 204 until I was in a shared cell and so I had to endure another frustrating twenty-four hours. I took my meals at a separate table in the dining room and I was pleased to see that my reputation had preceded me. The other inmates were wary and unsure what to make of me.

The next morning, in the shower block, my antennae twitched; so much so that I contented myself with a wash. I was reasonably confident that, if anyone tried anything, the warders would now intervene but it was better to be safe than sorry.

I turned to leave only to see Simmons come into the room. She looked very scared. With her eyes fixed to the floor she walked into the middle of the room and stood stock still.

I half expected to see her erstwhile friends come in behind her but the woman who entered was hewn from a different stone. I had studied her file for days and felt that I already knew her.

If asked to describe a psychopath this is not the picture that would come to mind. She was of medium height with a slight build but her superb muscle tone was obvious from the easy way that she held herself. She had flat, oriental, features but her large eyes and full mouth gave her an almost ethereal beauty.

In another world she could have been a geisha but since her incarceration she was known to be responsible for one murder and at least two brutal beatings. She had also been clever enough to distance herself from all three incidents.

"Someone was asking for Cheng."

It was an American accent completely devoid of emotion.

I waited for the space of a few heartbeats before I replied and I was amazed at my own state of calm.

"That would be me."

She moved closer to Simmons and looked at me askance.

"Should I know you?"

I allowed another pause before answering.

"I'm your nemesis."