Emma yawned, idly running her tongue over the new filling in her molar. It felt smooth at least, professionally done. It was Tuesday, as far as she knew – not that it mattered – and the air in the infirmary hallway was stale and reeked of a mix of industrial detergent, urine, and other, equally unpleasant odors.
From her tiny holding cage, she watched other inmates escorted to and from their cells somewhere on the sprawling prison complex. Everyone was fully restrained, of course, wearing handcuffs and leg irons, their chains scraping over the concrete floor as they shuffled through the ward.
Her status as a maximum-security prisoner had earned her a spit mask and an inflexible plastic box over her handcuffs. The black box, secured to her belly chain, supposedly prevented lock picking, but as a side effect, it made everything a lot more uncomfortable. She leaned back in her plastic chair and fidgeted with the connecting chain that ran down to her leg irons.
God, this sucks! Chained up and caged, like a goddamn animal.
“Hey!” she shouted when she saw Sergeant Gomez turn around the corner. “Can you get me out of here? I’ve been waiting forever!”
Gomez was a heavyset, no-nonsense Latina, a full head taller than her. Officer Miller, one of the geniuses from D-wing, followed her at a respectful distance.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, princess,” Gomez said, unlocking the cage door. “Damn. Did you piss yourself?”
“Not my fault, they didn’t let me out to pee.” Emma glanced down at her soaked red jumpsuit. The fabric felt clammy and cold against her skin. “Six hours in this cage for half an hour with the dentist! I’m cold and my fucking wrists hurt! Whoever does the scheduling in this place is an idiot.”
Gomez sighed. “Amen to that. How did it go with the dentist?”
“Pretty good.” Emma yawned again, shuffling along with Miller’s hand on her upper arm. “I’m still a bit loopy from the painkillers. He gave me the good stuff. Which is fair, considering he kept staring at my tits.”
“He did? Do you want a complaint form?”
Emma turned her head. “What? No! If I didn’t want guys to stare, I wouldn’t have gotten that boob job.”
“Oh?” Gomez stood to take a closer look. “They’re fake? They look pretty real to me.”
“Why, thank you!” Emma winked, wiggling her breasts. “It’s quality work. Wasn’t cheap.”
Gomez grabbed her upper arm, and Emma shuffled along until they reached the elevator. The infirmary was on the seventh floor of the eastern administrative building, a depressing concrete fortress at the edge of the prison complex.
“Got them for your husband?” Gomez asked after calling the elevator. “When things were still good between you two?”
“No, that was a gift to myself for my thirtieth birthday. I’d never get surgery for a guy.”
Miller scoffed. “It’s you who performs the surgery, huh. I still can’t believe you cut the man’s dick off.”
“So?” Emma shrugged, toying with her chain. “He was cheating on me. When he married me, he knew I’m the jealous type. And I did warn him.”
“Cutting a man’s dick off with the turkey shears,” Miller said, dragging her into the elevator. “Kinda extreme, don’t you think?”
Gomez shrugged. “If he was fucking around…”
“He testified during the trial that she was cheating, too. I read it on the news.”
“Cause and effect,” Emma said. “He cheated first. I mean, I think he did. It kinda escalated after he reeked of that other slut’s perfume.” She rolled her eyes. “His executive assistant, what a cliché. He didn’t even get creative, just stuck his dick into the first hole in reach.”
“You’re lucky they were able to sew it back on,” Gomez said. “The judge would have given you a lot more than nine years if he’d stayed dickless.”
Emma sighed. “Couldn’t even manage that.”
Outside in the yard, the sky was overcast and gray. Two rows of fences, topped with razor wire surrounded the compound. Armed guards, clutching their automatic rifles, stood on high concrete towers. She always wondered if they’d shoot if she stepped on the lawn.
Emma stopped. “Hey, can I go to the bathroom real quick?”
“Now you’re telling us? We just left the goddamn building,” Miller said. He gestured at Emma’s crotch. “Besides, you already went.”
“Yeah, but now I have to poop.”
“Forget it, princess,” Gomez said, dragging her along. “You can do it in your cell. You’ll be home in five minutes.”
“I’m not gonna wait five minutes.”
“You’ll have to. Going back to admin isn’t any quicker.”
“It’s like I’m on the road with my fucking husband. When I say pull over, you better pull over.” Emma smirked, feeling the pressure in her bowels. “I’ll go in my pants. Don’t think I won’t do it.”
Gomez wasn’t moved. “I’ve got three kids; I’m not afraid of poopy pants. You’ll need a new uniform anyway.”
“Okay then. Remember I asked.”
Emma grunted, letting go of a long, wet fart. Her asshole bloomed open, and she pushed the contents of her bowels into the cheap, prison-provided underwear. A feeling of relief washed over her. The warm, brown mush strained against the fabric, making it bulge out.
Oh God, yes! That’s exactly what I needed.
Miller let go of her arm and took a step to the right. “You’re really shitting your pants, you crazy bitch?”
Emma grinned, pushing more warm mush into her panties. “I thought you were following my trial. I’m not crazy. Two shrinks testified to that.”
He coughed. “God, that smells awful.”
“Oh, pull yourself together, Miller,” Gomez said. “If you’re squeamish about shit, corrections isn’t the job for you.” She grabbed Emma. “Are you done? Can we go?”
“I’m feeling a lot better now.”
On the tower to the right, one of the guards was watching her through his binoculars. She blew him a kiss and waved with her cuffed hands. He didn’t wave back. Shifting her weight, she shook her butt to make the mess spread further. It was a lot more and a lot runnier than she had expected.
Miller retched, still keeping his distance. “Look at that! The stuff’s running down her pant leg.”
“The ankle cuffs will stop it,” Gomez said. She pulled Emma along. “You had your fun. Let’s go; I don’t have all day.”
Emma laughed. “Come on, Miller! Don’t puke on us.” She giggled. “Want me to suck your dick to make up for it, handsome?”
“You’re officially the first one who called Miller handsome,” Gomez said dryly, tightening her grip on Emma’s arm. “You’ll make the poor guy blush.”
Walking again, with her chains clinking, Emma glanced at the row of small outdoor cages where the men from maximum security had their yard time. Half of them were topless, doing pushups and lifting weights. She felt a flutter in her stomach and a tingle in her clit.
“Last night, I dreamed you guys took me to A-wing,” she said, almost stumbling over her leg irons. “I held my butt against the bars of those cages and let them go to town on me. One after the other, cunt and ass. Seriously, I’m so desperate, I’d even fuck Miller. I haven’t had a good, hard dick in almost three years.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have chopped off the last one,” Gomez said, clearly amused, “And for the record, seduction works better when you don’t have a huge lump of shit in your pants.”
“Don’t say that.” Emma turned her head and grinned at Miller. “My husband was really into it. I’d get down on my knees and poop myself while he pushed his dick down my throat. You have no idea how wet that gets me.”
Miller coughed again. “Really?”
“She’s pulling your leg, Miller. Don’t be so fucking gullible.”
The basement of D-wing was the end of the line for all kinds of troublemakers. Under the familiar, harsh fluorescent lights, Emma shuffled faster the closer they got to the last cell on the hallway.
Home was Cell D-18, a tiny room of two by three meters: a bare, windowless tomb with a bunk bed, a sink and a toilet as the only furniture. Personal effects, books, and even the collection of tattered old magazines had been confiscated months ago. Other than the thin plastic mattresses and a roll of toilet paper, there was nothing left to take away.
Gomez peered through the narrow, glazed slot in the cell door. Marissa, a curvy twenty-six-year-old blonde bank robber, lay on the top bunk, her perky breasts bare and her right hand down her jumpsuit, as usual. Except for half an hour of yard time a day in full restraints, there was little else to do.
Gomez banged on the door. “Stop polishing your pearl and take your position.”
“Honey, I’m home!” shouted Emma, shifting her weight to make her chains jingle. “How was your day?”
“Same old, same old,” Marissa shouted back. “I came like seven times. Saved you a sandwich and a pudding.” She jumped off the bed and took her position on her knees, hands on her head, facing the back wall. “Did they fix your tooth?”
“Yep. And the painkillers were really the good stuff. Five stars.”
Gomez waited for a moment, then grabbed her radio. “Open D-18.”
The heavy door buzzed open, and Emma shuffled inside. Without being prompted, she got down on her knees, waiting for Miller to take off the uncomfortable restraints she had worn for hours.
“Oh, the sweet smell of pussy. I love coming home to that,” Emma said as the padlock in the small of her back snapped open. The instant the black box unhooked from the belly chain, she felt a profound sense of relief. “Wait until my handcuffs are off. I’m gonna finger-bang you until you squirt, you slut!”
“Promises, promises.” Marissa turned her head and sniffed. “Ohhh, what’s that stink? Did you poop your panties again, you dirty little piggy?”
“Sure did. You should have seen Miller’s face; it was hilarious.” Emma grinned, rubbing her smarting wrists. “Sweetie, I haven’t pooped this much since that taco incident. Are you gonna lick me clean? It’s still warm and mushy, just the way you like it.”
“Do you even have to ask?” Marissa giggled. “You show me your fat, fake udders, and then I’m gonna eat your pussy and your shitty ass!”
“You two are disgusting,” Miller said, collecting the pile of restraints. “Sarge, can’t we just split them up? This is getting ridiculous.”
Gomez scoffed. “And have two cells that stink like a sewer? You really are a genius.” She held the door. “Go and get a change of clothes and an extra towel. For both of them. And you two, you’re on lockdown for the rest of the week.”
“What day is it?” Marissa asked, still on her knees.
“Thursday.”
“Okay, thanks, Sarge.” Her eyes sparkled as she turned her head. “If you’d excuse us now, I wanna get started while it’s still nice and warm.”
By the time Gomez slammed the cell door shut, Marissa already had her hands on Emma’s butt, squeezing the mess that had soaked through the red jumpsuit.
She gave Emma a long, deep kiss. “Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. And I love how you always come back to me.”
“Because I missed you, sweetie,” Emma whispered, feeling her nipples harden. She ripped her front buttons open, baring her braless breasts. “But I guess we’re never getting out early for good behavior.”
“Fuck it. Let’s get dirty before Miller comes back.”