like one of those contracts Barb never reads, the ones with very small print on the back
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Trabbian Justice Jungle Hell
- Thread starter windar
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windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 10 –Priya’s First Night in Prison
After dinner, the prisoners made their way to their barracks. The 3 foreign women had a section curtained off with sheets and other salvaged fabrics, as all the work crews did. Priya found an empty cot and brought it into that area. As she did, she could see that the others were having an animated conversation in whispered tones.
Eulalia took the lead and went to speak with Priya. “You’ve never been in prison, I take it.”
“I work in one, but as an inmate, no.” She didn’t count the few days she had been in the Warden’s center for short-term prisoners.
“Well, there is a tradition in most prisons, certainly in this one, that a new inmate has to be initiated, has to do things for the older inmates, like provide them payment for protection.”
“I have no money with me, but I can get you some when I get out,” Priya replied.
The women laughed. “That isn’t good enough,” Eulalia continued. “We are going to have to help you tomorrow or we’re all screwed. You’ve messed up our situation that we worked hard to create and you owe us.”
“Well, what would you like me to do?”
“Let’s try this. While you’ve been riding around in the Warden’s Lexus, we’ve been slaving away in the hot sun. My muscles are sore and I could use a good massage.”
That seemed reasonable to Priya. “OK, I’m not a professional masseuse, but I’m a doctor, so I do know where the pressure points are and I get massages regularly back home. I’ll be happy to give it my best shot.”
Eulalia stripped off her shirt and shorts and lay down naked on the cot on her front. Priya straddled her and began kneading her back muscles. She saw only faint lines on the skin from old whippings, but nothing suggesting Eula had been whipped recently. Priya felt Eula’s body relaxing, contented sighs escaping her mouth.
After several minutes, Eula said, “Now do the front.” She turned over on her back. Priya started massaging her shoulders. “Don’t be shy to touch my breasts.” Priya began kneading Eula’s lovely firm breasts.
“Don’t be afraid to touch my pussy, either.” Priya knew that being accepted as a member of this work team was essential if she were to get through even a short stay in this prison. She began massaging Eulalia’s vulva, drawing contented sighs.
“Use your mouth, please,” Eula demanded. Priya bent between Eula’s legs and began gently licking around her labia. It tasted salty and somewhat rank from the sweat of slaving under the hot sun and from female secretions. Priya didn’t dare to complain.
Eula raised her legs and spread them to give Priya better access, resting her feet on Priya’s back. Totally subservient now, Priya used the techniques that had worked well on Noba the previous night, circling her tongue over the clit, then nibbling gently on the nub. Eulalia was chanting “Yes, yes, keep going” rocking her hips and pushing her vulva into Priya’s tongue. Finally, her body stiffened and she moaned three times, then relaxed.
“That was good, Priya,” she said. Then louder, “Who’s next?”
“Me,” Barbara said, stripping, “I could really use a good massage.” She lay down on her cot on her front, as Eulalia had and Priya straddled her, kneading the shoulders, working the tension out of the muscles, then moving slowly down until she was massaging the buttocks. “That feels very nice,” Barb sighed.
Priya reached her hand underneath Barb’s body until it made contact with her clit. Barb lifted her ass off the cot to give Priya better access. Priya placed the tips of her index and middle fingers on Barb’s pleasure center and began moving them in a circular motion. “Oh, that feels really nice,” Barb moaned.
“Would you stick a couple of fingers inside?” Barb asked. Priya placed her other hand on Barb’s ass and inserted two fingers into her pussy. “Oh fuck, that’s it, I’m close” Barb said, her breath labored with the rising excitement. Priya sped up her motion on the clit and it wasn’t long before Barb cried, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming. Oh, god.” Her body bucked back and forth several times against Priya’s hands, before she collapsed onto the cot, panting.
After a moment, Barb turned over and smiled. Priya leaned down and kissed her on the mouth.
By the time it was Dorothy’s turn, it was late and she fell asleep as Priya was massaging her back. Priya got up and went to lie on her own cot. Helping her new friends relax after an exhausting day was the least she could do, she felt, and she hoped they would be able to meet tomorrow’s challenge working together as a team.
Author's note: Some of you may recall that in the first story in the series, Priya and her friends were punished for lesbian activities and may have been expecting that here. That was years ago and in the camp for offenders kept for a short time after caning. In the long-term facility today, it is tolerated. First, the Warden is too cheap to provide TV or other diversions at night. Bored prisoners are trouble. Second, punishing the women for it would hinder the work getting done and hurt the Warden's pocket book. She might have to trade the top-of-the-line Lexus for a lesser model. And that, my friends, cannot be allowed to happen. So, our heroines won't be punished for this little escapade. But punished they will be.
After dinner, the prisoners made their way to their barracks. The 3 foreign women had a section curtained off with sheets and other salvaged fabrics, as all the work crews did. Priya found an empty cot and brought it into that area. As she did, she could see that the others were having an animated conversation in whispered tones.
Eulalia took the lead and went to speak with Priya. “You’ve never been in prison, I take it.”
“I work in one, but as an inmate, no.” She didn’t count the few days she had been in the Warden’s center for short-term prisoners.
“Well, there is a tradition in most prisons, certainly in this one, that a new inmate has to be initiated, has to do things for the older inmates, like provide them payment for protection.”
“I have no money with me, but I can get you some when I get out,” Priya replied.
The women laughed. “That isn’t good enough,” Eulalia continued. “We are going to have to help you tomorrow or we’re all screwed. You’ve messed up our situation that we worked hard to create and you owe us.”
“Well, what would you like me to do?”
“Let’s try this. While you’ve been riding around in the Warden’s Lexus, we’ve been slaving away in the hot sun. My muscles are sore and I could use a good massage.”
That seemed reasonable to Priya. “OK, I’m not a professional masseuse, but I’m a doctor, so I do know where the pressure points are and I get massages regularly back home. I’ll be happy to give it my best shot.”
Eulalia stripped off her shirt and shorts and lay down naked on the cot on her front. Priya straddled her and began kneading her back muscles. She saw only faint lines on the skin from old whippings, but nothing suggesting Eula had been whipped recently. Priya felt Eula’s body relaxing, contented sighs escaping her mouth.
After several minutes, Eula said, “Now do the front.” She turned over on her back. Priya started massaging her shoulders. “Don’t be shy to touch my breasts.” Priya began kneading Eula’s lovely firm breasts.
“Don’t be afraid to touch my pussy, either.” Priya knew that being accepted as a member of this work team was essential if she were to get through even a short stay in this prison. She began massaging Eulalia’s vulva, drawing contented sighs.
“Use your mouth, please,” Eula demanded. Priya bent between Eula’s legs and began gently licking around her labia. It tasted salty and somewhat rank from the sweat of slaving under the hot sun and from female secretions. Priya didn’t dare to complain.
Eula raised her legs and spread them to give Priya better access, resting her feet on Priya’s back. Totally subservient now, Priya used the techniques that had worked well on Noba the previous night, circling her tongue over the clit, then nibbling gently on the nub. Eulalia was chanting “Yes, yes, keep going” rocking her hips and pushing her vulva into Priya’s tongue. Finally, her body stiffened and she moaned three times, then relaxed.
“That was good, Priya,” she said. Then louder, “Who’s next?”
“Me,” Barbara said, stripping, “I could really use a good massage.” She lay down on her cot on her front, as Eulalia had and Priya straddled her, kneading the shoulders, working the tension out of the muscles, then moving slowly down until she was massaging the buttocks. “That feels very nice,” Barb sighed.
Priya reached her hand underneath Barb’s body until it made contact with her clit. Barb lifted her ass off the cot to give Priya better access. Priya placed the tips of her index and middle fingers on Barb’s pleasure center and began moving them in a circular motion. “Oh, that feels really nice,” Barb moaned.
“Would you stick a couple of fingers inside?” Barb asked. Priya placed her other hand on Barb’s ass and inserted two fingers into her pussy. “Oh fuck, that’s it, I’m close” Barb said, her breath labored with the rising excitement. Priya sped up her motion on the clit and it wasn’t long before Barb cried, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming. Oh, god.” Her body bucked back and forth several times against Priya’s hands, before she collapsed onto the cot, panting.
After a moment, Barb turned over and smiled. Priya leaned down and kissed her on the mouth.
By the time it was Dorothy’s turn, it was late and she fell asleep as Priya was massaging her back. Priya got up and went to lie on her own cot. Helping her new friends relax after an exhausting day was the least she could do, she felt, and she hoped they would be able to meet tomorrow’s challenge working together as a team.
Author's note: Some of you may recall that in the first story in the series, Priya and her friends were punished for lesbian activities and may have been expecting that here. That was years ago and in the camp for offenders kept for a short time after caning. In the long-term facility today, it is tolerated. First, the Warden is too cheap to provide TV or other diversions at night. Bored prisoners are trouble. Second, punishing the women for it would hinder the work getting done and hurt the Warden's pocket book. She might have to trade the top-of-the-line Lexus for a lesser model. And that, my friends, cannot be allowed to happen. So, our heroines won't be punished for this little escapade. But punished they will be.
I am totally aghast that the warden would allow her charges such comforts... What is this world coming to???
windar
Teller of Tales
As long as it doesn't cost her any cash, they can have their fun. Don't worry, she'll give them plenty of abuse later on.
Excellent idea. She may want to hire you as her assistant. Can I assume you could be interested in the job?
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
I Am so glad and relieved that you brought two lesbians into this story
by the time Priya got to me she was totally exhausted, thank goodness
for that. Good chapter especially the last few lines PHEWW!!!
Lucky Escape.
by the time Priya got to me she was totally exhausted, thank goodness
for that. Good chapter especially the last few lines PHEWW!!!
Lucky Escape.
I was holding my breath when I read down to the part where it would be Dorithy's turn, but Windar deftly dodged a bullet there. Or perhaps more accurate to say that Dorothy had a lucky escape?
Actually, as initiations go, this seems pretty gentle, enjoyable for all involved!
Mmmmmmm
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 11- Hard Work Never Killed Anybody
It seemed to Priya that she had barely fallen asleep, when she was awakened by a loud horn going off. The prisoners hustled out of bed and rushed to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. The sun had only risen a half an hour or so before, but it was already warm as they were mustered and counted on the assembly ground. The women were marched down a dirt road that led into the jungle for about 10 minutes, until they reached the cleared area where Priya and Noba had observed the prisoners working the day before.
A pickup truck was waiting there, watched over by guards armed with semi-automatic rifles. Each prisoner was handed a machete and a shovel. Clearly, any revolt where the prisoners tried to use the machetes on the guards would have been a suicide mission and they were inside the fence, so escape was hopeless.
Once they had their tools, Barb, Eula and Dorothy walked along the edge of the cleared area, looking for the area of forest marked with #5, their work crew’s designation. Priya followed as best she could. Finally they found the number marked on the ground with spray paint.
The 3 veteran prisoners strode purposefully a short distance into the forest, congregating in the center of the uncleared area, discussing animatedly. Priya went to join them, but was stopped immediately as she stepped on various thorny plants and rocks. She had to pull the painful intruders out of her feet before she could continue. Finally, she reached the others.
“What took you so long?” Barb asked angrily.
“These plants are killing my feet,” Priya whined. “Look at how I’m bleeding.” She held up her right foot to show them the numerous cuts on her sole.
“We don’t have time for your dawdling,” Dorothy snapped. “You have to toughen up girl.” She showed Priya her callused foot. “If you are too slow, your back will look a lot worse than your feet by this evening.”
Priya looked around and saw that a large square had been marked on the ground with yellow spray paint. “What’s with the paint?” she asked.
Eulalia explained. “That is the area we have to clear completely of trees, bushes, rocks, anything, by the end of the day. If we don’t they can whip us and they probably will. So enough talking; we better get to work, because this is almost impossible, even if you weren’t a useless rookie.”
Eula decided to take a few minutes to try to teach Priya the rudiments of how to take down small trees with a machete. After all, they would be judged as a team. She showed her where to hack and how to measure the blows for maximum efficiency. Then she sent Priya to a small area of the marked square next to the cleared area to begin hacking away.
Priya started swinging her machete against the trunk of a small tree, maybe 3 inches across. After about 15 hits, she had barely made a dent in the wood. Despite that, she had already sweated through her shirt and was gasping for breath. She stopped to wipe her face and gulp in some air.
“What are you stopping for, you lazy bitch?” Dorothy yelled. “Do you see us resting yet?”
Barb added her voice, “I know it’s tough, but you have to keep going or we’re all screwed.” Priya started chopping again.
It must have been 30 minutes or so, though it seemed like forever to Priya, when a porter, a fellow prisoner, wearing a sort of harness with a large water jug on her back, perhaps 20 liters or so, came into view. Finally, the other women stopped and put down their machetes. Priya noticed that each of them had taken down a tree similar in size to hers, while she wasn’t even halfway through hers.
Despite having accomplished so little, Priya’s shirt was soaked, her arms ached and her feet still felt like they were burning. Nevertheless, she was happy to gulp down some water and catch her breath.
The morning passed quickly, with cycles of 30 minutes of dreadful labor, followed by a brief water break. Finally, as the sun reached the top of its arc, blasting straight down on the prisoners, the air was split by 3 blasts of the horn. Her teammates put their machetes down and headed back towards the road.
“Lunch time, bitch!” they called, as Priya did her best to follow them, doing more damage to her feet as she made her way over the rough ground. The food was a repeat of last night’s dinner, but after all that work, Priya was hungry and ate quite a bit. After eating, they had a few minutes to rest in the shade before heading back to their work site.
Looking it over, Barb said, “We’re screwed. We’re maybe 1/3 done. There’s no way we’ll get the whole thing done. They might as well whip us now.” The others nodded in agreement.
“That bitch of a warden and this useless piece of shit (she indicated Priya) have fucked us up good,” Dorothy said.
“We just have to do our best,” Eulalia said. “If we come close, we might get away with only a dozen lashes if the Warden’s in a good mood.”
So the women got back to work. Priya found she was slowly getting better at gauging where to strike the trees to bring them down the quickest. On the other hand, it was now the hottest part of the day, and the effort was even more exhausting than it had been in the morning. The women found themselves gulping water like mad whenever the porter passed by.
Finally, the horn blew, signifying the end of the day. Despite their best efforts, the women had cleared only 80% or so of their area. A guard came by to inspect, making a note on a clipboard he carried. They made their way to the road and began the slow walk back to camp. Priya’s feet were glad to be walking on cleared ground, though even that was painful.
“Well, our backs are at the mercy of the delightful Warden Noba,” Barbara said. “I’m pretty sure she wants you to experience a good whipping, Priya. And that means us too, I would guess.”
Many thanks to Tree for the illustration. There will be more in subsequent chapters.
It seemed to Priya that she had barely fallen asleep, when she was awakened by a loud horn going off. The prisoners hustled out of bed and rushed to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. The sun had only risen a half an hour or so before, but it was already warm as they were mustered and counted on the assembly ground. The women were marched down a dirt road that led into the jungle for about 10 minutes, until they reached the cleared area where Priya and Noba had observed the prisoners working the day before.
A pickup truck was waiting there, watched over by guards armed with semi-automatic rifles. Each prisoner was handed a machete and a shovel. Clearly, any revolt where the prisoners tried to use the machetes on the guards would have been a suicide mission and they were inside the fence, so escape was hopeless.
Once they had their tools, Barb, Eula and Dorothy walked along the edge of the cleared area, looking for the area of forest marked with #5, their work crew’s designation. Priya followed as best she could. Finally they found the number marked on the ground with spray paint.
The 3 veteran prisoners strode purposefully a short distance into the forest, congregating in the center of the uncleared area, discussing animatedly. Priya went to join them, but was stopped immediately as she stepped on various thorny plants and rocks. She had to pull the painful intruders out of her feet before she could continue. Finally, she reached the others.
“What took you so long?” Barb asked angrily.
“These plants are killing my feet,” Priya whined. “Look at how I’m bleeding.” She held up her right foot to show them the numerous cuts on her sole.
“We don’t have time for your dawdling,” Dorothy snapped. “You have to toughen up girl.” She showed Priya her callused foot. “If you are too slow, your back will look a lot worse than your feet by this evening.”
Priya looked around and saw that a large square had been marked on the ground with yellow spray paint. “What’s with the paint?” she asked.
Eulalia explained. “That is the area we have to clear completely of trees, bushes, rocks, anything, by the end of the day. If we don’t they can whip us and they probably will. So enough talking; we better get to work, because this is almost impossible, even if you weren’t a useless rookie.”
Eula decided to take a few minutes to try to teach Priya the rudiments of how to take down small trees with a machete. After all, they would be judged as a team. She showed her where to hack and how to measure the blows for maximum efficiency. Then she sent Priya to a small area of the marked square next to the cleared area to begin hacking away.
Priya started swinging her machete against the trunk of a small tree, maybe 3 inches across. After about 15 hits, she had barely made a dent in the wood. Despite that, she had already sweated through her shirt and was gasping for breath. She stopped to wipe her face and gulp in some air.
“What are you stopping for, you lazy bitch?” Dorothy yelled. “Do you see us resting yet?”
Barb added her voice, “I know it’s tough, but you have to keep going or we’re all screwed.” Priya started chopping again.
It must have been 30 minutes or so, though it seemed like forever to Priya, when a porter, a fellow prisoner, wearing a sort of harness with a large water jug on her back, perhaps 20 liters or so, came into view. Finally, the other women stopped and put down their machetes. Priya noticed that each of them had taken down a tree similar in size to hers, while she wasn’t even halfway through hers.
Despite having accomplished so little, Priya’s shirt was soaked, her arms ached and her feet still felt like they were burning. Nevertheless, she was happy to gulp down some water and catch her breath.
The morning passed quickly, with cycles of 30 minutes of dreadful labor, followed by a brief water break. Finally, as the sun reached the top of its arc, blasting straight down on the prisoners, the air was split by 3 blasts of the horn. Her teammates put their machetes down and headed back towards the road.
“Lunch time, bitch!” they called, as Priya did her best to follow them, doing more damage to her feet as she made her way over the rough ground. The food was a repeat of last night’s dinner, but after all that work, Priya was hungry and ate quite a bit. After eating, they had a few minutes to rest in the shade before heading back to their work site.
Looking it over, Barb said, “We’re screwed. We’re maybe 1/3 done. There’s no way we’ll get the whole thing done. They might as well whip us now.” The others nodded in agreement.
“That bitch of a warden and this useless piece of shit (she indicated Priya) have fucked us up good,” Dorothy said.
“We just have to do our best,” Eulalia said. “If we come close, we might get away with only a dozen lashes if the Warden’s in a good mood.”
So the women got back to work. Priya found she was slowly getting better at gauging where to strike the trees to bring them down the quickest. On the other hand, it was now the hottest part of the day, and the effort was even more exhausting than it had been in the morning. The women found themselves gulping water like mad whenever the porter passed by.
Finally, the horn blew, signifying the end of the day. Despite their best efforts, the women had cleared only 80% or so of their area. A guard came by to inspect, making a note on a clipboard he carried. They made their way to the road and began the slow walk back to camp. Priya’s feet were glad to be walking on cleared ground, though even that was painful.
“Well, our backs are at the mercy of the delightful Warden Noba,” Barbara said. “I’m pretty sure she wants you to experience a good whipping, Priya. And that means us too, I would guess.”
Many thanks to Tree for the illustration. There will be more in subsequent chapters.
Attachments
Well written, very nicely detailed and very believable episode! My back will be at the mercy of Warden Noba tonight. Preparing myself for the worst!Chapter 11- Hard Work Never Killed Anybody
It seemed to Priya that she had barely fallen asleep, when she was awakened by a loud horn going off. The prisoners hustled out of bed and rushed to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. The sun had only risen a half an hour or so before, but it was already warm as they were mustered and counted on the assembly ground. The women were marched down a dirt road that led into the jungle for about 10 minutes, until they reached the cleared area where Priya and Noba had observed the prisoners working the day before.
A pickup truck was waiting there, watched over by guards armed with semi-automatic rifles. Each prisoner was handed a machete and a shovel. Clearly, any revolt where the prisoners tried to use the machetes on the guards would have been a suicide mission and they were inside the fence, so escape was hopeless.
Once they had their tools, Barb, Eula and Dorothy walked along the edge of the cleared area, looking for the area of forest marked with #5, their work crew’s designation. Priya followed as best she could. Finally they found the number marked on the ground with spray paint.
The 3 veteran prisoners strode purposefully a short distance into the forest, congregating in the center of the uncleared area, discussing animatedly. Priya went to join them, but was stopped immediately as she stepped on various thorny plants and rocks. She had to pull the painful intruders out of her feet before she could continue. Finally, she reached the others.
“What took you so long?” Barb asked angrily.
“These plants are killing my feet,” Priya whined. “Look at how I’m bleeding.” She held up her right foot to show them the numerous cuts on her sole.
“We don’t have time for your dawdling,” Dorothy snapped. “You have to toughen up girl.” She showed Priya her callused foot. “If you are too slow, your back will look a lot worse than your feet by this evening.”
Priya looked around and saw that a large square had been marked on the ground with yellow spray paint. “What’s with the paint?” she asked.
Eulalia explained. “That is the area we have to clear completely of trees, bushes, rocks, anything, by the end of the day. If we don’t they can whip us and they probably will. So enough talking; we better get to work, because this is almost impossible, even if you weren’t a useless rookie.”
Eula decided to take a few minutes to try to teach Priya the rudiments of how to take down small trees with a machete. After all, they would be judged as a team. She showed her where to hack and how to measure the blows for maximum efficiency. Then she sent Priya to a small area of the marked square next to the cleared area to begin hacking away.
Priya started swinging her machete against the trunk of a small tree, maybe 3 inches across. After about 15 hits, she had barely made a dent in the wood. Despite that, she had already sweated through her shirt and was gasping for breath. She stopped to wipe her face and gulp in some air.
“What are you stopping for, you lazy bitch?” Dorothy yelled. “Do you see us resting yet?”
Barb added her voice, “I know it’s tough, but you have to keep going or we’re all screwed.” Priya started chopping again.
It must have been 30 minutes or so, though it seemed like forever to Priya, when a porter, a fellow prisoner, wearing a sort of harness with a large water jug on her back, perhaps 20 liters or so, came into view. Finally, the other women stopped and put down their machetes. Priya noticed that each of them had taken down a tree similar in size to hers, while she wasn’t even halfway through hers.
Despite having accomplished so little, Priya’s shirt was soaked, her arms ached and her feet still felt like they were burning. Nevertheless, she was happy to gulp down some water and catch her breath.
The morning passed quickly, with cycles of 30 minutes of dreadful labor, followed by a brief water break. Finally, as the sun reached the top of its arc, blasting straight down on the prisoners, the air was split by 3 blasts of the horn. Her teammates put their machetes down and headed back towards the road.
“Lunch time, bitch!” they called, as Priya did her best to follow them, doing more damage to her feet as she made her way over the rough ground. The food was a repeat of last night’s dinner, but after all that work, Priya was hungry and ate quite a bit. After eating, they had a few minutes to rest in the shade before heading back to their work site.
Looking it over, Barb said, “We’re screwed. We’re maybe 1/3 done. There’s no way we’ll get the whole thing done. They might as well whip us now.” The others nodded in agreement.
“That bitch of a warden and this useless piece of shit (she indicated Priya) have fucked us up good,” Dorothy said.
“We just have to do our best,” Eulalia said. “If we come close, we might get away with only a dozen lashes if the Warden’s in a good mood.”
So the women got back to work. Priya found she was slowly getting better at gauging where to strike the trees to bring them down the quickest. On the other hand, it was now the hottest part of the day, and the effort was even more exhausting than it had been in the morning. The women found themselves gulping water like mad whenever the porter passed by.
Finally, the horn blew, signifying the end of the day. Despite their best efforts, the women had cleared only 80% or so of their area. A guard came by to inspect, making a note on a clipboard he carried. They made their way to the road and began the slow walk back to camp. Priya’s feet were glad to be walking on cleared ground, though even that was painful.
“Well, our backs are at the mercy of the delightful Warden Noba,” Barbara said. “I’m pretty sure she wants you to experience a good whipping, Priya. And that means us too, I would guess.”
Many thanks to Tree for the illustration. There will be more in subsequent chapters.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I'm afraid my Mistress wouldn't trust me with Dorothy.
You mean even near her!!!
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I live only a few miles from where I think she lives, and I'm not even allowed to drive alone in that direction.
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 12- Not Making Quota is Punished
The women walked slowly back to camp, tired after a long day slaving in the hot sun. For Barb, Eula, Dorothy and Priya, in particular, there was no hurry because they were not looking forward at all to today’s assembly. But the consequences could only be delayed so long; eventually they reached the assembly ground and fell into line with the other prisoners.
Warden Noba was going to handle this herself. “Cross, Moore, Brown and Raman, step forward,” she ordered. Reluctantly, the 4 foreign women obeyed. “I am very disappointed in your work today. You have failed to meet your quota and I cannot allow that to go unpunished. 24 lashes each. Cross and Moore can go first. And Brown and Raman, you better watch every lash, especially you, Raman.”
Barb and Eula pulled their T shirts over their heads. They looked almost like sisters, with delectable breasts and slim builds. They walked to the two whipping posts, looking defiant but scared. The guards buckled the manacles around their wrists and pulled the chains up, raising them up on their toes. Then the guards went and each got a whip. They looked at the Warden. She nodded.
Each guard drew their whip back and struck. The leather whistled through the air and cracked as it struck Barb and Eula’s naked shoulder blades. Priya could hear the two women struggling to draw breath and see them pulling on the chains that held their wrists, trying to escape, though the metal was sunk deeply into the unyielding wood. The guards struck again and then again. There were now 3 vivid red horizontal stripes on both prisoners’ backs.
It was very hard for Priya to watch their suffering, knowing she was a partial cause of it, and also that she would soon suffer in her turn. But she dared not look away, both out of fear of incurring the Warden’s wrath and because the spectacle was so intensely arousing.
By the sixth lash, Barb was moaning and Eula was muttering, “Oh, God, it hurts.” The first spots of blood showed on Eulalia’s back after the 8th lash and on Barb’s after the 10th. After the 12th, the floggers paused to catch their breath and take a sip of water. The two women tied to the posts were sobbing softly, inhaling deeply between sobs, trying to make up the oxygen deficit in their exhausted bodies.
Soon, the refreshed floggers were ready to deliver the second half of the punishment. They struck hard, the crack of the whip resounding through the camp over the screams of the pitiful victims. By the 15th lash, blood was trickling from several spots on both Barb and Eula’s backs, running down and staining their shorts. After 20, it was flowing freely down their backs. By this point, the women legs had stopped struggling against the manacles, too exhausted to do more than whimper as the final lashes licked at their flesh.
Finally, it was over. The guards lowered the chains and unbuckled the manacles from around Barb and Eula’s wrists. Both of them collapsed on the ground. The guards pointed at 4 prisoners, who stepped forward. Two approached each of the flogged women; one took hold of their ankles and one grabbed their wrists and they carried them off the assembly ground.
“Brown, Raman, your turn!” the Warden shouted. Priya stripped off her shirt. It felt good to get the wet cloth off her body, to feel the air on her nipples. She looked over at Dorothy. Both of them had larger breasts than Barb and Eulalia and Priya’s coffee-colored skin made a nice contrast with Dorothy’s paler hue.
They walked together to the posts. The guard buckled the leather manacles, still wet from the sweat Barb had left behind in her anguish, tightly around Priya’s wrists. He hauled up on the chain attaching the manacles to the post, forcing Priya up on her toes, which caused her poor aching feet to react with distress.
Priya looked over and saw that Dorothy was attached to her post in a similar manner. She saw the guard walk behind her and turned her head to see what he was doing. The whip was drawn behind him pausing before the strike. Then, Priya heard the whoosh as the leather split the air. She closed her eyes, too frightened to watch, but she heard the crack and felt the impact against the skin of her shoulder blades. For a second that was all she felt, that and the air being driven out of her lungs. But, after a moment, she felt the fire in her back, overwhelming her, growing stronger before finally ebbing a bit.
Just as Barb and Eula had, Priya fought mightily against the bonds, with no more success than they had found. The second stroke left her dazed, her head filled with pain, her eyes seeing only bright lights. She couldn’t imagine anything worse, but the next strokes were pure, unadulterated agony. She would have done anything, degraded herself in any way, to get them to stop. Priya heard howls of agony at each of the next few strokes. Was it her or Dorothy? She couldn’t tell.
Finally, the lashes stopped. Was it over? Surely that wasn’t 24. She glanced over at Dorothy. She could see that Dorothy’s back was lined with wheals, some leaking blood. Priya knew hers must look the same. Dorothy looked over at her, her face wracked with agony, as Priya knew hers was.
All too soon, Priya heard the whistle of the lash and felt the awful agony of its bite. No, it hadn’t been 24, only a brief break, so the floggers could keep hitting at full strength. Priya could feel blood trickling down her back in a few spots, growing worse as each stroke abraded more skin.
By now, Priya had lost count. The world was reduced to her back and the leather that was tearing her apart and the sensation of blood now flowing rather freely down her back. She tried to look at Dorothy, but she couldn’t see, as her eyes were clouded with tears and sweat and her brain overwhelmed with the pain.
Finally, there seemed to be no more cracks of the whip. Could she dare to dream it was over? She felt the tension on her arms relaxing and the soles of her feet touching the dirt. Then she felt the manacles being removed from her wrists, her arms free. Priya collapsed on the ground.
Soon, strong hands were grasping her wrists and ankles and she was being carried off the assembly ground and into a hut. She could see Barbara and Eulalia lying on cots on their fronts, their backs cleaned, the lacerations dressed with a cream that Priya guessed was Dr. Fong’s improved miracle concoction. On the next cot, she saw them laying Dorothy down, her back a mess of bleeding cuts and wheals, as her own must be.
The attendants worked on Priya, cleaning her wounds, as she herself did for the women who were caned at the Punishment Center where she worked back home in Dorsbury. The disinfectant stung as it worked into the wounds, causing her to moan in pain, as Dorothy did on the next cot. Finally, they slathered on the cream, which did soothe the burning somewhat. Priya asked if they could also put some on the soles of her feet, which been cut up by the jungle plants. She was gratified that in the midst of the frightful pain that she had suffered, they extended her that minor, but welcome kindness.
The women walked slowly back to camp, tired after a long day slaving in the hot sun. For Barb, Eula, Dorothy and Priya, in particular, there was no hurry because they were not looking forward at all to today’s assembly. But the consequences could only be delayed so long; eventually they reached the assembly ground and fell into line with the other prisoners.
Warden Noba was going to handle this herself. “Cross, Moore, Brown and Raman, step forward,” she ordered. Reluctantly, the 4 foreign women obeyed. “I am very disappointed in your work today. You have failed to meet your quota and I cannot allow that to go unpunished. 24 lashes each. Cross and Moore can go first. And Brown and Raman, you better watch every lash, especially you, Raman.”
Barb and Eula pulled their T shirts over their heads. They looked almost like sisters, with delectable breasts and slim builds. They walked to the two whipping posts, looking defiant but scared. The guards buckled the manacles around their wrists and pulled the chains up, raising them up on their toes. Then the guards went and each got a whip. They looked at the Warden. She nodded.
Each guard drew their whip back and struck. The leather whistled through the air and cracked as it struck Barb and Eula’s naked shoulder blades. Priya could hear the two women struggling to draw breath and see them pulling on the chains that held their wrists, trying to escape, though the metal was sunk deeply into the unyielding wood. The guards struck again and then again. There were now 3 vivid red horizontal stripes on both prisoners’ backs.
It was very hard for Priya to watch their suffering, knowing she was a partial cause of it, and also that she would soon suffer in her turn. But she dared not look away, both out of fear of incurring the Warden’s wrath and because the spectacle was so intensely arousing.
By the sixth lash, Barb was moaning and Eula was muttering, “Oh, God, it hurts.” The first spots of blood showed on Eulalia’s back after the 8th lash and on Barb’s after the 10th. After the 12th, the floggers paused to catch their breath and take a sip of water. The two women tied to the posts were sobbing softly, inhaling deeply between sobs, trying to make up the oxygen deficit in their exhausted bodies.
Soon, the refreshed floggers were ready to deliver the second half of the punishment. They struck hard, the crack of the whip resounding through the camp over the screams of the pitiful victims. By the 15th lash, blood was trickling from several spots on both Barb and Eula’s backs, running down and staining their shorts. After 20, it was flowing freely down their backs. By this point, the women legs had stopped struggling against the manacles, too exhausted to do more than whimper as the final lashes licked at their flesh.
Finally, it was over. The guards lowered the chains and unbuckled the manacles from around Barb and Eula’s wrists. Both of them collapsed on the ground. The guards pointed at 4 prisoners, who stepped forward. Two approached each of the flogged women; one took hold of their ankles and one grabbed their wrists and they carried them off the assembly ground.
“Brown, Raman, your turn!” the Warden shouted. Priya stripped off her shirt. It felt good to get the wet cloth off her body, to feel the air on her nipples. She looked over at Dorothy. Both of them had larger breasts than Barb and Eulalia and Priya’s coffee-colored skin made a nice contrast with Dorothy’s paler hue.
They walked together to the posts. The guard buckled the leather manacles, still wet from the sweat Barb had left behind in her anguish, tightly around Priya’s wrists. He hauled up on the chain attaching the manacles to the post, forcing Priya up on her toes, which caused her poor aching feet to react with distress.
Priya looked over and saw that Dorothy was attached to her post in a similar manner. She saw the guard walk behind her and turned her head to see what he was doing. The whip was drawn behind him pausing before the strike. Then, Priya heard the whoosh as the leather split the air. She closed her eyes, too frightened to watch, but she heard the crack and felt the impact against the skin of her shoulder blades. For a second that was all she felt, that and the air being driven out of her lungs. But, after a moment, she felt the fire in her back, overwhelming her, growing stronger before finally ebbing a bit.
Just as Barb and Eula had, Priya fought mightily against the bonds, with no more success than they had found. The second stroke left her dazed, her head filled with pain, her eyes seeing only bright lights. She couldn’t imagine anything worse, but the next strokes were pure, unadulterated agony. She would have done anything, degraded herself in any way, to get them to stop. Priya heard howls of agony at each of the next few strokes. Was it her or Dorothy? She couldn’t tell.
Finally, the lashes stopped. Was it over? Surely that wasn’t 24. She glanced over at Dorothy. She could see that Dorothy’s back was lined with wheals, some leaking blood. Priya knew hers must look the same. Dorothy looked over at her, her face wracked with agony, as Priya knew hers was.
All too soon, Priya heard the whistle of the lash and felt the awful agony of its bite. No, it hadn’t been 24, only a brief break, so the floggers could keep hitting at full strength. Priya could feel blood trickling down her back in a few spots, growing worse as each stroke abraded more skin.
By now, Priya had lost count. The world was reduced to her back and the leather that was tearing her apart and the sensation of blood now flowing rather freely down her back. She tried to look at Dorothy, but she couldn’t see, as her eyes were clouded with tears and sweat and her brain overwhelmed with the pain.
Finally, there seemed to be no more cracks of the whip. Could she dare to dream it was over? She felt the tension on her arms relaxing and the soles of her feet touching the dirt. Then she felt the manacles being removed from her wrists, her arms free. Priya collapsed on the ground.
Soon, strong hands were grasping her wrists and ankles and she was being carried off the assembly ground and into a hut. She could see Barbara and Eulalia lying on cots on their fronts, their backs cleaned, the lacerations dressed with a cream that Priya guessed was Dr. Fong’s improved miracle concoction. On the next cot, she saw them laying Dorothy down, her back a mess of bleeding cuts and wheals, as her own must be.
The attendants worked on Priya, cleaning her wounds, as she herself did for the women who were caned at the Punishment Center where she worked back home in Dorsbury. The disinfectant stung as it worked into the wounds, causing her to moan in pain, as Dorothy did on the next cot. Finally, they slathered on the cream, which did soothe the burning somewhat. Priya asked if they could also put some on the soles of her feet, which been cut up by the jungle plants. She was gratified that in the midst of the frightful pain that she had suffered, they extended her that minor, but welcome kindness.
All I can say in response to this one is WOW!!! I need to go catch my breath after reading it. Whew!!!
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Day 1.
We kinda knew they wouldn't make quota.
The punishment sounds horrendous (Very vivid description windar, just the right amount of detail. I soon get bored when every lash takes a paragraph)
Can they be expected to do full quota tomorrow? If not, even more punishment? Priya will owe the others big time. Can she make it up to them? Will they exact revenge on her?
All these questions demonstrate what a good story you are writing.
windar
Teller of Tales
Stay tuned.
In that eventuality, I can answer yes.
Stay tuned.
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
They don`t have internet connections in Trabbia, they only have
wind up gramophones.. Noba has a collection of dirty postcards
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
Now that is a beautiful chapter, the best yet, but i would still love
to read about Priya being caned again. not forced, asking for it.
the cane administers wonderful pain and the sound of the girls
screams are so arousing too. invite me to tea at Noba`s place
and i will persuade her to cane both our bums down in the
basement below her office. i know she has a double spanking
horse down there, i have been over it a few times,my reward
for giving Noba blissful times with my body,if you get my drift
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 13-Pain is no Excuse
Sleep didn’t come so easily with the burning pain of whipped backs, plus in Priya’s case the additional pain of feet unused to walking unshod on rough ground, along with the soreness in her right arm from the unaccustomed work of wielding a machete on very resistant tropical vegetation. But despite the fact that none of the women slept that well, morning came and the prospect of another day’s hard labor.
They rose from their cots, groaning in pain, particularly as they struggled to slide the fresh T shirts provided them over the welts covering their upper backs. As they made their way towards breakfast, 2 male guards approached them. Eulalia had the best fluency in Trabbian, so she spoke with them.
“They feel a bit sorry for us and feel yesterday’s quota was a bit unfair,” she reported. “They say they will take pity and lay out a bit smaller area for today.”
“That’s wonderful!” Priya said.
“You need to know that nothing here is free,” Barb cautioned. “They’re going to want something in return. We might as well find out what it is.”
Eulalia had some further words with the guards. “They want us to show our appreciation. I would translate that as they want blow jobs.” She looked at Priya. “It would seem to me that since our whipping was largely your fault, that task should be on you. You want to experience prison life, well there it is. Every favor has a price.”
Priya considered this. While providing oral sex to those guards wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, she saw Eulalia’s point and really did regret that the 3 women were whipped because of her foolish need to try out this experience. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, “As long as it means we won’t get whipped again today.”
“There are no guarantees of that,” Eulalia said, “But our experience with these two is they are reasonably trustworthy, at least as far as Trabbian prison guards can be and they will keep their word, provided you give them first-rate head.” Priya said she would do her best. Eulalia relayed that to the guards, who smiled and led Priya behind one of the huts, out of view of the rest of the camp.
She knelt in front of the men, moving carefully so as not to aggravate the pain in her back. She undid their belts and lowered the pants of the guard standing to her left, then lowered his underwear. His cock was already fairly hard from the anticipation of what was to come. It was leaking pre-come and smelled of that and sweat from being cooped up in his pants in the tropical climate.
Putting her disgust aside, Priya thought only of the possibility of avoiding another whipping. With feigned eagerness, she took the swelling penis in her mouth and began sucking, making obscene slurping noises that seemed to excite her partner. He held her hair, making sure that she didn’t change her mind and began moving his hips back and forth causing his cock to push deeper into her mouth. Priya pursed her lips so as to provide better pressure on the shaft and also swirled her tongue against the very sensitive frenulum.
Under this treatment, it wasn’t long before the guard grunted, pushed his cock deep into Priya’s mouth and shot a very large load. Not wanting to give him an excuse to go back on the deal, she screwed up her courage and swallowed every drop, before letting the cock fall out of her mouth. The guard patted her on the head, indicating that she had done a good job. He stepped back and pulled up his underpants and trousers.
Wasting no time, Priya set to work on the other guard, with much the same result. Then, she hurried off to grab a bit of breakfast, hoping to wash the taste of the guards’ semen out of her mouth.
When the 4 women reached the area the guards had laid out for their day’s work, it seemed to Priya that it was a bit smaller than yesterday’s. “Is it do-able?” she asked.
“I think so,” Dorothy replied, “If we all work our asses off, and that means YOU, bitch.”
So they got right to work. Priya tried to put all thoughts of the pain in her back, arm and feet out of her mind and concentrate on the tasks at hand. The sweat was pouring from all of them in buckets, they were panting and groaning, but by mid-morning they had made substantial progress. When lunch came, they kept working, sending Priya, the least experienced worker, to bring them all a bowl that they could scarf down in a couple of minutes.
The work was even harder in the heat of the afternoon, but before the horn blew at the end of the day, they had the marked area cleared completely. The guard smiled at them as he checked the work. They walked slowly back to camp, totally exhausted, but glad they had escaped another whipping.
At the assembly, Warden Noba glared at them, but didn’t call them forward to the whipping posts. In fact, no one was whipped that day. However, after she dismissed the assembly, Noba did ask the 4 foreign women to stay. “I’m not stupid,” she told them. “I know what my guards did. Men, they think with their dicks, do they not?” The women nodded. “So be it. I will accept that you made your quota today, despite that. However if any of you ever try to pull any shit like that again, you will have hell to pay, believe me.” Then she strode away.
After dinner, the women retired to their section of the barracks. Upon release from the clinic, they had been given a tube of Fong’s cream with instructions to apply it to their wounded backs that evening. “Priya, I need you to do my back,” Dorothy said.
“OK, take your shirt off.” Priya squirted a generous dollop of cream on her hand and spread it over Dorothy’s back. She enjoyed touching her teammate’s body and the cooling cream drew contented sighs from her patient.
“How does it look?” Dorothy asked.
“Not bad considering,” Priya replied. “This stuff really does work. Eulalia, Barbara, do you want some too?” They both nodded. Once they were taken care of, Priya asked Dorothy to put some on her. Dorothy took the tube and applied the cream to Priya’s back. It felt very nice indeed.
Once they had all had the soothing treatment, they lay on their cots, wearing only their shorts. There was little to do at night in the prison and they were all very tired from their day of hard work. Nevertheless, Priya found sleep did not come immediately. She realized that she was horny, very horny. This didn’t seem like the place for delicacy, so she asked, “Anyone feel like returning the favor from 2 nights ago?”
“Listen, you are our bitch, not the other way around,” Dorothy said. “If you have a problem, take care of it yourself.”
“You don’t mind if I get myself off in front of you?” Priya asked.
“Nope,” Barb said. “Have at it you little slut. We’ll even watch you if you want.”
“Please do,” Priya responded, as she took off her shorts and sat on het cot, her legs spread wide like a wanton slut. She began fingering her labia with her right hand, rubbing in a circular motion as the others watched. As her excitement rose, both from the stimulation and from being the center of attention in this prison show, Priya inserted two fingers of her left hand into her pussy.
She began rubbing harder, her toes curling, her breath coming in gasps, watching the other women watching her, until she felt the tingling sensation in her groin that told her she was nearing her climax. “I’m coming, almost there, Oh God,” Priya moaned as the pleasure ran through her whole body. There was a round of applause as Priya collapsed back on the cot.
“Good show, Priya,” Barb exclaimed. “They’re too cheap to have TV here, so we have to get our entertainment where we can.”
“Good night, guys,” Priya said, still a bit out of breath.
Sleep didn’t come so easily with the burning pain of whipped backs, plus in Priya’s case the additional pain of feet unused to walking unshod on rough ground, along with the soreness in her right arm from the unaccustomed work of wielding a machete on very resistant tropical vegetation. But despite the fact that none of the women slept that well, morning came and the prospect of another day’s hard labor.
They rose from their cots, groaning in pain, particularly as they struggled to slide the fresh T shirts provided them over the welts covering their upper backs. As they made their way towards breakfast, 2 male guards approached them. Eulalia had the best fluency in Trabbian, so she spoke with them.
“They feel a bit sorry for us and feel yesterday’s quota was a bit unfair,” she reported. “They say they will take pity and lay out a bit smaller area for today.”
“That’s wonderful!” Priya said.
“You need to know that nothing here is free,” Barb cautioned. “They’re going to want something in return. We might as well find out what it is.”
Eulalia had some further words with the guards. “They want us to show our appreciation. I would translate that as they want blow jobs.” She looked at Priya. “It would seem to me that since our whipping was largely your fault, that task should be on you. You want to experience prison life, well there it is. Every favor has a price.”
Priya considered this. While providing oral sex to those guards wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, she saw Eulalia’s point and really did regret that the 3 women were whipped because of her foolish need to try out this experience. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, “As long as it means we won’t get whipped again today.”
“There are no guarantees of that,” Eulalia said, “But our experience with these two is they are reasonably trustworthy, at least as far as Trabbian prison guards can be and they will keep their word, provided you give them first-rate head.” Priya said she would do her best. Eulalia relayed that to the guards, who smiled and led Priya behind one of the huts, out of view of the rest of the camp.
She knelt in front of the men, moving carefully so as not to aggravate the pain in her back. She undid their belts and lowered the pants of the guard standing to her left, then lowered his underwear. His cock was already fairly hard from the anticipation of what was to come. It was leaking pre-come and smelled of that and sweat from being cooped up in his pants in the tropical climate.
Putting her disgust aside, Priya thought only of the possibility of avoiding another whipping. With feigned eagerness, she took the swelling penis in her mouth and began sucking, making obscene slurping noises that seemed to excite her partner. He held her hair, making sure that she didn’t change her mind and began moving his hips back and forth causing his cock to push deeper into her mouth. Priya pursed her lips so as to provide better pressure on the shaft and also swirled her tongue against the very sensitive frenulum.
Under this treatment, it wasn’t long before the guard grunted, pushed his cock deep into Priya’s mouth and shot a very large load. Not wanting to give him an excuse to go back on the deal, she screwed up her courage and swallowed every drop, before letting the cock fall out of her mouth. The guard patted her on the head, indicating that she had done a good job. He stepped back and pulled up his underpants and trousers.
Wasting no time, Priya set to work on the other guard, with much the same result. Then, she hurried off to grab a bit of breakfast, hoping to wash the taste of the guards’ semen out of her mouth.
When the 4 women reached the area the guards had laid out for their day’s work, it seemed to Priya that it was a bit smaller than yesterday’s. “Is it do-able?” she asked.
“I think so,” Dorothy replied, “If we all work our asses off, and that means YOU, bitch.”
So they got right to work. Priya tried to put all thoughts of the pain in her back, arm and feet out of her mind and concentrate on the tasks at hand. The sweat was pouring from all of them in buckets, they were panting and groaning, but by mid-morning they had made substantial progress. When lunch came, they kept working, sending Priya, the least experienced worker, to bring them all a bowl that they could scarf down in a couple of minutes.
The work was even harder in the heat of the afternoon, but before the horn blew at the end of the day, they had the marked area cleared completely. The guard smiled at them as he checked the work. They walked slowly back to camp, totally exhausted, but glad they had escaped another whipping.
At the assembly, Warden Noba glared at them, but didn’t call them forward to the whipping posts. In fact, no one was whipped that day. However, after she dismissed the assembly, Noba did ask the 4 foreign women to stay. “I’m not stupid,” she told them. “I know what my guards did. Men, they think with their dicks, do they not?” The women nodded. “So be it. I will accept that you made your quota today, despite that. However if any of you ever try to pull any shit like that again, you will have hell to pay, believe me.” Then she strode away.
After dinner, the women retired to their section of the barracks. Upon release from the clinic, they had been given a tube of Fong’s cream with instructions to apply it to their wounded backs that evening. “Priya, I need you to do my back,” Dorothy said.
“OK, take your shirt off.” Priya squirted a generous dollop of cream on her hand and spread it over Dorothy’s back. She enjoyed touching her teammate’s body and the cooling cream drew contented sighs from her patient.
“How does it look?” Dorothy asked.
“Not bad considering,” Priya replied. “This stuff really does work. Eulalia, Barbara, do you want some too?” They both nodded. Once they were taken care of, Priya asked Dorothy to put some on her. Dorothy took the tube and applied the cream to Priya’s back. It felt very nice indeed.
Once they had all had the soothing treatment, they lay on their cots, wearing only their shorts. There was little to do at night in the prison and they were all very tired from their day of hard work. Nevertheless, Priya found sleep did not come immediately. She realized that she was horny, very horny. This didn’t seem like the place for delicacy, so she asked, “Anyone feel like returning the favor from 2 nights ago?”
“Listen, you are our bitch, not the other way around,” Dorothy said. “If you have a problem, take care of it yourself.”
“You don’t mind if I get myself off in front of you?” Priya asked.
“Nope,” Barb said. “Have at it you little slut. We’ll even watch you if you want.”
“Please do,” Priya responded, as she took off her shorts and sat on het cot, her legs spread wide like a wanton slut. She began fingering her labia with her right hand, rubbing in a circular motion as the others watched. As her excitement rose, both from the stimulation and from being the center of attention in this prison show, Priya inserted two fingers of her left hand into her pussy.
She began rubbing harder, her toes curling, her breath coming in gasps, watching the other women watching her, until she felt the tingling sensation in her groin that told her she was nearing her climax. “I’m coming, almost there, Oh God,” Priya moaned as the pleasure ran through her whole body. There was a round of applause as Priya collapsed back on the cot.
“Good show, Priya,” Barb exclaimed. “They’re too cheap to have TV here, so we have to get our entertainment where we can.”
“Good night, guys,” Priya said, still a bit out of breath.