Prison Snatch

by Cairo

  She felt her clitoris swell and jut from her mons, and she moaned over a mouthful of dick. With a free hand, she unzipped her jumper. She needed to get a hand inside, needed to feel, needed to brush her fingertips over—

  “Fuckin’ slut,” he hissed over a moan; his meaty girth growing thicker than she thought humanly possible. “Swallow all that dick.”

  She gulped and bobbed her head, her jaw stretching to beyond what she thought possible. Saliva flooded all around his dick and her wet mouth felt like silky heat.

  He viciously pounded in and out of her mouth, impaling her throat with the broad head of his dick, his pelvis banging into her nose.

  She groaned and looked up at him as her hand slid down into her jumper, reaching, reaching . . . oh yes—ooh. There it was. Right there.

  She closed her eyes for only a moment to savor him, this . . . down on her knees, powerless to him (so he thought), worshipping him (the way he wanted), devouring him (to hurry this along), moaning and humming and straining over the width of him—mm, yes, yes, yes . . .

  She felt it. The swelling of his nut right below the crown, she tasted its arrival as precum glossed her tonsils. He was almost there. So much pressure building in his loins, he could barely breathe. His thighs shook from endless thrusting.

  She peered up to find his face captured in the perfect sex face—strained with pleasure and disdain and overwhelming need that pissed him off.

  He began pumping his hips more furiously. Deep. Brutal. Never-ending.

  And then he roughly grabbed her head in both of his hands and held himself down in her neck, making it unbearably difficult for her to breathe.

  “Swallow my shit,” he growled. “You worthless bitch.”

  Heaven cringed as thick heat jetted against the back of her throat and she tasted the salt. She almost swallowed on instinct, but didn’t. She let it slosh down her chin and kept sucking him, her hand easing up from out of her panties.

  His eyes were still closed as he kept rocking back and forth into her mouth, his body jerking as the remainder of his orgasm sputtered out of his dick. Before he could open his eyes and pull himself from her mouth. . .

  She’d jolted him.

  And his huge body crumpled to the floor.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  This is a Warning . . .

  “For the love of God,” the warden hissed, the blood in her face quickly draining as she held the smartphone in her hand and stared at the photos. She swiped over the screen to the next one, and then the next one. Three of them—all lewd images of Sergeant Struthers passed out on a bathroom floor; his flaccid dick flopped out of his underwear.

  The warden’s mouth tightened into an angry line and then she slumped back in her chair. “Where’d you get these?” she hissed, feeling herself drowning in a silent anger. “And where did you get this phone?” Her stomach churned. The last thing she needed was this sort of scandal right on the heels of everything else that had happened at Croydon Hill.

  Heaven matched her stare. “You’re not in the position to question me about where or how I got the phone. You shouldn’t even be worried about the phone anyway. Your concern should be Struthers. And why he’s passed out on a bathroom floor with his dick out.” She paused, tilting her head. “Now that work of art, I took myself. And believe me. Anything happens to me, I will drag this place with you along with it. Not only will you and your prison be under investigation, I will sue the drawers off you and the state.”

  The warden felt her blood boil. How dare this bitch threaten her!

  When the sergeant had finally come through, he’d awakened to a note that Heaven already had neatly prewritten and had kept on her tucked in her bra to give to him once she’d handled him—you know, just in case he’d try to retaliate.

  I have pictures of you. And of the bruises around my neck from you choking me. Come after me and I’ll post them all over the Internet. Then send copies to Angelica.

  So far he’d called out sick for the last two days, which only made him look suspicious in the warden’s eyes. Still . . .

  Heaven reached inside her bra and pulled out a plastic baggy and then tossed it up on the warden’s desk. “A little extra treat for you.”

  “What is that?” she asked repulsively as she . . . she blinked. “Are those what I think they are?”

  Heaven nodded. “Yes. His nasty cock hairs.”

  The warden blinked back her disgust. She was so sickened by all of this shit that she wanted to throw up. And then for this self-serving bitch to have the fucking audacity to come into her office and threaten her was enough to make her piss fire.

  She fucking knew it. Knew inmate Lewis was going to be trouble. From the moment she’d stepped off that bus and she’d witnessed the effect she had on inmates and officers—and even her, she fucking knew Heaven Lewis was going to be a never-ending source of angst for her.

  Heaven stood and unzipped her jumper, then slid her hands inside.

  The warden’s eyes went wide with shock. “Miss Lewis, what the hell do you think—?”

  “Lady, I am not interested in you,” she snapped, pulling out the Taser, then setting it on the warden’s desk. “You might want this.”

  “How on earth did you get this?”

  Heaven slowly shook her head. “Now, now, Warden, I may be many things. But a snitch I am not.” She took her seat, and her eyes flickered toward the phone. “Not unless you fuck with me. And then I will have every news anchor across the country eating this up. I have more pictures where these came from, in safekeeping.”

  The warden gasped. This bitch was obviously trying to destroy her. She had to be. That was the only thing the warden could come up with for how much sleep she’d lost ever since she’d arrived to her prison.

  Her nose flared, but she’d managed to fold her hands neatly together in front of her as if she were praying. It was deliberate. Lord knew she needed prayer. And she needed the strength not to lose every ounce of her self-restraint she had to keep from reaching in her desk drawer and pulling out her flask, then beating this bitch over the head with it—after she tilted it to her lips and emptied it.

  She took a slow, deliberate breath. “I need for you to tell me what happened from the beginning. Now.”

  Heaven reached up and unlatched her hair clip, and shook her hair. The warden watched as it tumbled over her shoulders.

  “Struthers sexually assaulted me,” Heaven reiterated gravelly. “He skull-fucked me. Not once, but twice. And I was afraid of him.” It was a lie, but she ran with it. She loathed him and yet had found herself sinfully aroused by him all in the same breath.

  Still, she wanted to lure her own prey in, and suck and fuck them on her terms, not have someone else try to exert his or her position and power over her. No, that didn’t work for her.

  She took a deep breath and then continued. “I didn’t feel like I had anyone I could go to, so I needed my own protection. And when he’d come into the bathroom I was cleaning, and then demanded I suck his dick, or else he was going to make my life a living hell, I knew I had to do something; especially after he choked me.” She pointed to the phone. “There’s one more picture where you can see where his handprint was around my neck. Anyway, I knew I had to protect myself, so that’s when I used the Taser on his ass.”

  The warden’s brow rose. “Yes. About that, I need to know how you got this?” She reached for it and held it by the handle.

  Heaven shook her head. “It’s not important. What matters is, I’ve turned it in to you. I only needed it for one purpose, and one purpose only. To bring him down.”

  The warden massaged her temples. She needed a damn drink, just a sippy-sip to calm her nerves. “Well, why didn’t you report what he’d been doing to you?”

  Heaven snorted. “Report it? To who? You? Another officer?” She let out a sarcastic laugh. “You know, like I do, they all stick together. Would you have believed me if I hadn’t come in here with proof?”

  “I would ha
ve conducted a thorough investigation.”

  Heaven choked back a snort. “And he would have perjured his way out of it, then eventually gone right back to being the pig he is. Who is going to believe an inmate over a sergeant, huh? You?”

  The warden shifted in her seat. Her outwardly calm and collected demeanor masked her raging inner turmoil.

  “I should fucking destroy him,” Heaven hissed. “And take you down with him. But I’m willing to make a deal. And I think we’d both like to keep this quiet. Not make a big production over a sergeant degrading and sexually assaulting inmates. This way, you get to keep your cushy job and I get to move around stress-free.”

  She sat back in her seat, and crossed her legs. “Oh, and by the way. If the cock hairs aren’t enough, I have his nut.”

  The warden gasped.

  “Yes. Right after he came in my mouth, I let most of it spill out onto my jumper, then spat the rest out into a washcloth, right before quickly taking those pictures of him and then running out of the bathroom, leaving him there sprawled out on the bathroom floor. And trust me. I will have those photos posted all over social media. ‘Hashtag Croydon Hill Runs A Sex Camp,’ ‘Hashtag Sergeant Sexually Assaults Inmates.’ Shall I continue?”

  The warden felt her hands shake. She wanted to puke her guts up.

  “You little conniving bitch.”

  Heaven let out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, I’m the conniver. I’m the bitch. But I’m not the one preying on inmates. Your sergeant is—right underneath your drunken nose. On your watch . . .”

  The warden’s jaw clenched, but she dared not give this manipulating bitch the satisfaction of a reaction. That’s what she wanted from her. She knew it.

  Heaven scowled. “All these women who he has abused in here are too fucking scared to report his ass. You want to know why, Warden? Because the bastard only preys on weak, gullible inmates who he knows he can easily manipulate and intimidate; that’s why. But, he didn’t know whom he was messing with when he shoved his dick down in my throat.

  “Here’s the thing, Warden,” Heaven said as she leaned forward in her seat. “I’m not the bitch to fuck with,” she said acidly. “And he . . . fucked . . . with me. I shot the man I loved in the back for cheating on me. So what do you think I’d do to a motherfucker who shoves his dick down my throat, and I feel nothing for him?”

  The warden’s eyes flashed with fury.

  During her years as a CO, she had overheard the rumors, that Struthers had a penchant for bullying and degrading inmates, forcing them to perform sexual acts, while also tormenting them. She had always hoped that none of it was true. She wouldn’t, couldn’t stand for this sort of behavior. She wouldn’t ruin his career, but he’d be forced to retire. She’d have to get him out of her prison, or she’d be forced to pursue other avenues. Legal repercussions. And she’d throw him under the bus before anyone had the opportunity to throw her.

  The warden cut her gaze down at her desk drawer.

  “Is that where you keep it? The vodka?”

  The warden swallowed. Even though she held Heaven’s gaze, and never flinched, her mind was in utter disarray. This dizzying bitch with all of her sexual energy—along with the damaging photos on the cell and the disturbing fact that an inmate had gotten ahold of a Taser—had all given her a pounding headache.

  The warden sighed. She finally resigned herself to the fact that Heaven had her in a very precarious position—one she didn’t like one damn bit. The last thing she needed, or wanted, was any sort of negative press, or damaging media coverage. She only had a few more years to retire; that was it. Nothing was going to get in the way of that.

  Not even this bitch.

  “Okay, Lewis,” the warden finally acquiesced. “What is it you want . . .?”

  THIRTY-NINE

  It’s Not Over . . .

  The metal door slid open, and Heaven stepped out into the large visiting room. She was immediately slapped by noise. Lots of it. Babies crying. Kids running around being unruly. Couples arguing. Family cackling. Music playing. It was all too much for her ears. She felt a headache coming on. She didn’t remember the noise level being so obnoxiously loud the last time she’d come out for a visit.

  Then again, it had been on a Wednesday night—so long ago—the last time she’d come out. And today was a Saturday visit after all—one of the busiest visiting days of the week. She made a mental note to tell whoever was here to see her to come on another day next time—if there were a next time. She felt like she’d suddenly stepped out into a world circus with all the featured attractions on site.

  Still, she had to admit, it was nice to get out from behind the other side of the metal doors to see how the outside world was living, even if she had to be mauled by Officer Clemmons again to do so. “Mm. I bet you taste real good, bitch,” she’d stage-whispered before beginning her frisk. Then she’d roughly pawed Heaven. That fucking undercover dyke-bitch made her skin crawl. She’d grabbed her breasts this time, then slyly ran her hand over her crotch, trying to squeeze the front of her pussy, while the other three COs were busy searching other inmates.

  “There’s a can of Mace with your name on it,” she’d warned. “Give me one good reason to use it. I’m begging you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, her lips barely brushing Heaven’s ear. “Seeing you drop to your knees and cry out would make my dick hard.” And then she laughed, causing Heaven’s stomach to knot. “Now get the fuck on before I deny your visit.”

  Bitch.

  “So glad to know you enjoy your job,” Heaven replied sarcastically. “Have a nice day.”

  Heaven tried to shake the negative energy, but somehow she felt herself becoming strangled by it. She wanted to maim that bitch. She sighed. Lord, help me. She wished she could have someone stomp her wrists, and break every fucking bone in her hands. Slicing her eyeballs out with an ice pick would be an added bonus.

  Suddenly, Heaven smiled. She had something to look forward to.

  She quickly scanned the crowded room for her visitor. Her eyes unexpectedly welled with tears when she spotted who had come to see her. Her cousin.

  Bianca.

  They hadn’t seen each other since her wedding. Nor had they spoken. When Heaven had gotten arrested, she’d wanted to reach out to her cousin while she was in the county jail, but her pride wouldn’t let her. She’d been too embarrassed. Ashamed.

  Bianca had warned her about Freedom. Warned her to be careful getting involved with him. And she should have listened. Her cousin hadn’t liked him from the moment she’d met him.

  Heaven didn’t really think she’d come see her. Still, she’d put her name down on her visitor’s card thirty days after she’d arrived at Croydon Hill.

  And now here she was.

  Bianca saw Heaven coming toward her and stood, smiling. The two women embraced, rocking side-to-side, so happy to see the other. Once they finally peeled apart from each other and took their seats, Bianca looked her cousin over.

  “You look so good, girl . . .”

  Heaven smiled. “Yeah. In spite of everything.”

  Bianca leaned in closer. Her skin was glowing. She looked amazingly beautiful. “How are you holding up in here? Are they treating you all right?”

  Heaven glanced around the visiting area. She spotted that CO bitch from 4 East huddled at the registration desk with officer Banks talking and laughing. Over on the other side was Rasputia’s twin brother, Officer Alvin, looking over in her direction with his sidekick—the tall, light-skinned officer with the big nose.

  He was attractive, and she had a thing for big-nosed men. She made a mental note to find out more about him. She still needed a few good—well, no-good men—to help make her stay more bearable.

  She could have sworn he licked his lips at her. She kept from licking her lips back, and shifted in her seat. “I’m okay, considering.” She shrugged. “It’s prison. What can I say? There are good days and bad days. I simply try to make the best out of a screwed-up si
tuation.”

  Bianca nodded, and reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you during the whole ordeal. I came to visit you in the county twice, but I was told you denied both visits.”

  Heaven dabbed a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry,” she said remorsefully. “I just didn’t want to see anybody there. I guess I was still in shock over the whole thing. I mean. I knew what I’d done. I just couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. I guess I was kind of in shock—still.”

  Bianca slowly nodded. She understood. “It’s okay, cuz. I’m here for you now. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach me.”

  Heaven smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, and . . . before I forget. I put some money in your account. Four-hundred dollars. I hope it’s enough. I called and asked if I could bring in a money order, but they told me I had to do it on J-something.”

  “JPay,” Heaven said. “And, yes, that’s more than enough. Thank you so much. Now enough about me.” Heaven leaned back in the plastic chair. “How is that fine man of yours, and those adorable boys?”

  She eyed her cousin as she beamed, feeling a tinge of envy seep through her veins. She loved Bianca, and was genuinely happy that she’d found love. Before she’d met Garrett—six feet, four inches of milk chocolate—she had been a self-proclaimed man-handler, as she liked to call herself. A nympho and ho, rotating the men in her life, like a set of used tires. But all it had taken was the right man, at the right time with the right amount of patience to change all that.

  Bianca had met her husband, Garrett, through her brother, Tyler. They were both New Jersey State Troopers who’d been close friends for years.

  “Oh, Garrett is fine. That man wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant.” She laughed, rubbing her stomach. “But I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.”

  Heaven gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Ohmygod! You’re expecting again?”

  Bianca smiled and nodded.

  “That’s great news. Congratulations. How far along are you?”