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Captain Gretchen Kramer was a fourth generation American of German origin, whose family had become successful despite having murky antecedents. In fact, her great grandparents had both been guards at Ravensbruck Concentration camp where they had been notorious for the cruelties they inflicted on the unfortunate women imprisoned there, but had managed to escape via Argentina before becoming US citizens.
Gretchen had studied some of the papers her great grand parents had left behind, and it was no coincidence that the Prison Farm was organised on Nazi lines, a very efficient and economic system which she had convinced Joan Tree to adopt as well as putting Gretchen in control.
The Prison was based on the barrack system, twenty or thirty women in each barrack with a barrack leader selected from among the prisoners given day to day control reporting to a designated staff member who in turn reported to Gretchen. This system had the benefits of reducing the number of permanent staff required and combined with a draconian disciplinary system proved to be very successful.
On a personal note Gretchen was an imposing physical specimen, a tall ,powerful typical example of Germanic womanhood with bisexual tastes although her position at Hicks gave her ample opportunity to exercise her preference for hurting and dominating young attractive women.
Now Gretchen looked at the five naked women displaying themselves for her approval, at one end there was the recidivist, Molly Smith, the tattooed and pierced specimen whose sadism had made her such an efficient block leader during her last incarceration. She would come in useful again, and while the three women in the middle of the line were of little interest, the brunette at the other end of the line certainly was. Gretchen stood in front of Barb and looked her up and down noting the toned, shapely body and the signs of arousal, and without warning, she clamped each of Barb`s nipples between a steely thumb and forefinger, Barb immediately lowered her arms and placed her hands gently on Gretchen`s wrists in token protest.
"Hands back on your head, girl." and before Barb could comply, she twisted the swollen tender nubs upwards and outwards, causing Barb to rise up on tiptoes and emit a pitiful mewling sound After a few seconds, Gretchen released her grip, leaving Barb, with tears trickling down her cheeks, to replace her hands, she had learned enough. Although she did inspect the reporter`s curvy buttocks which were beginning to show signs of the bruising caused by Marylou`s hard and heavy hand. Marylou was right, she would certainly have fun with this one, the only problem would be Warden Tree, who would no doubt want the woman herself.
"Sergeant, take these miserable specimens to Reception, get them booked in, then onto the Bath House for cleansing and issue their uniforms."
"Yes . ma`am, You lot pick up your baskets and follow me."
The five naked women followed the sergeant into Reception, where she noted their details and relieved them of their meagre belongings.
"Now to the Hydrotherapy Room ." she cackled and led them into a large tiled room fitted with a number of gang showers, but of more concern to Barb was the ancient Gyno chair and the two other sergeants with shaving brushes and bowls of soapy water who were waiting there.
"The Warden insists on bald pussies, she`s a stickler for cleanliness and thinks a bare pussy good for a prisoner`s soul. You`re first Moore, climb up, don`t be shy."
Barb thought about protesting, but after seeing the steely look in the sergeant`s eyes and the movement to unhook the cruel looking switch hanging from her belt, decided discretion was the better part of valour.
"Good girl. you don`t want to be on report on you first day."
Once in the chair, Barb`s public mound and perineum were lathered with soapy water and she was shaved completely, losing her small landing strip and whatever stubble had grown on her slit, again, to her shame, she was embarrassed by her obvious arousal, and lost in her reverie, needed a sharp slap on the thigh to get her out of the chair. Her four companions were all treated to the same procedure until the sergeant was satisfied with the five bald mounds.
"Right, ladies, clean up time."
She handed each prisoner a green bar of strong carbolic soap and turned on the water supply which flowed from the six shower heads at the back of the room.
"Listen up, I want those cunts and assholes squeaky clean and pay particular attention to under your tits. If we have to do it for you we`ll use scrubbing brushes, so get to it."

TBC
 
Barb shivered under the cold water cascading down from the shower and found it difficult to get the antiseptic soap to lather.
"Sergeant, why is there no hot water?
"Because this a prison you dumb bitch and you are not here to be pampered. You just make sure that sloppy snatch is clean when I inspect it or I`ll scrub it with a wire brush."
After a few minutes, the water was turned off and the prisoners each given a small threadbare towel which made it very difficult to thoroughly dry themselves, but when they all seemed to be dry, the Sergeant ordered them to line up again and proceeded to carry out a cursory inspection of each one, until it was Barb`s turn, then she took hold of her right nipple and lifted the breast as high as it would go and repeated the process with the left breast, causing Barb to whimper in pain.
"Mmmmm, Clean under there. Now, Moore, spread those legs and grab your ankles."
Barb obeyed, and the Sergeant then ran her fingers along the exposed and damp labia.
"You`re lucky Moore, we`ve got to get you into uniform before the Captain and the Warden come to interview you, otherwise I`d scrub that disgusting cunt raw."

The issuing of uniforms was a straightforward affair, each prisoner was tossed an old thin, grey cotton dress which had been laundered countless times, with no consideration as to whether or not it fitted. Barb found hers was quite a tight fit across the bust and her braless nipples were apparent whilst it was short in length, reaching only to mid thigh, even worse, on the back were stencilled the words "Prisoner" and "Hicks County".
"What about underwear Sergeant?
"Underwear, Underwear, prisoners don`t get underwear, Moore. It helps you know your place in the scheme of things and makes it so much easier when we need to whup your sorry asses."
The shoe issue was a little more refined, but only just, each prisoner was asked her shoe size and then allowed to choose the best fit from two or three pairs of well worn Mary Janes.
The process had just finished when Captain Kramer returned accompanied by Warden Tree, another striking well preserved blonde with piecing steel blue eyes which exuded menace and potential cruelty.
"Prisoners. Attention." snapped the Sergeant
Warden Tree cast an icy gaze over the five unfortunate women standing before her and then began her standard intake speech.
"You women have been sent here because you have committed crimes for which society demands retribution, and we insure that you make that retribution with hard and productive labour, and in order to provide some form of rehabilitation we have a strict disciplinary code.
As far as the labour is concerned, you will each be allocated to one of the three barracks, and will work as a group under the barrack leader, one of your number responsible to the Barrack Sergeant and chosen by Captain Kramer. your hours of work will be from sunrise to sunset seven days a week in a healthy outdoor environment.
With regards to discipline, you obey all orders instantly and without question, you address your Barrack leader as "Miss" the Sergeants as "Sergeant" and Captain Kramer and myself as "Ma`am"
Be aware that any breaches of discipline, whether for failure to obey instantly, shortcomings in etiquette or work performance, are likely to be rewarded with corporal punishment, which may be applied instantly by any of your superiors. For serious offences more formal punishments such as public floggings or time in the hot box will be awarded by Captain Kramer or myself. Over to you Captain Kramer."

"I think it is time that we gave you a little demonstration of what you can expect. Step forward Moore."


TBC.
 
With mounting trepidation, Barb took two paces forward, her mind was racing. Why had she allowed Sharp to talk her into this assignment? Was it a cunning ploy to get her out of the way while he established himself as managing editor? Was he aware of her innate masochism? Did he suspect that she was easily aroused by her fixation with pain and humiliation?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Captain Kramer, "The first implement you will certainly become acquainted with, we call `the starter`, it is two feet long and comprises of four lengths of plaited cow hide. It is carried by our Sergeants and Barrack leaders who may use it at their discretion, Sergeant Brown would you care to demonstrate?"
"Certainly, Ma`am. Moore, spread your legs and touch your toes."
Barb reluctantly obeyed, only too aware that her short, thin dress had ridden up to the base of her buttocks, but worse was to follow, the sergeant gripped the hem of the skirt and turned it over the bare back, finally bunching it under Barb`s armpits.
"Now, Moore, don`t let those fingers leave your toes under any circumstances."
With that, she stepped back, raised the starter and then lashed the bare buttocks with all her force. The effect was electrifying, her victim let out an horrendous shriek, straightened up and danced from toe to toe clutching her tortured flesh.
"Pathetic, Moore. You were warned. Back in position now, this could go on all night if you don`t get a grip"
A dispirited Barb resumed her humiliating posture, and the sergeant again folded back the dress to reveal a fiery welt across the fullest part of her bent ass. The remaining prisoners, who had been sniggering at the undignified performance of their colleague, grew silent as they observed the effect of the starter.
"Once again, Moore, keep those fingers in place." was the order before the sergeant again mercilessly lashed the exposed nates.
This time, after summoning every last ounce of resolution, Barb held her position, but in addition to the fiery pain in her backside she was only too aware of the copious tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto the backs of her hands.

"Stay down, Moore, we`re not done with you yet" said Captain Kramer.
"Now, ladies, for serious breaches of discipline you will be punished before your assembled fellow prisoners in the square with one or both of the following implements. The first is our famous Prison Strap, a double length of toughened cowhide glued and stitched together and kept supple with saddle soap, it is believed to have first seen light of day in the Arkansas Women`s reformatory in 1925, so is no stranger to female flesh, the blade is thirty inches long and four inches wide and it hurts like hell, as Moore will soon confirm.
The second is our penal grade cane, a forty two inches long half inch diameter length of seasoned Rattan grown in the Malacca Straits and regarded in some far Eastern countries as the ultimate deterrent for the most hardened of male criminals, it is capable of inflicting extreme agony.
We are traditionalists here, so leather is applied in multiples of five and rattan in multiples of six. Don`t worry , Moore, you will only get one of each on this occasion, but tradition demands you receive them naked, so get out of that uniform at the double. As you would normally be strapped to the punishment frame or the whipping post for this type of punishment, you can bend over the table."

With this, Captain Kramer picked up the heavy strap and the cane which she handed to the Warden. In the meantime, realising the hopelessness of her
situation, Barb crossed her arms, gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it up and off. The sergeant pushed the table into place and ordered,
"Bend over the table, Moore ,feet outside the back legs and grip the front legs as if your life depended on it."

With no other option Barb slowly complied, only too conscious of her vulnerability.
Captain Kramer made her way to stand behind the naked Barb and viewed the cruelly marked flesh. The two welts left by the sergeant`s starter were exactly four inches apart on the crown of the buttocks and determined the Captain`s target.
"By the way, Moore, you would normally be restrained so there will be no penalty for any reaction."

The Captain then wound her arm back and brought the strap down with brutal force, filling in the gap between the existing welts with an angry red band of pain which caused Barb to scream, rise up on her toes and try to massage the fiery pain from her butt.

"Hurts, doesn`t it , Moore, still we haven`t got time to waste. Back into position, now."

As the weeping, disconsolate Barb bent again over the table, Joan Tree moved behind her, flexing the dreadful cane with her powerful hands and voraciously eyeing the tortured band of angry red flesh left by the strap.
She raised the cane high above her shoulder, half turned and then drove the rod into the centre of the band of agony. Barb emitted a heart rending cry before sinking back onto the table weeping uncontrollably, neither knowing or caring that her well marked bottom was causing so much concern to her fellow prisoners.

"There you have it ladies, can you imagine what twenty with the strap or eighteen with the cane would feel like? Doesn`t bear thinking about does it? So make sure you behave yourselves. Sergeant, get these sorry specimens to their Barrack. "

"All except Moore, Sergeant. Have her brought to my quarters." said Joan Tree.

TBC.
 
Captain Gretchen Kramer, although outwardly calm, was seething, she was not going to have first use of the prisoner Moore, which was galling, if inevitable, after all, the entire system at the Prison Farm was hierarchical, largely of her own designing, and Joan Tree was at the apex of that system. She reconciled herself with the thought that the Sergeants were probably thinking the same about her, and the Barrack Leaders the same about the Sergeants.
The women who ended up at Hicks were usually ill educated, lower class dropouts covered in tattoos and piercings, with eating disorders and drug or alcohol addictions, so on the rare occasions when they got their hands on a beautiful, smart, well educated woman like Moore, it would be so enjoyable to put her through her paces before Joan Tree had broken her spirit.
She glanced at Moore, who was walking stiffly alongside her towards the Warden`s quarters, the tight thin skirt must be chafing the welts on her shapely ass. If she thought her treatment had been harsh, well was she in for rude awakening. As they approached the front door, Gretchen thought that there was no harm in trying a little damage control.
"Look, Moore, the Warden is a hard, cruel woman who demands total submission, and if you know what`s good for you, you won`t resist her and dance on her every word."
Actually, this wasn`t strictly true, Joan liked her victims to put up a strong resistance so she could exercise her full range of cruelties before tossing the unfortunate girl back into the system..
Gretchen rang the bell when they reached their destination, and the Warden came to the door, impressive as ever, with her blonde hair pulled back off her face and piled in a bun on top of her head, she was dressed in a white silk blouse and white chinos, but it was the ice cold blue eyes that caused a trembling Barbara the most concern, she still bore the memory of that ferocious cane stroke across her poor bottom.

"Thank you, Gretchen, bring the little slut in and let me have a good look at her."
"Good, that will be all, I`ll see you tomorrow."

Gretchen, realising she had been dismissed said goodnight and beat a strategic retreat.

"So, Moore, our little Chicago reporter, yes I know what you are, you made the mistake of under estimating us, thinking we are ignorant red necks down here, well, that mistake could have serious consequences for you. Were you and that idiot Sharp so stupid that you thought I wouldn`t do some serious checking when a smart educated gal like you turned up in Hicksville?"

"The question is what do we do with you now? Well, first you can strip, I want to see what you`ve got."

Barb`s face was ashen, she was completely shaken by this turn of events, now here she was, a long way from home and completely at the mercy of this blonde sadist and her subordinates, and for once speechless.

"I said strip, if you`re not naked in ten seconds I`ll take the rest of the skin off your ass."

Barb had no choice, she quickly removed the thin prison dress and shoes and then covered her pubes with one hand and drew the other arm across her bosom.

"Are you shitting me girl? Legs three feet apart, fingers laced behind your head and pull those elbows right back."

Once Barb had adopted this submissive pose, Joan began her inspection She cupped Barb`s chin with one hand and examined the normally lovely face which was still blotchy and tearstained from the earlier ordeal. Apparently satisfied, she then handled each breast in turn, weighing it as if she were inspecting produce at a market stall. "Nice tits, Moore." Her hands then moved lower and she ran her fingers along the damp labia and tweaked the erect clitoris with her thumb. "As I suspected, you are enjoying this, you randy little slut."
She then moved behind her victim to inspect the tight round little buttocks, only marred by the angry purple four inch band across their crown, in the centre of which was the distinctive twin tracked cane wheal from which tiny beads of blood were oozing. With a wolfish grin on her face, she gripped the tortured flesh with both hands and squeezed as hard as she could. The effect on Barb was dramatic her toes curled and she let out a distressing cry of pain.

Joan then moved over to an armchair, slipped off her chinos and thong and spread her legs wide revealing her blonde fleece.
"Down here on your knees, Moore, let`s see if that tongue is good for something other than mouthing off."

TBC.
 
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twonines said:
you made the mistake of under estimating us, thinking we are ignorant red necks down here
Click to expand...
Well, yeah! Everyone knows that.

twonines said:
Were you and that idiot Sharp so stupid that you thought I wouldn`t do some serious checking when a smart educated gal like you turned up in Hicksville?"
Click to expand...

Don’t underestimate Sharp. His name says it all.
 
Barbara Moore was no stranger to having sex with other women, but it was usually with friends and women from a similar social circle exploring each others bodies and reaching a mutual climax. She did occasionally fantasise about submitting to a dominant alpha female, but had never actually tried it in reality. She was nervous, and aware of her obvious arousal, as she gingerly made her way to obediently kneel between Joan`s widely spread thighs, and what`s more, she knew that Joan was also aware of it.
Joan Tree reached out her right hand and wound her steely fingers in Barb`s lustrous locks with an unbreakable grip, lifting her captive`s head until their eyes met, Barb`s apprehensive brown eyed gaze contrasting with the implacable blue eyed stare of the Warden.

"Listen carefully, Moore, as things stand at the moment, I plan to have you publicly flogged tomorrow, you have one chance of saving yourself and it hinges on whether or not I`m satisfied with your performance over the next few minutes, and I mean really SATISFIED.?"
"Get my drift?"

With that, she forced the hapless reporter`s head deep into her blonde crotch. Barb was horrified, but had no choice, and knew what she had to do. She was pleasantly surprised, Joan`s trimmed blonde thatch was clean, and actually had a slight smell of lavender water, and she managed to part the blonde hair with her tongue and gently stimulate the moist inner labia, causing the dominant woman to become more and more aroused.
"Way to go, Moore. Suck My clit. Suck my clit." cried Joan, before coming to an explosive climax leaving some of her juices on Barb`s face.

Both women were temporarily exhausted by their efforts, but it was not long before Joan barked, "Who told you to stop, Moore."
Joan was insatiable, and Moore had no choice but to bring her tormentor to a climax on two more occasions,

Joan stood up, stripped off the rest of her clothes, grabbed Barb by her ear and marched her off to the shower room where she forced her under the running warm water before joining her. Barb was glad to have her first warm shower since leaving Chicago, although she did not appreciate the intrusive groping of Joan`s steely fingers, which seemed to be everywhere, paying particular attention to the band of bruised flesh on her buttocks, twisting the tumescent nipples and pinching the erect clitoris much to her evident discomfort and Joan`s evil delight.

When their showering was complete, Joan ordered Barb to follow her into what she referred to as her play room where there were racks of whips and canes and restraint devices among which was an obviously antique oak framework.

"Mount up, girl."
Barb obediently climbed onto the frame and offered up her wrists and ankles and allowed the Warden to secure her firmly to it in bent posture with her legs widely spread.
"Please don`t flog me, Ma`am" Barb pleaded.
"I`m not going to flog you today, this isn`t a punishment frame, it`s an old family heirloom saved from the antebellum Tree estate. It is in fact, a breeding frame where the Nigra gals were secured to allow the bucks to service them. In a few minutes you`ll be having a visitor."

"No, No No" screamed Barb. "Yes, Yes Yes." replied Joan before she left Barb to contemplate her fate.
After about ten minutes the door opened and a man entered the Play Room. Barb looked up in horror to see that it was Judge Tree the bastard who had sentenced her.

TBC>
 
His Honour Judge H.T.Tree was in happy and relaxed mood, things had gone well in Court today, another three women sentenced to thirty days apiece on the Prison Farm, he had eaten well at dinner and consumed a fair quantity of Seagram`s Whiskey and now on arrival at the Farm he was confronted by that mouthy Chicago girl, Moore, stark naked on the old family breeding frame. Good old Joan, did she mistakenly think it was his birthday.
He walked round the helpless beauty taking in the extent of her naked charms, the pendant breasts with the bullet nipples, the shapely ass with the angry band of pain across its centre, if he was honest, he was surprised she hadn`t earned herself more lashes than that.
He squeezed the painfully bruised flesh, and Moore cried out in pain, that will teach the little slut, he thought, before running his long fingers over her blatantly presented, cleanly shaven labia.

"Not so fast, brother, come to my office, we need to talk first"

"Why? What`s up, Joan?"

"This bitch is a reporter for Crux Chronicle and she`s down here to expose us. Don`t worry, I already have things in hand, her boss Sharp has been bribed to say that she has taken her annual vacation, and tomorrow,, she`s going to write her resignation and a load of post cards which we will drip feed to him, so nobody will question her absence. He thinks she`s a stuck up pain in the ass and is happy to be rid of her."

"I gave her 120 days, so we`ve plenty of time to decide what to with her. I have contacts in Mexico who are ready to buy pussy at the right price, and then there`s always opportunities in the Middle East for white slave girls. I`ll get on it tomorrow, but tonight I`m going to fuck her, and in a way that will take all the starch out of her, and make it easier to get her to sign that resignation letter tomorrow."

"Good, after we get her to sign the stuff we need tomorrow, I`ll let Gretchen have her, I know she`s got plans for her, and when she`s had her way, I`ll ensure that she works the little slut so hard she won`t know whether she`s coming or going."


"Good, that`s settled then. Joan, you still got that whalebone switch? Well, bring it with you and find me some butter."

The Trees re-entered the Playroom, the Judge with an evil grin on his face carrying a tub of butter and Joan purposefully flexing her long whalebone switch.

Tree went to stand in front of the naked Barb, who was firmly secured to the breeding frame, arms and legs widely spread. He bent so that his angry face was only inches away from hers

"Listen to me, Miss smart ass. You think you are clever coming down here to make trouble and then showing contempt in my Court, well there is a price to be paid. I`m going to take my pecker out and you are going to suck it until it`s hard, don`t even think of refusing, or my sister will cut that that tight little ass to ribbons.
Open up and get to work."

Knowing her position was hopeless, Barb reluctantly took the flaccid penis between her lips and began to work it, getting it ever harder, despite her disgust and feelings of nausea, until it was fully erect.

"Ever see the movie `Last Tango in Paris.`, Moore? If you did, you`ll know what`s coming next. If not, you`re in for a surprise."

With that, he moved behind the helpless woman, removed the lid from the tub of butter, scooped out a portion with two fingers and began to massage it into the buttock cheeks, finally inserting a butter coated finger to lubricate the tight rosebud anus.

"No, no, you bastard you can`t do that. Fuck you, you bastard."

Barb had a distinct aversion to anal sex after a few painful sorties with earlier lovers, and now here she was helpless on this breeding frame, about to be raped by this cruel bastard, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Tree parted her cheeks and presented his glans to her anus. It took a few seconds to gain entry, and then a few more before he got past her sphincter and despite her pitiful pleas, he fucked her with long hard strokes. For the next few moments , the air was filled with Tree`s grunting and panting and Barb`s cries of distress until he ejaculated and withdrew his now limp penis, leaving the gaping anus dripping with his semen and a light trickle of blood.

Barb was a broken woman ,just hanging limply on the frame, her body wracked with sobs and her tear stained face a mask of agony and shame. Even Joan appeared shocked at what just taken place.

"Now, that`s the way to fuck a Blue State slut."
 
"Regarding your first point, you are right, the Tree siblings, by failing to video your sodomy, missed a glorious opportunity to increase our income stream.
As to your second, if you think that I am not capable of making a randy little slut sign a letter of resignation, you are making a grave mistake."

Signed-- G. Kramer. (Captain.)
 
After Tree`s brutal rape of Barb`s anus, he and his sister held a brief discussion and decided it was time to inform Gretchen Kramer of the situation and hold a Council of War. Joan phoned the Captain and gave her a brief update of recent developments, and Gretchen was soon ringing at her doorbell.
She entered the Warden`s residence, smartly dressed, as always, and bearing her portable field telephone set.

"This is the position, Gretchen, the slut, Moore, is a reporter for the Crux Chronicle, sent here to do a lurid expose of our activities. I have managed to circumvent that by having her boss, Sharp, bribed to say she is away on vacation. I`ve also got him to send me an email of her genuine signature and I`ve typed this letter of resignation, which we just need her to sign, I`m sure you can engineer that. I`m also sourcing a series of postcards from various parts of the country which we`ll have her sign over the next few weeks before we make her disappear."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"My brother here has been making some calls on his untraceable phone. and there is a guy called Cesar Montego who runs a chain of cathouses in Juarez who has shown interest, and also the Emir of somewhere or other, deep in Saudi Arabia is looking to obtain some Western pussy. That`s only the beginning.
We just need you to obtain that signature, we know you`ve had the hots for her since day one, so if you`re successful, she`s yours for the rest of the week before we put her to work, although it would be useful to produce a photographic portfolio of her charms to boost her price. Can you manage that?"

"Of course. BY the way, you know we are losing Sergeant Green and we need a replacement, well, Molly Smith is back, she was a very effective Barrack Leader the last time she was here, and if his Honour could commute her sentence, she would be ideal, happy to work for minimum wage and all the ass she can whup.. We could task her to keep Moore up to scratch for her probation period."
Where`s Moore at the moment?"

"She`s still strapped to the breeding frame, feeling sorry for herself, my brother gave her ass a good reaming earlier on. Oh, you`ll be glad to know that she`s quite an accomplished pussy licker."

"Let`s get her into your office and secure her.."

Within ten minutes, a disconsolate Barb found herself, still naked, both ankles and her left wrist strapped firmly to Joan`s office chair. Gretchen wasted no time in setting up her field telephone and gently caressing the shaven clitoral hood, releasing the throbbing clitoris to which she attached a cruel crocodile clip, bringing a cry of distress from the recipient. Gretchen attached the other clip to Barb`s left labia, again producing a pained response..

"All systems go."
" Now, Moore, we just need you to sign this letter of resignation. Of course you are going to refuse, so let me give you a little demonstration of the consequences."
With that, Gretchen cranked the handle of the field telephone. The effect on Moore was devastating, she went rigid, the veins and muscles in her neck standing out, her breasts dancing erotically and she screamed like a banshee.
Nobody could question Barb`s courage, but after last night`s sodomy, she was psychologically at a low ebb, and with the increasing length and strength of each successive jolt of electricity sending streaks of fire through the core of her womanhood, the inevitable happened. She surrendered and signed the letter of resignation.

"Mm-Mm-Mm- Mmmmm-Mm" hummed Gretchen, in a parody of the Ride of The Valkyries.

"There`s nothing like the smell of fried pussy in the morning."

TBC.
 
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