For Mo:bil - "Being fucked roughly while another writer watches for research. What would another lady say?" - best I can do at short notice.

****

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to do this you know.”

I nodded. “But you will be there if I should need help?”

She smiled. “I promise.”She sighed and nodded.

I unconsciously tugged on the hem of my short dress and Cathy looked me up and down approvingly. “You look every inch the whore.” She concluded. “Albeit a very classy one”

I smiled, wondering whether it was intended as a complement. “Come on then, let’s get on with it before I change my mind.”

Cathy had pulled a lot of strings to set this up, I’ve still no idea how she managed it. She linked my arm and together we left the governor’s office to find ourselves in a long bleak corridor. The walls were battleship grey and devoid of any adornments to lift our spirits and the click of my high heels on the tiles echoed as though a memory of earlier visitors. I doubted whether anyone who’d trod these floors had such a desperate and dangerous purpose.

My legs were like jelly and I gave thanks for Cathy’s support; without her hold on my arm I’d have certainly fled in terror.

We rounded a corner and a prison guard rattled his key in a steel door, its deep blue paint flaking and pealing so that only a trace of the original colour remained. Beyond it was a small depressing room, its walls scratched and damaged and painted the same miserable hue as the corridor. A guard sat at table, carefully completing visitor forms. We signed and waited and a moment later a woman entered, dressed in the same uniform as the guards, dark trousers and white shirt.

“This way.” She said abruptly, turning on her heel and exiting though a second door, reading the waiver I’d signed as she walked.

In the distance I could hear the hubbub of the prison. Inmates laughing and arguing boisterously, though their voices failed to carry the content of their petty disputes this far. She stopped without warning and led us into a small room, perhaps 10 feet square.

A window looked out onto a cell in which a mattress encased by a latex cover lay on the floor. The room looked grim and depressing, almost clinical in its emptiness. This was where he’d fuck me I thought, while spectators watched and jeered through the smoked glass.

“Undress please.” The guard ordered and I obeyed her without question. “We will not allow the prisoner access to anything that may be used as a weapon.” She explained, and I wondered if the woman ever smiled.

“Open your mouth.” She said and carefully examined my teeth and beneath my tongue to ensure that I’d not concealed anything. “On the table, face up and spread your legs.”

I’d expected a body search, but her thoroughness was as invasive as rape. A speculum was inserted into my vagina and I was opened like a flower, my gaping petals pink and swollen, stretched wide for the world to see. Not satisfied, a fibre optic cable was inserted and the image projected onto a small TV screen on the wall.

“Turn over.” The woman ordered bruskly.

A second oiled speculum, I assumed smaller than the first, was introduced into my rectum and gently opened. My face screwed, plainly displaying my discomfort. I watched the screen in horror as my bowels appeared and quickly vanished when the woman was satisfied that I was free of foreign bodies.

She removed her latex gloves and ran her fingers through my hair, before picking up a fine comb and searching my scalp.

“Ok.” She said at last. “You’re clean.”

I reached for my clothes, but her authority stopped me in my tracks “This is a conjugal visit.” She said matter-of-factly. “You won’t be needing those. Besides, it saves me going through your pockets.” A long dark robe hung on the door, but it wasn’t offered to me and so I stood naked, shaking in fear and apprehension, though I blamed it on the lack of radiators in the room.

“In a moment you will be escorted into the adjoining room.” She motioned towards the window. The glass is mirrored on the other side so neither you nor your partner will be able to see through.”

I wondered whether Cathy could see the panic in my eyes. I was trying to remain calm, but my heart was racing. ‘Why the fuck did I suggest this?’

“We’ll bring Jenkins in here and search him as we’ve searched you.” The warder said. “Once we’re satisfied, he will be introduced into the cell with you. Myself and two guards will be watching and listening and we’ll step as soon as you speak the code word. Can you remember the code word?”

“Catherine.” I repeated the word that I’d selected. “Can she stay?” I begged, looking across to Cathy

“OK.” She conceded, though her stern look reflected all of the rules she was breaking. Please step into the room.” At last she smiled reassuringly, though it did nothing to ease my trembling. “Last chance.” She said.

Cathy shrugged and shook her head, but I was determined to go through with it.

The cell was, if anything, colder than the adjoining room and I could feel the Goosebumps rising on my flesh as I paced the floor, arms wrapped around my body to preserve heat.

Minute after minute ticked by like hours, my terror gradually growing and spreading through me like amoeba on a petri dish. At last I heard clattering in the lock and I came close to wetting myself. The door swung open and a giant of a man ducked through the opening, a naked mass of tattooed filth and rippling muscle.

I cried out in despair, the word ‘Catherine’ ready on my lips, but I did not say it.

The monster assessed me as he would a $10 whore and to my shame, my eyes wandered to the enormous penis that dangled like a thick hose between his legs, its tip moist as dripping piss.

‘Oh god.’ I thought, shrinking in his presence. ‘Oh god save me.’

He staggered forward, his huge tree trunk legs making the floor shake and I involuntarily edged backwards until by back was against the wall.

His eyes were black and soulless and dried spittle had gathered in the corners of his mouth. Step by mighty step my dread multiplied, as his scarred and pockmarked flesh drew closer to me.

Huge paws reached out, his nails broken and yellow. I raised my arms in protection and his enormous fingers coiled around my wrists. Slowly and effortlessly he raised his arms until my toes lifted from the floor and I hung in mid-air before him, my breasts tantalisingly close to his face.

The man smiled, and the few teeth that remained in his mouth were stained brown and added decay to the foul rank breath that coated me in loathing.

“Please.” I begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

The creature laughed and dropped me onto the mattress were I sat cowering in his shadow. He seemed uncertain what he should do next and I was sure that as soon as he decided I would find myself calling for help.

Despite my abhorrence, I lay back and opened my legs. His cock was too limp to fuck me, but his mind had not yet reached that inevitability. He fell to his knees, hovering like a huge obelisk, poised to fall and crush me, but his heavy arms held him above me as he closed his eyes to inhale my natural perfume. Thick, clumsy fingers grasped a nipple, pulling and twisting and I cried out in surprised agony. Though similar punishment of its twin was expected, his touch was no less cruel and my cry was no less real. He massaged and kneed my breasts, nipping and tugging and uncaring of my sobs and weak protests. His hands strayed over my stomach, rough callouses scouring my skin like grit upon a silken sheet.

I tuned away so that I did not see the obscene excuse for a man abuse me.

For a moment his finger lingered at the door of my sex and with a single heartless thrust forced its way inside. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. Briefly he fucked me with his hand, amused at the squelching noise it produced, mistaking the lubrication used in my body search for my arousal.

I covered my face with my arms to hide the tears that flowed liberally, leaving my petite body open and unprotected.

Like a child with a new toy he quickly became bored and threw me onto my belly so that he could explore my ass. His access was more strained and despite the thick gel that coated the walls of my anus, his finger grated against my tender flesh. I screamed and wailed, but no one came to my aid.

To my relief he quickly withdrew after once delving knuckle deep in my ass. I lay in despair, my eyes screwed tight, my resolution ebbing and my courage threatening to desert me utterly. An almighty grip took my shoulders and lifted and turned me, throwing me onto the mat like a rag doll. My head cracked against the hard floor and for a moment my senses reeled.

I opened my eyes and pulled myself onto my knees, holding up a hand to tell the spectators behind the mirror that I was prepared to carry on. I turned towards him to find myself face to face with his cock, thicker now, but still not excited enough to penetrate me. His demand was clear and I slipped a hand beneath his member to raise it to my lips. Despite his flaccidity I struggled to take his rancid cock in my mouth. Its taste was as foul its smell and I could feel bile rising in my throat. I managed to swallow my poison, despite the odious gag and tried in vain to ignore my revulsion.

I gripped the back of his thighs and pushed his cock into my throat, easing back and repeating my penance. He groaned, fingers tangling in my hair as he guided me back and forth. I held my breath as best I could, but the nauseous stench continued to fill my lungs, threatening to make me vomit.

His hips began to buck as his erection grew, and I could not open my mouth wide enough to prevent my teeth raking down its length, yet he seemed not to care. My jaw ached, and yet the girth of his cock continued to swell with his excitement.

Abruptly he pulled back and I fell to the floor gasping. At once he was on top of me, throwing me onto my back his vicelike grip pinning my arms so firmly that I could feel bruises forming beneath my skin. I stole a glance to the throbbing beast that hovered between my legs and every muscle in my body tensed in anticipation.

He ripped into me in a single violent thrust, putting every ounce of his bulk behind the assault. I screamed, as he sheathed his full length, hips grinding into mine. He fucked me without thought or consideration, tearing into my flesh with offensive disregard, ignorant of my pain and hearing cries of desire rather than agonised screams.

Harder and harder he fucked; my legs weakening and voice fading. I was a fuck-toy beneath him, abused without complaint, though the tears streamed from my eyes in torrents. He came in great waves, hot cum filling me and spilling to the mattress as he pumped and growled like some guttural beast.

I was weeping openly, but the observers did not come to my aid, nor would they until I found the strength to cry out the name of my love, my Catherine.

With his cock dwindling inside, he refused to relinquish his prize, his woman, and his hips continued to pound into me with bone crushing force.

Fingers coiled around my throat and squeezed, gently at first, but becoming stronger in his desperation.

“Catherine!” I called, but the restriction on my windpipe prevented my cry from forming.

Saliva dripped from his thick quivering lips onto my cheek, the repugnant stench of his evil heart encompassing my weakening corpse.

“Catherine!” I croaked, more in longing than desperation. I imagined her upon me as my sight faded and my body flopped as the rancorous assault continued, though his cock was now limp and flapped uselessly against my belly.

In the darkness I heard a voice. “Morgana. Morgana, can you hear me.”

My eyes opened and above me hovered the face of my beloved, her tears dripping and mingling with my own.

I pulled myself onto my elbows, but the cell and the soiled mattress were gone and a strong antiseptic aroma filled the air; but even this could not drive out the stench that lingers still in my memory.

***

Cathy sat calmly at her laptop and tapped a pencil against a clean pad of paper, disturbed by my impatience, though she said nothing. She re-read the passage, graphic and descriptive, brimming with emotion and loathing.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Wow. I could feel every thrust of his cock, wept every tear she shed.”

I knew that the key to the entire novel had hinged on this single encounter between a convicted murderer and a prostitute whom he strangled after a brutal sexual assault. Without the power of that encounter the whole story would fall apart and as Cathy had so rightly stated, the emotion and intensity had been lacking.

Now they were real in every sense of the word.

 

I almost forgot to breathe as I read.

 

Who really knows where the story starts and reality invades?

 

This is the image I had in mind when I wrote this . . .

 

Interesting.

 

Very well done Morgana7 , enjoyed it immensely