The San Francisco Seven: The Escape
Written by Victor Field and TRL
Starring in alphabetical order: Nina Agdal, Gemma Arterton, Troian Bellisario, Monica Bellucci, Holly Marie Combs, Ariana Grande, Scarlett Johansson, Zoe Kravitz, Jennifer Lawrence, Blake Lively, Shay Mitchell, Taylor Momsen, Hayden Panettiere, Grace Park, Jaime Pressly, Maggie Q, Emma Roberts, Roselyn Sanchez, Kate Winslet, Olivia Wilde
Codes: FF, FFF, MF, MMF, con, oral, anal, catfight, mast, lact, voy
We’re now in the third part of the saga, and again thanks to Rawballz for kicking it off. Even though it should be obvious, these are all alternate universe versions of the ladies involved and what they get up to in this story is fictional and not aimed at under -18s. So no lawsuits, please.
Evil Rhona Mitra brings together thief-turned-realtor Roselyn Sanchez, thief/killer Jaime Pressly, computer expert Grace Park, family crook Shay Mitchell, nude safecracker Emma Roberts, friend to all men Blake Lively and friend to all vehicles Megan Fox to successfully rob the San Francisco Union Bank (with a little present left behind in the bank’s computers), kidnapping TV reporter Hayden Panettiere, bank teller JoAnna Garcia and schoolteacher Lucy Hale in the process and taking them when they split the cash and just plain split, with FBI agents Kristen Bell and Tammin Sursok (under the eye of their boss Jessica Biel) hellbent on tracking down the gang and bringing down Rhona (while Tammin is unhappy about her job, and about how Jessica’s secretary Beverley Mitchell may have more to do with the criminals than it seems). Lucy is seduced by some of the team while JoAnna finally gives in to her feelings for Shay and Hayden makes herself at home, unaware that her rival (and Mitra puppet) Ashley Benson has hospitalized her colleague/girlfriend Troian Bellisario and set her up to be arrested as part of the gang. Which she duly is, sentenced with the rest of the group to life imprisonment without possibility of parole. Now read on…
* * * * * * * * *
Monica Bellucci had the body of a goddess but the concerns of every other mortal being, such as having to wake up, battle traffic, and fight computers. At least she could do something about the second one by coming in very, very early.
She needed to get a jump start on work anyway; even though everyone at R.M. Housing had been just as stunned when the news broke about Roselyn as she had been, business was business – they hadn’t lost as many customers as feared, but it was still a bit tight. Monica believed in cycles, however, and as she got to the office entrance she knew that they would come out of this one sooner or later.
The brunette’s mouth dropped – Roselyn Sanchez being a felon had been the biggest shock she had gotten in recent times, but Jennifer Lawrence not only being on time but actually coming in before her came a very close second. The gorgeous young receptionist had a smile as bright as her newly dyed red hair, and she was even working on transcribing a report to boot.
“Just wrapping this up, and then I’ll have your first coffee of the day ready,” Jennifer continued cheerfully.
“Uh…thank you,” Monica replied, walking into her office.
Jennifer peered behind her to watch the boss walk in; she never got over how Monica couldn’t help sashaying around the place even when she wasn’t trying. Back to the typing…
Inside, Monica sat down to get her head into the game for the day; she would have to call back a couple of clients as soon as official opening hours started, and then she’d have to think about whether or not to look for another partner; the face of the business she may have been, but there were some people who Roselyn could handle better than her. It might be time for her to put some feelers out…
Coffee and two croissants were placed gently on her desk by Jennifer, leaning forward with a smile as she did. “This should perk you up,” she added.
Monica had a view down Jennifer’s top, but she knew she was talking about the coffee. Of course she was.
“I would be lying if I said it wouldn’t help,” the boss admitted as the receptionist stood by the desk. “It’s been six months, and I still can’t believe she did that…”
“None of us can,” Jennifer said, edging a little closer. “But look on the bright side – she never robbed us.”
“That’s something,” Monica admitted, sipping her coffee. “Ah, that’s excellent.”
“I do my best,” Jennifer said, by now practically next to her boss. Her hand casually reached over to Monica…
“What are you doing?” Monica asked, glancing up at the girl.
“I’m… I’m just trying to get some fluff off your top,” she said hastily, brushing the boss’s top firmly. “See? All gone.”
“There is no ‘fluff’ on my top,” the brunette told her. “Ariana would have told me. I don’t want any more liars in this office.”
Jennifer nodded, deciding to risk it all.
“I did have work to catch up on, but that’s not the main reason I came in early – the main reason is… you.”
Monica eyed her. “Did you want a raise so badly you had to get me first thing in the morning?”
“It’s nothing to do with money,” Jennifer told her, trying to keep her hands from going through Monica’s jet black hair. “It’s just that… look, I like boys. I *love* boys, in fact. But there’s only ever been two women to turn me on – Kim Basinger and you.”
Monica looked the receptionist over; she was looking back at her as if she had front row seats at a Jason Derulo concert. The smile on her face was bordering on hunger, and if Monica had looked closer at Jennifer’s top she’d have seen two little bumps signalling erect and ready nipples.
“This is never going to happen again,” she told Jennifer, getting to her feet, “so cherish every moment of it.”
San Francisco could have been powered for a week on the light shining in Jennifer’s eyes as Monica, after coming in to kiss the girl, rested her hands on the receptionist’s shoulders and lightly ran them along her arms and down to the edge of her top. “I must admit I am glad to do this to someone,” she admitted, lifting off Jennifer’s top and pulling it over her head. “Ariana doesn’t like me to go first.”
Monica smiled in delight on seeing Jennifer Lawrence’s breasts; bouncy, nice and perky, not unlike their owner. “Did you leave your bra at home for this occasion?” she asked, lightly licking each of her nipples.
“Actually, I never wear a bra,” Jennifer admitted as the boss circled an arm around her waist, stroking her back and sliding down to the rear of her jeans. “I never wear panties either.”
It might have been coincidence that Monica’s hand cupped Jennifer’s ass tighter than either of them had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the reason Miss Bellucci immediately unbuckled the young woman’s jeans as Jennifer finally brought herself to touch her boss. DAMN, she really was hot – in every sense. Jennifer moaned as she felt Monica’s warm skin, finding the zipper at the back of her dress and pulling it down; within moments it slipped off her body and landed on the carpet along with Jennifer’s legwear, leaving the receptionist completely naked while Monica’s black, lacy lingerie retained what she laughingly called her modesty.
“Kim Basinger, you say?” Monica murmured, kissing Jennifer’s neck and shoulderblades as the young woman felt her breasts. “You like older women, I take it.”
“Only the hot kind,” Jennifer laughed, freeing Monica’s exquisite boobs and rubbing and squeezing them with delight. She rubbed her own rack against them, happy to hear her boss sighing when their nipples touched, before licking each of Monica Bellucci’s generous breasts. Even if the rumours that she’d had a kid or two were true, there was still plenty of milk inside her; Jennifer pressed her face between them and shook her head back and forth.
“This is the ancient ritual known as ‘motorboating,’” she giggled, ruining the attempt to add a touch of National Geographic gravitas to their fucking.
“You have beautiful legs, Miss Lawrence…”
“Thank you, but call me Jennifer.”
“…and if I give you a raise,” Monica continued, spreading her fingers into the hot, soaking bush between her receptionist’s thighs, “will you show them more often?”
“It’s a deal,” the redhead groaned as the brunette sank to her knees and gently pushed Jennifer onto her desk, lying half on and half off with Monica between her legs, lapping away with years of practice on her side. Oh boy, Monica had such a mouth on her; her tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, and with each touch of her tip Jennifer was shaking. Her hands never stopped exploring as much of the young woman’s body as she could get to, and Jennifer knew that no one – NO ONE – had given her love button the kind of pleasing sucking that Monica had. Ariana Grande was the luckiest girl in the world to have this woman in her bed at night.
There was only one problem – Monica’s ass. It was beautiful and it was perfect, but it was also still covered. As her cunt somehow managed to get warmer from her boss’s lip action, Jennifer vowed to do something about that the second she got off this table…
“Don’t worry,” Monica murmured between licks. “You will get to put anything up my culo you want to…”
“Not before I do.”
Underling and superior both whipped heads to the door; another young woman was standing there in a coat, holding a pouch and glaring at them. She was a total cutie and almost certainly had herself a banging body under the coat, but there was fire in her eyes that immediately told Jennifer that Monica Bellucci did not wear the pants in their house, figuratively or literally. As if the unsettled look on the face of the boss wasn’t enough proof.
“Enjoying yourself, secretary?” Ariana Grande asked Jennifer, fitting enough venom in that last word to kill an elephant.
“I’m not her-“
“And what did I tell you about snacking on other women?” the newbie continued, turning to Monica. “Okay, she’s cute but come on… I GET FIRST CRACK! ALWAYS! Remember the time in Barbados?”
“What happened there?” Jennifer asked, curiosity overriding anger; she didn’t like interruptions.
“Well-“ Monica started before wilting under Ariana’s glance as her lover flung the pouch down on the table, unintentionally missing Jennifer’s head.
“You forgot those at home,” she announced. “I came by to drop them off, but now it looks like SOMEONE needs a lesson.”
“Yes,” the Italian said meekly, starting to get up from between Jennifer’s legs. “I’m sorry, Ariana – I…”
“Stay on the floor. You’re right where I want you,” Ariana snapped, moving behind Monica. “And as for you, ho, how’d you like to get head from a real expert?”
Seeing how cowed Monica was before a girl who looked like she was still in school, Jennifer was about to say yes when the other redhead shook her head. “First YOU eat ME,” she added, her hand fondling the boss’s upraised, panty-covered rear end. “Come here.”
Jennifer got off the table and went over to Ariana, stroking Monica with pride in her eyes. “Take a look at this,” she said, pulling off Monica’s panties; Jennifer felt herself go all woozy on being exposed to her boss’s gorgeous ass.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Ariana said, seeing the visible drool on the receptionist’s lips. “And check this out…” She spread open Monica’s rump, allowing her and Jennifer to look up close at her open cunt and asshole; Ariana tapped them both. With a finger, in this case, which she poked into the higher entrance.
“Sometimes I fuck this one for hours. Too bad you’ll never get to know how good it feels… but you can have mine, and you better make me come.”
“She isn’t kidding,” Monica whispered.
“Ah, you love it, don’t you?” Ariana laughed as she let her coat fall. From the waist up she was still covered to Jennifer’s visible disappointment, but from below she revealed two very lovely legs and an equally nice bush, which the receptionist noticed didn’t match the curtains. “You’re the boss of this place, you can sit down all day to get over it. Now get behind me and get to work, Strawberry Shortcake. “
As Jennifer got up, she felt a stinging slap on her butt with the hand staying on the flesh long enough to have a squeeze. “Almost as nice as mine,” Ariana chuckled.
Resisting the temptation to give her a hickey deep enough to draw blood, Jennifer headed behind Miss Grande as the latter rapidly checked out the desk – she hadn’t brought anything with her so she had to improvise. PERFECT; Monica had that little paperweight shaped like an Indian, complete with the sculpted headband with a sculpted feather pointing up. Pleased that the boss hadn’t moved an inch, Ariana picked it up and licked it all over; she figured that she might as well lube it up a little this time.
Ariana might have slid the Indian into Monica’s lovely tight cheeks at the same time as Jennifer’s tongue touched the newcomer’s rear entrance, but if not it was close enough to make no difference. Monica’s loud gasp as the wooden sculpture travelled back and forth inside her cunt was matched by the urgency with which Jennifer grabbed Ariana’s thighs; no wonder Monica was so in thrall to this girl – being in slavery was worth it if she was able to eat such a sweet little ass sometimes. Jennifer’s tongue licked up and down the path between the girl’s asshole and pussy as if she couldn’t make up her mind, and honestly she really couldn’t. She had Monica Bellucci’s exquisite rear end in her mind all the time as she munched on Ariana, which wasn’t helping her pussy drip any less – Monica’s ass was one of those things you never forgot once you saw it.
In her mind Jennifer could see Monica gasping and writhing as the younger woman fucked her deep and hard; she let a hand stray between Ariana’s legs, and moved it further through the gap and reached up. Oh yes, there it was… her tongue flicked and licked harder as the receptionist’s fingers poked into Monica’s wet, warm, well-thatched cunt; she stroked and probed the boss as she munched on the boss’s wife.
“Nice going, red…” Ariana grunted. “I’ll let you play with Monica a bit more later if you make me come in the next five minutes…”
Jennifer rose to the challenge, doing her best to give Ariana her best tongue-lashing ever. On her knees she felt herself starting to soak onto the carpet as her face buried itself between Ariana’s pale, soft cushions, nothing on her mind but how deep and tender her asshole was. She found herself starting to scream into the deepest recesses of Ariana’s ass, licking and sucking away and enjoying how the woman was jerking back and forth as she ground against her boss.
“Ooohhh… oh yeah baby… you just keep sucking that ass, girlie…” Ariana thrashed in between Jennifer’s mouth and Monica’s mounds, as the air filled with a rising stream of lusty Italian words – what Monica was saying neither Jennifer nor Ariana could understand, but if it was the Italian for “Fuck me, Ariana! Fuck me HARDER! HARDER, DAMMIT, HARDER!” they wouldn’t have been surprised.
Feeling Monica’s pussy soaking her fingertips, Jennifer’s howls were muffled by Ariana’s seat; when her tongue made a quick return trip to Miss Grande’s cunt she was ecstatic to find it also definitely soaking, with a pleasantly musky taste. The moans Ariana was coming out with had “Mission accomplished” all over them, but Jennifer wanted to munch a little longer…
“Do you like… women in uniform…?” Ariana panted.
“Mmm… yeah…” Jennifer sighed, pulling her head back to look at how Ariana’s asshole was looking after her mouth had handled it. She’d worked on it long enough that something could pop in there without anything else required to lube it up, she’d bet – and soon she’d finally get to give Monica the treatment as she’d dreamed of ever since she joined.
“So do I…” Monica groaned.
From behind, Jennifer felt a hand resting on her shoulder. The gorgeous receptionist cracked a grin; round two was about to begin. The grin got wider when she felt another hand grab her wrist and slip a handcuff on; she loved a little RP.
“What’s the charge?” she asked demurely, turning to face the newcomer. “And is there any way I can get out of it…?”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” said the younger of the two officers standing there. “We’re straight, and you’re under arrest.”
“I know I am,” Jennifer said, playing along. She’d done the “cops saying they’re straight being turned by a hot young thing” game before. “But maybe we could… shorten the sentence?”
“Sorry, sexy,” Ariana grinned. “They’re for real.”
“Wh… what? There’s gotta be a mistake!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Lawrence…” Monica sighed, still lying on the desk. “And I won’t call you Jennifer, because no one who steals from my company is a friend.”
“I… uh… I… I DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING!”
“Then how’d the 800 grand from RM Housing’s account end up in yours?” Ariana asked, in between shivers of delight – she may have been a thief but the girl knew how to eat ass and pussy.
“I don’t know – I swear! I was set up – I did NOT DO IT!”
“You have worked in a bank before, correct?” the older officer asked, both she and her friend doing a perfect job of ignoring the fanservice.
“Yeah, but I was a secretary there as well!” Jennifer protested.
“So you probably have some kind of knowledge of how their systems would work,” the younger one continued, ignoring her protests as well as the fanservice. “And if this was a mistake, why didn’t you come forward to your boss?”
“BECAUSE I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS HER MONEY, YOU FUCKING MORON!” Jennifer screamed as they took her by the arms. “Monica, I didn’t take it… you gotta believe me!”
“Why should I?” she asked, looking at her as the cops escorted her out. “You may be beautiful, but you’re also fired. I do not give second chances to thieves – I already made that mistake with my ex-partner.”
“Oh, by the way,” Ariana added with a wide smile, “I’ve had better head from guys. Work on it while you’re in jail.”
“GO TO HELL!” Jennifer snarled at Miss Grande before looking pleadingly at her boss, receding as she was dragged out still naked. “Monica, I swear to you I didn’t do it – IT’S A SET UP, PLEASE! I DIDN’T DO IT! I DIDN’T…”
* * * * * * * * * *
“…DO IT! I didn’t…” she finished plaintively as the dream ended, bringing her back to the reality of her prison cell.
Monica hadn’t believed her. She had even testified at the trial that Jennifer had had some money troubles and been turned down for a raise, both of which were true – but it was also true that Jennifer had accepted it and decided to wait until things got better. And there had been no way she could prove she had no idea how the money got there. Not for the first time, Jennifer wished she had the son or daughter of a bitch who had framed her right next to her – sometimes she imagined she’d be back in jail for murder, but at least this time she would definitely have done it.
“Hey, Lawrence – who’s this Monica? She sounds fun,” the blowsy blonde on the bunk above her said with a grin.
“Yeah,” Jennifer told Denise Welch, her cellmate for the past six months. “Yeah, she was.”
* * * * * * * * *
There were worse places for the Remy Hadley Correctional Facility for Women to be set than in the Sierra Nevada mountains; the winters weren’t that extreme, and the summers were… well, they were in California. But a prison in paradise was still a prison, even in summer, and even on a summer morning.
Shay Mitchell liked being awake early in the morning; always had been, from when she was a kid. She’d actually been awake for a few hours beforehand, out of bed long before her cellmate. Which was just the way she liked and wanted it.
Putting her and Blake Lively together had worked out fine for them; before lights out on the first night the blonde had admitted to Shay she was glad she’d drawn her.
“Why?” the coffee-coloured woman had asked.
“Because you were the only one of the bunch who never came on to me,” Blake had said with a relieved smile.
“I’m all about Emma,” Shay had told her.
“Yeah, I heard…”
That had been half-true; Shay was certainly in love with Emma Roberts, but both she and Emma had no problems at all with sleeping with other women. And she had let Blake take the top bunk for a reason – she rarely let a night go by without trying to take at least a little peek as the blonde climbed up to bed, and she never woke up without looking at the indentation in the mattress above her head. Sometimes she brushed a hand along the mattress, usually at around the point where Blake’s ass was, but this morning she was up, sitting by the window and letting her eyes go from the sunrise to the sleeping Blake, lying prone and slumbering.
Shay gradually spent less time on the sky and more on the lady, until finally she abandoned all pretence and walked over to the bunk, gazing on sleeping beauty. Blake was on top of the blanket, lying on her side and facing away from the wall, and her prison-issue nightdress – which was suspiciously short – was displaying a pleasing amount of leg, the better to please Remy Hadley’s male guards with. For an instant, Shay imagined she could pull off a repeat of that wonderful night last month…
No. Even though she still had heated memories of the time she had managed to run her fingers through Blake Lively’s lovely trimmed pussy, letting the finger tips touch that perfect little lovebutton and even succeeding where Grace Park had failed by getting a close look at it, she didn’t dare go for a repeat. Shay knew her cellmate’s sleeping habits, and she knew when Blake was in a deep enough sleep that she could risk it; that, not any of the assorted excuses she’d given over the past six months, was why she liked to go to bed early.
Shay watched her chest rise and fall as she slept, wondering what or who she was dreaming about; probably dreaming of being free, like they all did at one time or another. She hoped Blake was thinking about being at a party entertaining some rich guy or other, so it would fit with what was coming up.
Brushing aside her tresses and lightly and slowly moving her hand down the blonde’s arm, Shay leaned in and gently kissed Blake’s neck and available shoulder; she knew that she had to be careful not to move her around too much. Rejoicing that it was warm, Shay caressed Blake; one hand was soon resting between her legs, the other lightly touching the blonde’s behind and wishing that it was a few hours later – the shower room was usually the only opportunity Shay, and most of the other prisoners, had to really examine Blake’s beautiful rump. If only she was sleeping on her front; Shay Mitchell had gotten the opportunity to slowly move back her cellmate’s nightdress, gently stroke the exposed cheeks and give the deep cleft between them a tender little kiss. But that had never happened again.
She contented herself with moving her fingers all over the sleeping blonde, probing and stroking as much of Blake’s exposed skin as she could while Miss Mitchell’s other hand reaped the benefits, fondling and fingerfucking herself. Shay noticed the swell of her breasts underneath her top, trying to lift the top up was too dangerous, but it was a lot safer to slip a hand underneath the edge of it, slide it up like a snake sloooowly….
The dusky woman sighed as her hand of choice found one of Blake’s chest-orbs, fingers fondling the nipple. She envied men, what with them having more of a chance to lick this than she ever would – unless Blake eventually got so at ease in Shay’s company that she decided to sleep in the nude, and she was under no illusions that that was EVER going to happen. Shay’s other hand sank between her legs as she explored the blonde, willing herself to keep silent – but Blake was a bit too hot for that to happen. Her breathing started to speed up as she practically bit herself to keep from giving in to the urge to throw caution to the wind and rip her cellmate’s clothes off…
Then Shay remembered that it was almost that time again. She removed her hand from Blake’s shirt as fast as she dared, her other hand soaking from her own cunt, and returned to her bed shaking and sweaty. It was not a moment too soon; she heard footsteps coming down the corridor, accompanied by someone whistling a cheerful little tune. It was Vance, one of the guards cursed with Y-chromosomes.
The whistling guard stopped outside the cell, unlocked it and went over to the table, bare but for a small jar. Shay, not bothering to pretend to sleep, watched as he took it, opened it and unzipped his pants. The dark-haired beauty wrinkled her nose as his brown, impressive-to-some-women penis came out and he covered it with the cream in the jar from tip to sac, walked over to the bunk, unzipping his pants as he climbed up to the definitely still asleep Blake.
He was out of sight but not out of vision; within seconds the top bunk started to vibrate, punctuated by Vance’s grunts as he pushed his rod in and out of the slumbering Blake’s ass. There were other, smaller sounds mixing with his own; not grunts, but little feminine gasps.
As Shay listened and tried not to feel envious, she wondered what would have happened if Blake hadn’t left the jar out for him, like she had practically every night. That was the sign for when she expected one of the guards to come in and help himself to some tasty Blake Lively desert.
Shay waited for Blake to come/wake up with a mixture of guilt and regret; this wasn’t the first time she’d felt her cellmate, but it would be the last.
She’d told herself that before, but this time she meant it. After today she wouldn’t get a chance to break her word.
* * * * * * * * *
Silver-haired sixty-something lifer Helen Mirren met the eyes of dark-haired younger lifer Emma Roberts as they passed each other in the corridor towards the warden’s office, where the latter was being escorted by guard Maggie. Horny Helen, as the other prisoners dubbed her for her inability to keep from going after anything with tits (even by the place’s standards), gave the girl a knowing glance.
“Not in a million years,” Emma told her.
“I can wait,” Helen laughed. “Especially after the sneak preview you gave me.”
The now 20-year-old Emma had made the mistake of sharing a shower with Helen, and it had been the longest cleansing of her young life. Helen was watching Emma like a hawk throughout, and even though the older woman had never actually stopped cleaning herself Emma felt as if her hands were pawing her instead of rubbing the soap inside. She could practically feel Helen’s eyes panning up and down her naked body as if she was starring in a porn movie – she almost expected to hear sleazy saxophones or low-budget synths in the air.
And it wasn’t like she was the only unattractive convict in Remy Hadley who had the hots for her or the other members of the San Francisco Eight, either; Emma remembered the day they’d arrived and the way Blake Lively had visibly recoiled when someone who she later learned was called Sarah Jessica Parker commented on looking forward to sucking on the blonde’s rack. Emma also remembered cackling over Blake’s discomfort; she would never have imagined that she’d end up knowing EXACTLY what it felt like. Sympathy for the devil was one thing, but sympathy for Blake Christina Lively…?
One good thing had come out of all this, the safecracker reflected as Maggie escorted her into the warden’s office; ever since that first weekend she was basically protected property, one of the chosen few.
“Tell the big boss her Thursday regular’s in,” the Asian looker told the man behind the desk.
“Why is it always so early?” Emma asked Maggie as he did so.
“She likes to start the day right,” the guard replied. “Too bad you’re not British.”
“Oh, you like the accents?”
“No, but if you were she’d get sick of you sooner – off limits until then.”
“Awww, I’m so sorry,” Emma lied as the door opened.
The girl entered the warden’s inner sanctum, hearing the door shut and lock behind her. The second it was done, Emma turned around and rested her hands on the panelling, her legs spread as if about to be searched.
“You do that very well,” the warden said cheerfully. “But I think I do it better.”
Emma turned back to face Warden Kate Winslet, who was standing by the far wall in a similar position – only completely naked, presenting the young woman with plenty of prime pink rump.
“If it helps, you certainly do it better than Helen,” the warden continued as Emma approached her while shedding her prisoner uniform, knowing that on the other side of that lovely back were Kate’s heavy funbags. “I don’t know why I keep on with her.”
“Maybe you like English accents?” the girl asked as she pressed her now-freed crotch against Kate’s ass and wrapped her arms around the warden, making sure to get one forearm on the warden’s large, soft rack.
“Up to a point,” Kate smiled, turning her head to kiss Emma. “Up to a point.”
She then turned her whole body around, Emma enjoying the sensation as Kate faced her. The warden was full-figured, and a happily married mother whose husband trusted her around men, believing she’d never go near anyone who was interested in her. He was half right – she never slept with men, preferring instead to have her pick of the women and girls under her command. Whether it was because she was the warden and could make their life a living hell if they said no, or because she wasn’t the last warden (the reign of Warden Kathy Bates was not one anyone there wanted to remember), none of them had turned her down.
Emma Roberts caressed Kate Winslet’s milksacks. “I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she whispered, and bent her head, taking one of Kate’s large nipples between her lips and envying her kids (while hoping her daughter would grow up to look like her mother). The warden gently stroked Emma’s head as it lay there, slowly bobbing up and down as the young woman tasted the succulent tip, her hands roaming the warden.
Kate took Emma in her arms, lifting her off the ground and carrying her across the office to her couch. “It’s that time again,” she said, feeling Emma’s hands slipping down her back.
“I can’t believe he won’t do you in there,” the safecracker mumbled into Kate’s chest, pressing one of her fingers into the warden’s ass.
“He doesn’t like it,” she replied. “Ben’s strictly missionary. He won’t go down on me either; says he tried it once with his first girlfriend and didn’t like it.”
“Was it his fault she didn’t taste good?”
“He’s a good man, really,” Kate admitted, lowering Emma onto the couch and getting on top of her, looking at the girl’s lovely small boobs. “Just a bit… conservative.”
“The C word. Ouch,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose before they kissed.
Kate patted Emma’s side before getting up. “Make yourself comfortable and we’ll be set in a moment,” she told her, walking over to her cabinet and doing so slowly; Kate knew Emma was checking out her juicy behind, and loved it.
Emma WAS checking out her juicy behind. And loving it; the young woman’s slim digits moved between her legs, spreading her cunt lips and touching her little clit. Emma rolled it as she sat back on the couch, watching Kate open the doors of the cabinet to reveal several bookshelves, and three cameras – one on each shelf, all aimed towards the couch. The warden switched each one on checked to make sure their focuses were correct and that each had the lens zeroing in where she wanted in (one in a master shot, one closer focusing on the east half of the couch, the other going for the western side), and then strolled back to the waiting safecracker, now thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy as her eyes went over the warden.
“I’ve been a bad, bad prisoner,” Emma pouted, wriggling about on the couch as Kate moved by her and to the side, the better for the three cameras to capture the action. “I’m in here because I love fucking myself too much…”
This was one of those times Emma wished she had a rack like the warden, or even that Kardashian girl with the huge ass who was always getting her parole turned down – lifting a breast up to her mouth with her free hand so she could lick her own nipple was always a bonus. Still, you gotta work with what you got; Emma’s middle finger was busy sliding in and out of her hot little pink envelope, and if she hadn’t had cameras on her she’d have popped it into her mouth… oh, what the heck. Miss Roberts took the finger out and licked it off, conceited enough to think she had a great tasting pussy and sorry enough that she wasn’t limber enough to be able to eat herself out.
“Turn around,” Kate said, “and don’t forget to spread it.”
“Like *I’d* forget,” Emma tut-tutted, and just as Blake had done back at the hideout she moved her slim body around, only unlike Blake she KNEW she had an audience. Kate knew from experience that she had to wait a little to let the cameras have time to get enough of the girl’s open rear and her fingers fondling her snatch before she could get in there, but the younger the lady was the harder it was for her to wait. And Emma looked younger than 20, her fast hand searching out all the parts of her girlbits that buzzed her up, asshole tight and unvisited by dicks… she was writhing around on the sofa as if she was putting on a show, which she sort of was, but it was mostly all for herself.
Kate nipped in and bit the cheek that didn’t have a scar on it, her teeth sinking into the flesh and sucking on the part she’d had in her mouth. Emma, her body heating up and her snatch soaking, turned back around and opened her legs wider, waiting for the warden to start snacking.
“Not today,” she panted, pulling herself up and kissing Emma’s tits. “You haven’t finished breakfast yet.”
Kate levered herself up further, resting her form on Emma’s mouth; the girl didn’t need any urging to thrust her tongue into the warden’s gorgeous English country garden. Kate Winslet’s plush, plump pussy was one of the fringe benefits of being in prison; she smelt and tasted like… like… Emma didn’t really know what she tasted like and didn’t care – she just wanted to suck on Kate’s fat clit until she was paroled (so basically forever). Her pussy thatch was lovely as well; Emma liked it shaved the best, but Kate’s was lovely and silky to run through. Pinching and probing the warden’s buns as she licked was the icing on the cake.
There was nothing but approving murmurs from Emma and sighs from Kate for the next several minutes as the girl’s mouth and fingers did their work; Kate stroked what parts of Emma she could reach as the young woman did for her what her husband tried to do but only rarely did. Kate began to thrust away under the constant caressing and sucking, her body jiggling and pumping as she started to surrender herself to the prisoner. Emma, for her part, was giving in to the warden’s warm body like she hadn’t done since – since last time.
“Stop….” Kate moaned, and Emma reluctantly let her mouth go as she watched the warden move down her body. The safecracker took in a few breaths as she waited for Kate’s experienced mouth to munch on her; she loved it the last time…
Something brushed against her box. It was soft, but it wasn’t a mouth. Too pointed to be a tongue… Emma looked down, and was greeted by Kate smiling up at her, holding one of her breasts and aiming it at her cunt. The pert, erect nipple played with her clit, making Emma tremble with joy; she carefully spread open her box, feeling the warden guide the areola inside – both woman sighed on contact.
Emma pushed herself forward a little so her cuntwalls moved over Kate’s nipple, not much, but enough. The older woman moved the tit inside the small space, feeling the tip somehow get even harder with the secretions inside the safecracker – Kate molded and squeezed the breast as they moved, and broke into a wide grin when she actually felt a few droplets of breast milk seep out and enter Emma. From the girl’s gasp, she knew that Emma felt it too.
“Now isn’t that better than guys?” Kate laughed.
“And no kids…” Emma moaned, feeling the nipple teasing her insides and her walls starting to oil up. Oh man, this was so good – her own pussy and Kate’s tit were two great tastes… the young woman wrapped her legs around Kate’s torso, stroking her as the boob probed her; she wished today was a public holiday or something, then she could spend all day coming over this big beautiful kind lady’s chest. As Emma thrashed around she got a look at Kate’s other breast, free and gorgeous.
That did it; gasping to the ceiling, Emma’s body shuddered as she let herself go, the familiar glow shooting through her body. She didn’t want to lose Kate’s nipple, but she kept every last second of the sensation of it leaving her pussy; she collapsed back onto the couch as the warden hefted her tit, slowly licking it off for Emma’s benefit.
“Very tasty,” Kate told her approvingly.
“Same here,” Emma sighed, eyeing the warden’s snatch.
“Stay here until you’ve come down,” Kate told her as she dressed. “Tomorrow night I shall have to work a little late here, and you will have to be summoned for… oh, I’ll think of something.”
“Isn’t tomorrow Rachel Bilson’s turn?”
“She was released last week; time off for good behaviour. Too bad; I was hoping to enjoy those lovely jugs of hers one more time.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right… I heard there was a new girl in. Some cutie called Sarah Shahi or something.”
“One door closes, another opens. Anyway,” Kate continued, “the next time I’ll see to it that I have time to enjoy your cute little bottom.”
“And vice versa,” Emma laughed, pinching the warden. “About time I got to slide something up that big Brit booty.”
If she was unlucky, she thought. As lovely as Warden Winslet’s body was, if she was lucky today would be the last time.
* * * * * * * * *
Being as she was in solitary confinement, Roselyn Sanchez hadn’t seen much of the lovely mountain scenery or the well-laid-out prison grounds for the past few days. But on the upside, where she HAD been she’d been spared her the sight of her cellmate.
Whoever decided to put her and Jaime Pressly in the same cell either didn’t know about their past history or DID know and had a sick sense of humour; they’d spent their time together ignoring each other or arguing. They also hadn’t been getting much sleep; neither of them was willing to drop their guard around the other, making for long and restless nights. But things hadn’t really caught fire until two weeks ago.
Although none of the women – with the obvious exception of Blake – had been averse to getting and giving affection among the prison population, no one had been as determined to get some as Jaime; not a day had gone by when she hadn’t bedded one of the other convicts, whether they wanted to or not. The word had soon spread to stay the hell away from Jaime Pressly, and now the entire prison population avoided her like the plague, except for the other members of the gang; this also meant that no one dared to go into the showers until Jaime was finished, which suited Miss P just fine – it meant that she got to have first crack at the hot water.
Most days, anyway; that morning Jaime’s eyes narrowed when she stepped into the bathroom and saw Zoe Kravitz humming to herself under the shower jets as she cleansed her form. She was a total fox, admittedly, but the more hot water this one got the less she herself would; the girl’s rack wasn’t that nice.
Zoe turned a bit to the side, and Jaime reflected that okay, her rack WAS that nice. Still glaring, she started to do her own bathing as the girl continued to hum; but in between soap dabs she stole quick looks at the brown-hued beauty near her. Gradually they became less quick, and the space between the two started to reduce as the blonde edged closer.
Zoe’s lovely body was almost completely cleaned when Jaime was practically touching her; it pleased the blonde that Miss Kravitz had her fingers energetically washing her snatch out. Roselyn probably liked it too; in fact, Jaime knew for a fact that Roselyn liked it, as she’d spotted the two of them in the gym when they thought no one was around. Much as she hated to admit it, the sight of the boss on her knees in front of Zoe licking out her box while the girl moved around in heat was not something she regretted.
“That’s a nice package you got there, kid,” Jaime said as amiably as she could.
Zoe nervously looked at the older lady. “Um… thanks,” she replied.
“Oh, relax. I ain’t gonna eat you. Not that way, anyway… looks to me like you could do with a little something to get the day off right, know what I mean?”
“I’m good, thanks…” Zoe turned the water off. “It’s all yours, Jaime.”
“Right on both counts, sis,” Jaime grinned, taking Zoe’s arm. Hard. “You ARE good, and it’s all mine…”
“Please, not today,” said the prisoner, wincing. “I know you like to hurt…”
“It ain’t gonna hurt ME,” the blonde cackled. “On your knees, Mocha Tits, and let’s see if you can make me scream like you did to-“
“We got us a mind reader here! So you know what I…”
“She isn’t a mind reader,” Roselyn Sanchez said flatly behind her. “And you are not going to rape her today. Or any day.”
“RAPE?!?” Jaime laughed, glancing over her shoulder to look at her colleague. “I don’t rape – everyone I fuck wants it. I mean they want it from ME, of course…”
“Shut up. She won’t hurt you, Alicia.”
“Huh?” Jaime asked. “Ain’t her name Zoo or some shit like that?”
Zoe glanced at Roselyn, who shook her head; it wasn’t Jaime’s business.
“Oh, I get it – like playing games, right? Well, I got a new game for you, sugar…”
It was Roselyn’s turn to grab an arm, pulling Jaime up short. “It’s called ‘Leave Her Alone Or You’ll Regret It.’”
“You ain’t my mom, Chiquita Banana! Hell, even my MOM didn’t talk to me like that!” But she did let go of Zoe, her anger rising at how uppity Roselyn was getting again – and how fast Zoe got out of the shower, wrapping her towel around her as she fled. Both robbers watched her leave, and neither could resist a smile at the glimpse of Zoe’s bobbing buns before the towel hid them.
Jaime’s smile vanished, but not before Roselyn spotted it – and slapped her hard across the face. “That is ALL you’ll ever be able to do with her; just smile.”
“Still be more than what you can do when I’m through with you,” the blonde snapped, and slammed her head into Roselyn’s.
The pain shot through her skull, followed by more ache when Jaime cracked a hand across her face, causing her to slip stunned. Jaime cannoned into Roselyn and the two landed on the shower tiles, more agony firing up the Latina’s body – and she scratched Jaime’s face in rage, kicking up at her as she did so. The foot didn’t hurt much, but there were a couple of red streaks across the blonde’s face.
Jaime aimed her fingernails at Roselyn for payback, but the dark-haired woman grabbed the hand and wrenched it aside, managing to throw her over and send her hitting the wall and floor. She was there long enough for Roselyn to punch her hard in the stomach – “Still think I can’t hit?!?” she spat.
Roselyn took a fist to the eye as Jaime scrambled up, yelling “Not as hard as me!” and following it with another blow, following that by grabbing the Sanchez sacks and twisting both as hard as she could. Which was REAL hard; howling, Roselyn got hold of Jaime’s hair and yanked her head back, managing to whirl her around and throw her. Losing her balance on the soaked floor, Jaime stumbled and crashlanded by the door, and before she could get up Roselyn had kicked her out of the room; she’d taken enough water with her so she actually slid out into the corridor, which would have been a surprise for any women waiting if there’d been any. But as Jaime found out when Roselyn charged out after her when she started to her feet, it wasn’t over yet.
The two women clawed at each other, slamming into the walls and floor, both kicking and biting and swearing. “IF THEY HAD TUBS IN THERE I’D HAVE DROWNED YOU!” Jaime yelled, thumping Roselyn’s head again and shouting in pain as her enemy shoved two fingers into her crotch, clasped her clit between them and squeezed hard enough to almost burst it. Feeling a hand on her arm, Roselyn instinctively jerked an elbow back…
…and that was what landed them in solitary.
Even if they hadn’t been scrapping in the corridors, hitting one of the guards in the face and knocking out two of her teeth was a no-no. The one good thing about it, apart from the fact that it was Jane Lynch (disparagingly known as Jane the Pain – due to her being the only guard in the place other than Cate “the Straight” Blanchett who never, but never, looked the other way… and yes, her nickname was also because Cate was the only guard, male or female, who couldn’t be swayed with sex), was that Jaime had taken as much of the fall as Roselyn had, even though it hadn’t been blonde-on-blonde violence. Regardless, once they’d mopped the floor up (rub it in, huh?) the two had been carted off to solitary confinement for two whole weeks.
Roselyn didn’t know or care what Jaime had been doing in there, but she knew what she was doing – counting down the days till she was out of the little cramped cell, and thinking about Alicia. The real Alicia, not the gorgeous convict who’d approached her one month into her stay at Remy Hadley and who Roselyn had bedded that evening, who’d begged for her kisses and who had agreed to Roselyn’s only request – that she be called Alicia instead of Zoe.
No, it was the Alicia who had been devastated when the truth had come out. The Alicia who hadn’t turned up for the trial – at first. The Alicia who had been there in the later stages. The Alicia who had come to visit her every other week, and had told her on the first visit that whatever happened she was her Popi and they were together, no matter what. And the Alicia who was due to come to see her… today.
Perfect timing; out of this cell today, and later on meeting Alicia for the last time in prison. The next time, she’d be free.
* * * * * * * * * *
Jaime had been the angriest of the gang on her capture, at her sentencing, and every day since she’d been a guest of Remy Hadley. She couldn’t blame her treatment – they could have been living in Buckingham Palace and she’d have been furious.
Yeah, they’d had a fight, but the real cause had been before that – it was the car. It still pissed her off that somehow they’d been tracked down, when she KNEW that no one but no one had seen her heist it. And it wasn’t like it had some kind of alarm or something in the system that could track it down either; the model they’d gotten was several years too old for that. Plus she’d never taken her eyes off midget reporter girl, so she couldn’t have gotten a message out to anyone.
But apparently someone had. Someone had tracked them.
Jaime heard the door on her cell starting to unlock, and unclenched her fists. This wasn’t the time to get violent; sooner or later, though, she was going to find out who’d told the cops. And she was going to kill them. Slowly.
* * * * * * * * * *
Remy Hadley Correctional Facility for Women didn’t exactly provide someone with a lot of privacy – almost every room had either windows or a barred wall that allowed guards to look in on the prisoners as they did everything from change clothes to use the toilet to making love with their roommates. It was nerve-wracking, at first, but most prisoners eventually got used to it enough to tolerate it.
For someone who didn’t mind her body being ogled, like Grace Park, it wasn’t that big of an issue. She often hung around in her cell wearing just her panties, no concerns that any of the other prisoners might see her perky little breasts on full display. Ever her cellmate, Lauren German, didn’t seem to mind, despite her own shy nature – Lauren changed underneath her blanket, and despite being in Remy Hadley longer than Grace had been, still blushed every time she had to use the toilet in front of someone else.
Of course, Lauren didn’t seem to be embarrassed enough to keep from sliding into Grace’s bed every third night for some much needed sexual relief.
Such had been the case last night, and Lauren was already back in her own bunk, sliding into her prison uniform while Grace eased herself out of bed, giving the girls across the hall a good look at her naked body.
“Don’t suppose you want a little morning pick-me-up?” Grace asked.
“We just did it last night,” Lauren said in a hushed voice. “How insatiable are you?”
“Very,” Grace said, luridly stroking her exposed crotch with one hand while rubbing the sleep dust out of her eyes with the other.
“Park! Get some clothes on before you rile up the entire wing!” a harsh, British voice demanded from outside the cell. Grace turned around, and wasn’t at all surprised to see a gorgeous, dark-haired guard standing just outside their cell. Dressed in a uniform shirt that was easily two sizes too small for her, and her pants, while regulation, didn’t QUITE cover the top of her ass-crack in the back, and were practically painted upon her legs, they were so tight.
“Oh, what is it today, Officer Arterton?” Grace asked, neither moving, or covering her nudity. “Warden can’t work her iPhone?”
“Quiet yourself, Park, and get dressed. The WiFi in the waiting room is down again,” Guard Gemma Arterton snapped.
Grace rolled her eyes, but reached for her clothes anyway. “This is becoming a daily thing, Gemma,” Grace muttered.
“The WiFi does go out a lot down there,” Lauren said, coming out from under her covers now clad in her prisoner’s uniform.
“Place wasn’t built for the internet age. Now, back against the wall, German,” Arterton said, pulling out her billy club. Lauren knew the routine. She backed up to the far wall, turned around and put her hands on the bars in the small window. By the time she’d done this, Grace had pulled her own shirt on over her naked body, and was stepping into her pants as the guard signaled for the door to be unlocked.
“Come along, Miss Wizard – time to earn your perks,” Gemma said, taking Grace by the arm and pulling her out of the cell. The door closed behind them, leaving Lauren alone for the time being, while the computer criminal was escorted down the hallway.
The guard and the prisoner walked in silence down the hallway, though they both received a few whistles from the other prisoners. Grace was a bit of a running joke between the other prisoners – when most guards took prisoners somewhere else, it was for sexual reasons. For Grace, it was for Tech Support.
Gemma led the nerdy prisoner out of the main cellblock and down two flights of stairs, to the first level. But instead of turning right towards the visitor’s area, they turned left, entered another guarded hallway, and soon found themselves in one of the private interrogation rooms, where prisoners could be questioned by officials, or meet with their lawyers, more-or-less in private. Certainly no other prisoners could see what happened in the room, though Grace had long suspected there might be a hidden camera or two in the room.
“Strip,” Gemma ordered, though Grace was already dropping her pants – she’d purposefully left her prison issue underwear back at her cell. A minute later, Grace was as naked as she’d been when she woke up, and Gemma was shoving her up against the table, bending the prisoner over at the waist and spreading her legs.
“Must we do this EVERY time, Gemma?” Grace asked as the guard quickly searched grace’s discarded uniform.
“Yes,” Gemma said flatly as she dropped the uniform and moved to stand behind Grace. The prisoner shuddered a bit as she heard the tell-tale snapping of a plastic glove. Grace took a deep breath, and almost immediately felt the harsh presence of Gemma’s hand penetrating her pussy from behind.
Grace had suffered through a lot of cavity searches since her arrest, but no one took them as seriously as Gemma Arterton did.
But at least Gemma didn’t forget about Grace. As her fingers probed the deepest recesses of Grace’s vaginal opening, Gemma’s thumb almost lazily circled the prisoner’s clit, sending some very nice sensations throughout her body.
“Nothing there,” Gemma said. “This time.”
“Yeah, one day I’m totally going to hide a gun up there,” Grace responded snarkily.
“And I just hope I’m to one searching you that day,” Gemma said, pushing down on the small of Grace’s back. “Time for the anal exam.” With no more warning than that, two fingers entered Grace’s ass. Grace bit her lip, but managed to not cry out in pain and surprise. She had known it was coming, after all. And in some cases, she’d consider this the good end to a good date. But Gemma was particularly thorough.
“Jeeze, any higher and you’ll be tasting what I have for breakfast before I do,” Grace muttered. “Do you ALWAYS have to be so rough?”
“Yes,” Gemma said, leaning over until her body was pressed directly against Grace’s back, the guard’s larger tits pressing hard against Grace’s skin, with only the thin fabric of the uniform top between them. “Because it turns me on so fucking much,” Gemma whispered in Grace’s ear.
“Then I hope you’re all hot and bothered, Gemma, because you know I am,” Grace said as Gemma’s free hand reached around the prisoner to grope one of Grace’s breasts. The guard responded by pulling her fingers out of Grace’s ass, splitting them into a V, and jamming them back into bother her ass and pussy. The prisoner swooned.
“Yes, that’s a good little bird,” Gemma said, groping Grace’s tits again before letting go. “Now, on your knees.”
Grace didn’t protest. She spun around and got on her knees, giving her the most perfect view as Gemma shed her pants and exposed her perfectly trimmed little bush and sopping wet pussy to the prisoner. Grace had been here before – numerous times since being incarcerated at Remy Hadley. Prison Guards pulling her out for some tech or computer situation, for which she was known to be skilled, and taking advantage of her sexually. This happened a lot in this prison – both male and female guards all seemed to treat the prisoners as their playthings, almost universally.
Grace put up with it – and in cases like Gemma Arterton here, actually enjoyed it, as opposed to when the male guards would have their way with her – but unlike many of the prisoners, who either just took it, or tried to resist, Grace put these encounters to good use.
“Mmmm, you taste nice today, Gemma,” Grace said, gently lapping at the guard’s wet slit. “Did you get what I asked for?”
“Yeah, yeah, your new iPhone will be here tomorrow,” Gemma said. “But you know what I want in return,” she added, leering down at Grace.
“Oh, Gemma, I’m already yours. You can have me any way you want.”
“Let’s prove that, then, shall we?” Gemma said. She stepped away from the prisoner and reached down to her pants. There she pulled her nightstick and held it by the longest end, sticking the shorter end out towards Grace. “Suck it.”
“Huh?” Grace asked, a little surprised. This was something new.
“Suck it. Like a cock,” Gemma said, a twinkle in her eye. “And don’t tell me you don’t know how. Jace was telling me the other day how you deep throated him pretty well, for a dyke.”
“I told him not to tell anyone,” Grace grumbled as she reluctantly leaned forward and took the end of the baton in her mouth. Grace was NOT a fan of sucking cock, but it had kept Jace of other parts of her body and gotten her a few perks in the showers – like real shampoo, not the generic crap they tried to push off on the other girls. But despite her distaste of the act, Grace had some skills at using her mouth and tongue to pleasure phallic shaped objects, and as Gemma watched, Grace performed her best routine upon the polished wooden shaft. She playfully licked the length of the baton before taking the tip into her mouth. For a moment, she just played with it a little before she slowly started to suck envelope more and more of it. Soon enough, Grace’s lips were practically touching the second handle.
“Jace wasn’t kidding,” Gemma said admiringly. “Are you sure you’re only into girls?”
Grace pulled off the baton. “Positive,” she said.
“Well, good,” Gemma said. “A bird like you shouldn’t be stuffed and basted, know what I mean?”
“Uh, I guess,” Grace replied.
“Oh, shut up and suck the bloody handle,” Gemma demanded, turning the nightstick around. Grace shot her an odd look, but started sucking on the angled end anyway, wondering what this was about. Gemma had fucked Grace a number of times since the computer chick had been housed at Remy Hadley, but usually that just meant Grace ate Gemma out, sucked on her tits a little and they’d finish each other off with their fingers. This, however, was something more.
A small part of Grace was worried, but the vast majority of her was just horny.
“That’s enough,” Gemma said, pulling the nightstick out of Grace’s mouth. “Turn around and bend over the table.”
Suddenly, Grace knew exactly what was happening. And her pussy flooded with juice at the very thought! She eagerly did as she was told, even spreading her legs wide in anticipation.
“Mmmmnnngh,” Gemma groaned. Grace looked over her shoulder, and was surprised to see Gemma had actually stuck the side-handle of the nightstick into her own pussy. Grace was a bit surprised, but Gemma was moving before the prisoner could say anything, sliding up behind the bent-over Asian and lining up the other wetted end of the baton with Grace’s pussy.
“Ooooh!” Grace cooed, both from the pleasure of feeling the nightstick penetrate her, and the naughtiness of the idea of using the nightstick as a makeshift strap-on dildo. Or would that be slide-in dildo? Grace didn’t care. She was too busy getting fucked by Gemma.
“Yeah, that’s it you little slut,” Gemma said, her voice a husky whisper in Grace’s ear. “Spread your legs and get fucked by my hard cock.” As she spoke, Gemma reached around and groped Grace’s small tits, and Grace’s rock-hard nipples reacted quite well to the sensation.
It was quite the trick Gemma was pulling off. Keeping her own pussy clamped around one handle of the nightstick while using the other to take Grace from behind. Just the act of keeping the handle inside her was challenging enough, and the effort was sending all sorts of pleasurable signals through Gemma’s body. But Grace’s pussy wasn’t exactly holding the improvised dildo as well – possibly because Gemma was pounding in and out of it, or perhaps it was the fact Grace was practically flooded with juices. Whatever it was, Gemma knew she couldn’t keep it in there much longer, and if it fell out of Grace, it would fall out of Gemma’s pussy, too. She couldn’t have that.
“Hold on a moment, luv,” Gemma said, pulling the nightstick out of Grace. The prisoner mewed in disappointment, then gasped in elated surprise as Gemma started to slowly slide the baton handle into Grace’s ass.
“Mmmmm, yes!” Grace hissed. “Fuck my ass! Fuck my dirty, dirty ass!”
It took a bit, but thanks to Grace’s mouth and pussy, the stick was well lubricated, and Grace was far from an anal virgin. When the nightstick was finally all the way in, Gemma found she was getting far more resistance on her end – much to the joy of her own pussy.
“Oh, fuck yes!” Grace hollered as Gemma started to really fuck her ass. With both hands on the prisoner’s hips, Gemma felt every thrust vibrate up from the nightstick into her own pussy. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t very long at all before both girls were climaxing.
“Oh fuck! Fuck! FUCKFUCKFUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!” Grace hissed as her body collapsed beneath her. Gemma was only seconds behind, her own climax dropping her onto Grace’s back as her knees gave out while she hissed her pleasure.
“Oh, that was fun,” Grace said a few minutes later as Gemma yanked the nightstick out of her.
“We’ll do that again,” Gemma promised.
“It’s a great way to wake up,” Grace said.
“By the way, they really are having trouble with the WiFi in the visitor’s center,” Gemma mentioned as she pulled her pants back on.
“Just tell them to flip the router off and on, that should reset it,” Grace said, slipping back into her prisoner’s uniform. “You’ll have my iPod tomorrow?”
“Absolutely,” Gemma said.
“Good. Come get me when you’ve got it,” Grace said. “Oh, and bring an extra nightstick so I can fuck you.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Megan Fox sighed.
Why Hayden Panettiere had to read each line of that particular tattoo out loud before kissing it, Megan didn’t know. But then again, at least the ex-reporter’s hands were busy on each side of the brunette’s body, one hand cupping her hard buttocks and the other tracing a path through her snatch. And her lips felt so good on her skin that Megan couldn’t complain about her cellmate.
Plus to be honest, it was the tats that convinced Megan this matchup worked; the first time they had bathed together was also the first time Megan had seen Hayden naked – her compact, lovely body played host to a collection of tattoos which were for the most part smaller than Megan’s, but each one from the writing on one of her fingers to the Italian phrase on her left side was muy lickable. Megan had joked that if she went for the unobtrusive kind she should get something on her clit, and Hayden had parried that she didn’t like them THAT much.
“…never knew…” Hayden continued reading and kissing, sending a nice little ticklish tremor up Megan’s spine. Oh, this little blonde really knew her stuff. Each kiss made Megan a little wetter, and she really couldn’t wait for her to finish.”
“Until a slow reading reporter took her fingers and fucked her senseless,” Megan cut Hayden off, rolling over atop Hayden and kissing her hard. Hayden gasped a bit in surprise, but as her perky tits jiggled, she gave in to Megan’s kiss and the tattoo was forgotten as the darker-haired crook slid a pair of fingers up inside Hayden’s twat.
Hayden swooned under the more-tattooed inmate’s aggressiveness, loving the sensation of a mouth on one of her nipples while two – no, that was three now – fingers mined her depths for pearls of pleasure. Megan was a surprisingly adroit finger smith, hitting areas Hayden had been hard-pressed to reach herself since being imprisoned, and with only occasional visits from Troian, Hayden was forced to rely on others to get her off.
Not that she minded. With a body built for sex, Megan Fox was a perfectly acceptable substitute for Hayden’s real love.
“You ready for it?” Megan asked, breaking into Hayden’s reverie.
“Huh? Oh, hell yeah, I’m ready,” Hayden said. The two girls got up off the bed, and Megan laid down on her back, sticking her butt up in the air a little bit. Hayden rather gleefully knelt down behind Megan and started to slide a pair of fingers into Megan’s dripping wet pussy.
“Mmmmm,” Megan moaned. The reporter had such lovely little fingers, yet they could find all the best places inside Megan. Either in her pussy, or more often, up Megan’s ass.
Which was exactly where Hayden was going, as soon as she finished lubing her hand up with Megan’s pussy juices. Two, three, four more thrusts up into Megan, and Hayden was satisfied she’d be able to work her fingers into the puckered hole she was staring at.
Still, it never hurt to be sure.
Hayden leaned forward and gently started tonguing around Megan’s backdoor. The career criminal groaned in delight – it had been FAR too long since anyone had tossed her salad, even here at Remy Hadley, where you could get most anything done to you if you just asked the right person.
“God, Hayd, that’s it! Fuck my ass with your tongue!”
Hayden’s reply was to press her tongue further into Megan, twirling it about a little as she went. Hayden wasn’t exactly new to analingus, but neither she nor Troian ever really got off on the idea, so the most she’d ever done was use it briefly to lube up her lover, and add a hint of kink to their encounters on rare occasions.
But Megan seemed to enjoy it, and Hayden put her skilled tongue to use, driving the taller, darker haired girl well beyond distraction. Which was exactly what Megan needed.
As Hayden’s tongue did unspeakably sexy things to Megan’s ass, Megan was able to forget, if only for a few minutes, how depressed she was. Over on Megan’s bunk lay a letter – an actual, handwritten letter – that had, while not quite broken Megan’s heart, certainly bruised it more than she would’ve expected.
The letter, written with perfect teacher penmanship, was from Lucy Hale, basically telling Megan that she wouldn’t be hearing from her again. Lucy had been one of the hostages the girls had taken in the bank, and Megan had taken more than a bit of a liking to the short brunette. The fact that Lucy had, rather reluctantly, maintained a correspondence during Megan’s incarceration had allowed Megan’s attraction for the young teacher to go from mostly physical to something more.
But Lucy didn’t seem to be feeling the same.
The letter was essentially a Dear Jane note, Lucy telling Megan that while she would always think fondly of her, and admitted that it was Megan’s sexual attentions, and not the more brutal fucking she’d gotten from Jaime Pressly, that had awaken Lucy’s dormant lesbian desires, Lucy couldn’t wait for Megan.
Megan hadn’t known how much she’d been counting on seeing Lucy again until that letter had arrived. Megan had always been a lone wolf, of sorts, at least when it came to love. She took her pleasure from any woman – or man – that caught her fancy, and had never had a relationship last beyond a month. But Lucy’s letters had kept her going while she’d been in prison, and now, on the eve of the girl’s escape, Lucy was essentially abandoning Megan.
So Megan was doing what she did best in moments like this – fucking through the pain.
Even now, as Megan’s thoughts drifted back to the letter, one of Hayden’s hands slid around the front, and three little fingers slid into Megan’s snatch, fucking her as hard in the front as Hayden’s tongue was in the back.
“Mmmmm, fuck yeah!” Megan groaned at the double penetration. This was what she needed right now. A good, solid fucking by a hot chick that Megan wouldn’t fall for. A palette cleanser that would wipe the memory of Lucy off of Megan’s mind and leave the car thief free to think about – and fuck – anyone else she wanted without feeling depressed about it.
Except it wasn’t quite working.
“Come on, baby, cum for momma,” Hayden said, really working her fingers in and out of Megan’s two holes.
Well, the sex part was working – Megan’s pussy was alive with fire, and she knew from experience that Hayden was going to give her an O that was decidedly on the bigger size. The tongue in her ass was doing things that could only be described as sensational, and Hayden’s tiny fingers were making Megan swoon.
But Megan already knew that when her orgasm came – “So close! So fucking close!” – that her heart would got right back to missing Lucy.
“Come on, Megan,” Hayden said between licks. “Cum for me! Cum for me now!”
“MMmmm FUCK YESSSSSSSS!!!!” Megan hissed loudly as Hayden crammed her tongue up Megan’s ass as far as it would go, finally tripping the last little switch that would send the taller woman over the edge. Orgasm blasted through Megan’s body like a tidal wave, and she literally slipped off the edge of the bed, her hands just barely stopping her from smacking her head on the floor. Hayden somehow managed to keep her fingers on Megan’s throbbing clit, but there was no keeping her tongue in. Not that Megan minded – she was lost to the world.
That was alright with Hayden. As Megan was coming down from her high, Hayden moved to flip the tattooed car thief onto the floor before straddling the taller, stronger girl’s face. Before Megan could even think to protest – not that she would have – Hayden’s pussy was in her face, practically humping her mouth. Megan knew what to do, and she was licking before her own climax had completely subsided.
It didn’t take very long to get Hayden off. Megan worked her tongue well, and gripped the shorter girl’s shapely backside tightly, holding her close so each lick Megan did ran from the bottom of the blonde’s pussy all the way up over her clit, for maximum pleasure. Hayden was more than turned on already, having enjoyed getting Megan off quite a bit. But now she let her head hang back, and the TV reporter let her eyes close, and let herself imagine it was Troian down there between her legs, giving her the kind of sexual bliss only a woman could give another.
Had anyone put a stopwatch on Hayden, they would’ve seen it took Megan exactly one minute, twenty-two seconds to bring the tiny girl to orgasm. Hayden grabbed her own tits fiercely and went rock solid as her climax shattered every nerve in her body. She hissed in pleasure, and for once didn’t call out Troian’s name, though the lanky brunette’s face was in the forefront of Hayden’s mind. If she had, Megan wouldn’t have minded – and it wouldn’t have been the first time, either.
And then, suddenly, just like that it was over, Hayden carefully getting off Megan, who rolled up on her knees and tried hard not to look at the letter still on her bed. Instead, she turned and watched as Hayden slid her bare ass up into her prison-issue uniform.
“Going commando?” Megan asked, a little surprised.
“Today? Abso-fucking-lutely,” Hayden said.
“That’s right!” Megan said, remembering. “It’s visiting hours today, and you got a hot date.”
“Yeah I do,” Hayden said. “Thanks for getting me off now, by the way. The thought of seeing Troian again has me so horny, I’d probably be forcing myself on one of the guards before noon if you hadn’t.”
“No problem,” Megan said. “Consider it thanks for showing me that little trick you do with your pussy the other day.”
“Fun, right?” Hayden smiled at the memory. “The least I could do for showing me some of the tricks of YOUR trade.”
“More practical than your pussy party piece, but not as much fun,” Megan admitted.
“Oh yeah,” Hayden sighed. “Troian taught me that, and you can bet she’s going to do it to me again this afternoon.”
“Well, hopefully in a couple days, you and she can be doing it to each other every night,” Megan said.
“Gotta get out of here first,” Hayden pointed out.
“Don’t worry. We will,” Megan said, finally reaching for her own uniform. Maybe she’d go commando today, too. Just because she wasn’t expecting a sexy visitor didn’t mean she might not get laid by another prisoner. Maybe THAT was what she needed to clean her palette – someone a little less like Lucy. Hayden was great, but she was actually SHORTER than Lucy, which admittedly turned Megan on more. Maybe what Megan needed was a taller lover. Or even a dude. She hadn’t had a dude since a couple of weeks before she got the letter from Lucy. Maybe a good thick cock would get her over it.
As she thought that, one of the male guards led an attractive brunette prisoner past Megan and Hayden’s cell. Megan found herself licking her lips.
Then again, there was something to be said about eating another pussy. Especially when it belonged to her shopmate Olivia Wilde…
* * * * * * * * * *
Remy Hadley liked to give their inmates something of a chance to have some kind of a decent life if they weren’t in solitary; for instance, the institution had one of the better libraries among prisons in the US. And even though Blake Lively wasn’t one of the warden’s favoured few, she had been given a job there checking in books and helping the convicts with their queries and basically just sitting behind the desk and looking pretty for the prisoners. This last bit was why she was glad she alternated days with Emma Roberts, who being one of the warden’s favoured few had also gotten one of the nicer gigs in prison (and had NOT been pleased to hear who the alternate was).
She wasn’t sitting down now, however; she was up on one of the higher shelves glaring down at Gabourey Sidibe and Nicki Minaj. The pair, best friends and cellmates serving 15 to 20 for armed assault, just smiled up at her as if Gabourey hadn’t just run her hand along the blonde’s rump. Again.
“Here are your books,” she managed to say politely, handing one to each lady.
“You know, if you ever get lonely sometime…” Nicki said hopefully.
“No, thanks,” the blonde said for the umpteenth time – this week. “I don’t go that way.”
“Come on, I heard you with Vance – I know you’re colour blind,” Gabourey chuckled.
“You know what I mean,” Blake sighed. “Anyway, you two don’t like white girls.”
“When the lights go out we’re all the same colour, Blake. And this one here didn’t like girls period ‘till she met me,” Nicki laughed as she kissed the short, heavy woman. “You just ain’t met the right one yet.”
“Exceptions to every rule, honeytits,” Gabourey said as the two swaggered off. “Exceptions to every rule.”
“Probably won’t even read them,” Blake muttered to herself as soon as they were out of earshot. “Probably can’t even READ.”
Starting down the ladder, she felt another hand gliding on her buttocks; she instinctively started to tell her to keep her fingers to herself before realising they were male fingers. Of course, some of the cons did have rough digits, but she prided herself on never forgetting hands that had been on her. Anger turned to smiles as Blake looked down on Jase.
“You’re wanted on set, Miss Lively,” the guard said, the smile on his face and the tent in his trousers battling for supremacy.
“It’s time for my break anyway,” she told him.
* * * * * * * * * *
The set was Cell 3849, Block D – known among some of the guards as Alyssa’s Place, because even though the guards had helped themselves to the prisoners since the prison had opened they hadn’t had a place they could call their own until Warden Milano’s stint. She had not only sampled more than a few of the girls and guards herself, but had seen to it that the remote cell was kept unoccupied for just that purpose; it was also the only cell in the entire prison still to be locked and unlocked manually, rather than be controlled with electronics. Alyssa (she insisted on being called by her first name) had been the last person in charge of the prison before she was replaced by Kate Winslet, who had no problems with keeping this cell free.
Vance, Jase and Brad all had keys to this cell, and Brad’s were muffled so the jingling wouldn’t interfere with what they were doing – or in this case, who they were doing. Granted, only one of them (Brad) still had his uniform on, but only because he was the one holding the camera. Vance, meanwhile, was holding something far more interesting… Blake Lively’s breasts, explaining why he and Blake were both sporting huge smiles.
“It’s kind of a shame there aren’t more guys here,” Blake murmured to Vance as she felt Jase’s lips behind her, kissing her long naked back on their journey down. “We could really have more fun – you in my mouth, Jase in my snatch, Brad here up my ass, maybe two of you fitting in one of my holes again…”
“We could stop filming for a bit,” Brad said hopefully. “Or I could try and set it up so-“
“No time,” Jase interrupted, watching Blake’s globes and glad Vance’s hands weren’t all over them.
“You always say that,” Brad grumbled, adjusting the focus and forgetting his blue balls for a moment as those nipples became crystal clear.
“You know,” Blake said casually into the lens as she held Vance’s head against her chest and moaned in approval at his mouth tasting her jugs, “you COULD stand guard over me later on at visiting time…”
“We’re not allowed,” Brad grumbled further. It was amazing how Blake had visitors every single week. EVERY. SINGLE. WEEK. And yet according to Vance and Jase her pussy and asshole were still tighter than Jane the Pain’s wallet when it came time to buy drinks – how did she do that?
“Oh, who’s going to tell?” she pouted, pushing Vance down her body. “Mmmm, yeah, that’s nice guys… right in sync…”
The syncing was Vance’s tongue entering Blake’s box as Jase did the same to her back door; the tall blonde swayed slightly between the two guards on their knees on either side of her, her hands stroking their heads as their hands caressed her long thighs. Blake’s gasps started to get louder, and she was secretly glad Brad was always on camera; it had been his birthday the last time she’d been here, and they’d let him go first – and the poor guy had been so excited he’d come on the spot. In his defence, it wasn’t the first time it had happened around her, but…
Jase took the tube that was next to him as he tongue-fucked the woman’s rear, wishing he had remembered to put the lube on his tongue earlier; it didn’t taste bad at all, but more importantly it meant he could have gotten Blake’s back door ready without stopping his mouth. Truth be told he liked eating her ass so much he could have gotten it all slick WITHOUT the lube, but…
All too soon, once Brad had gotten closeups of their tongue action, it was time for the next event – Vance let Blake’s clit linger between his lips for a second or four before moving back, standing and kissing the blonde’s mole before Jase moved over to the front as Blake turned her face towards him, letting him lick the mole as well while the hand with the lube moved behind her, applying it while she kissed the two guards in turn.
“And try not to let the lens stay on our bodies too long this time, okay?” Jase told Brad as he finished making Blake Lively’s asshole penis-ready. “This isn’t a gay porno – it’s ladies first, always.”
“You let one shot go on too long and they never let you forget it,” Brad said to himself, but he focused on Blake’s body anyway as she glided in front of the two guards, being sure to let the lens take in all the angles while she patted and stroked their chests, giving them each some licks in doing so.
“You poor guys,” Blake whispered, her fingers moving down their bodies and taking their manhoods in hand. “Working so hard, getting paid slave wages… let’s see if I can’t give you a little bonus.”
Her fingers moving lightly over their long hard-ons, she knelt down while slowly undulating her body and “unintentionally” moving her butt towards Brad’s lens. Blake rested on her knees, still gently stroking the guards’ cocks as she came in close, positioned each head toward her lips and opened wide.
Although there was no way they could keep their cocktips from touching inside Blake Lively’s mouth, feeling her tongue rolling along each one as she tasted them cut out any unnerving thoughts. “Mmmm… ummm… mmmmMMMMMMmmmm…” Blake’s lips were taking in as much of their cocks as she could without actually expanding her head, and whenever she let one out to lick its length further she kept a hand busy stroking the other, just enough to excite but not enough to leave her face covered with cream. In any case, most of the time she had them both in her, the heads rubbing on her tongue and her lips leaving no part unkissed, with the fingers giving Jase’s and Vance’s shafts and sacs equal time.
“How long…” Jase moaned.
“Since I was 16,” Blake paused long enough to say. “First time two guys ever came in my mouth – not happening today.” She knew from experience, and the way the cockheads were starting to let out precum, that if she didn’t stop now it would. Not only would it ruin the film, but she really wanted them up her to finish the job. Releasing each guard’s hefty rod, she licked each one from stem to stern for the cameras before turning to face Brad, arching her back upwards.
Vance and Jase aimed their heavy cocks at the lady’s holes. Both were instinctively pointed towards Blake’s asshole, but the blonde looked behind her and shook her head while looking at Vance.
“Sorry, you had your go in my back door this morning – it’s Jase’s turn. You get the slit.”
“No prob – your body’s made of win anyway,” Vance smiled, as he and Jase highfived each other with their free hands – the other ones fondling Blake’s sides – and thrust.
“WHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!” both guards and the prisoner howled, Blake because of both massive cocks pumping into her, the guards because of how great the respective slots they were in felt – as Jase moved his prick deep inside Blake’s snug, oiled asshole, feeling the inner walls squeezing it and making the cum start to drip out almost at once, he mentally ran through the list of things he wouldn’t do for another chance to fuck this girl. It didn’t take him long. His pounding away at Blake was being matched stroke for stroke by Vance, who was torn between being jealous of Jase and being thrilled at how hot and soaking her snatch was; the prick slid in and out between her plump pussy lips, each thrust going deeper and deeper, and the guard hoping that he’d be able to pull out in time – he didn’t want to leave something to remember her by.
Blake ground her hips against the two guards, screaming her head off because they felt so freaking good up her – the cell was so remote that no one was around to hear them, another reason they all liked filming here. This was something she’d missed ever since she’d been stuck in here, and that was why she wanted it as many ways and from as many as she could. And given what day it was… “BRAD!” she yelled to the camera guy. “GET OVER HERE!”
“I WANT THAT MEAT IN MY MOUTH!” she shouted. “I’M NOT A LEAFEATER!”
“But what about the money shot—“ Brad started in disbelief, seeing his colleagues thrusting ever harder and going so far inside he could almost hear their balls slapping against her.
“YOU WANT IT AND I WANT IT!”
She was right… still holding the camera, Brad headed over to Blake; the blonde had his zipper down in record time, and his throbbing erection out in her hand within seconds. With no time to lose, Blake Lively swallowed Brad’s cock, sucking it as if she hadn’t had it in weeks and stroking the guard’s aching sacs. The viewpoint in the lens was shaking somewhat as he took it all in, amazed at how Blake was slurping so much of his rod that her lips were virtually brushing his pubes. She licked and tasted him, working him like she was a Hoover.
Blake couldn’t really give vent to the orgasms rushing through her body as she jacked and thrashed between the guards, but Brad screamed loud enough for all of them as his cock exploded in her mouth, sending the streams of creamy cum down her throat in more time than the last time he’d been invited – but not by much. Swallowing it all, Blake allowed herself to howl in turn as Jase’s cock shot its own payload into her rear, flooding her asshole as the guard physically forced himself to pull out.
Brad, to his credit, managed to get control of himself to catch Vance jerk back out of her snatch and send several showers of lovejuice onto Blake’s soft buns before the blonde sank onto the cell floor, still vibrating and gasping. The three studied the supine prisoner as she lay face down, all three eyeing her perfect body as Brad let the camera pan down her form and back up as she turned herself over, smiling up at them with her legs spread and correctly expecting Brad to get a close-up of what was down there before returning to her face.
“That’s a wrap,” she whispered. And meant it.
* * * * * * * * * *
“So how long you in for?” Taylor Momsen asked as she finished her cigarette.
“Too long,” Olivia Wilde replied, pointedly ignoring the presence of the guard stationed by their cell ostensibly to see there was no funny business – but apparently to just see everything. Even though Taylor had only just transferred to Remy Hadley from the Carly Spencer Institute for Young Offenders when she’d been deemed too much trouble, she seemed a lot more relaxed to the place’s…. um… open plan.
“Why? What’d you do? Or lemme guess – you ‘didn’t’ do it.”
“Murder,” the beautiful faux-brunette replied bitterly, knowing that Scarlett the Harlot was eyeing her and trying to pretend she didn’t mind.
“Lighten up,” Taylor whispered into the older woman’s ear as her fingers brushed through the tresses. “Johansson’s one of the good ones around here. Just lucky it ain’t Cate the Straight.”
Olivia looked down at the floor; with so many windows and bars to let people see everything it was surprising the ceilings and floors weren’t made of shatterproof glass. Still, she had to admit Taylor was right – Scarlett was one of the better guards around here, and one of the few who occasionally let women finish off their loving in private instead of hanging around and watching them come. She’d even had the decency to look disgusted the time she’d caught Brad standing outside Olivia’s cell, his cock poking through the space while she gave it the treatment with her lips. “Oh, c’mon,” he’d said on seeing Scarlett’s face, “she likes it!”
It was true – Olivia did like penises somewhat more than the other option, but Remy Hadley had a lot more of the latter than the former. It hadn’t helped her initially that a lot of the owners of the latter liked her sky-blue eyes and lean body; her former cellmate Kirsten Prout had been the first to ask her, a little hesistantly, if she wanted some company to get her through the night.
To Olivia’s surprise, she found she did.
It was amazing how fondly she remembered Kirsten’s body pumping away under hers – and how much she’d missed her when she’d been transferred to a lighter security facility to finish her sentence. Kirsten was a good girl – unlike Taylor here, who’d been transferred HERE after she’d caused no end of trouble at her old place, although apparently things hadn’t gone too far until she’d come on to her own cellmate. It seemed that Fearne Cotton, though very receptive, had family in high places who didn’t like the idea of their Fearnie getting fucked by women.
Until Taylor could reunite with her Fearne on the outside, she could make friends with Olivia here; she kept gently stroking the woman’s head, seeing a slow smile come to her face.
“How long are you here for?” Olivia asked the young blonde, slowly starting to move her fingers down the exposed skin of her body, of which there was rather a lot as she was only wearing panties. Which was still more than Olivia had on.
“For as long as you want me here,” Taylor replied huskily.
“That’s not what I—“
“Shhhh,” the blonde told her, and kissed Olivia gently. The faux-brunette’s tongue paused just a second before slipping her tongue into Taylor’s mouth.
“Sorry I can’t join in,” Scarlett said casually. “I’ll see you both later on – try and wrap it up before Blanchett and Morgan come by. You know how Cate is with skin showing.”
All three women quickly shoved the idea of Piers Morgan leering at them back into the darkest places of their minds as Miss Johansson moved on to check the next few cells. Morgan was bad enough, but Cate…
“One time Fearne had to do the tannoy at my old place,” Taylor continued while Olivia kissed her neck and cheeks. “The old British stiff upper lip – I was licking her ass and eating her out all the while she was talking and nobody knew. Except the people who let me in, of course… I think they wanted to get me out of there. Or maybe they wanted to see her butt, I don’t know… wouldn’t mind trying it with you.”
Taylor rested her hands on Olivia’s chest, with the older woman’s nipples between the index and middle fingers of each hand. “Have to admit you’ve got bigger tits than her, though,” she added as she circled each one, pressing the flesh.
“First time someone ever said that to me,” Olivia laughed as the blonde took one of her nipples between her teeth, not enough to bite but just enough to hold it as she used the tip of her tongue to tease it; she used one hand to continue fondling the remaining breast, while the other slipped down Olivia’s body and between her legs. Taylor glanced down and took in the blonde hairs Olivia had below, and smiled into her chest.
“Hey, we’re two of a kind!”
“Too much trouble to dye there,” Olivia admitted, returning the smile on feeling Taylor’s digits stroking her silky blonde carpet.
“Even more for me,” the other blonde agreed, shedding her underwear and throwing it onto the pile of their clothes in the corner while letting Olivia see her own thatch. The latter’s fingers automatically headed towards it, but Taylor gently tapped them away before kneeling forward, resting her head on Olivia’s lap. Her eyes gave the woman’s box a look, and Olivia readied herself for the girl’s tongue tasting her pussy, as usually happened around this time.
Taylor’s tongue came out – and touched the inside of Olivia’s right thigh. “These legs need some lovin’, looks like,” she said more to herself than Olivia, before kissing the thigh while caressing the outside of it. Her lips moved slowly all along it, and her body curled up close along the leg, practically rubbing herself on Olivia’s stem. Taylor began to lick the length, her fingers floating down the back and touching the inside behind the knee while purring like a cat.
Olivia had her eyes on Taylor’s legs – if no one gave those pins the treatment, something was very wrong in this place. And she was enjoying the girl’s hot, soft mouth sliding down her right leg and onto her foot, and feeling Taylor cradling the foot in her hands before kissing it from one end to the other and slowly sucking each toe… Olivia’s cunt was almost crying for some attention from this girl, but in the absence of that her own fingers would have to do.
As Olivia reclined on her bunk and moved her hand down to her crotch, her attention was caught by two figures watching them through the bars. Another audience, huh? Oh well.
At least it was one she could live with. Scarlett had returned, but… hey, there was that guy Brad with her as well. Maybe he was on duty in place of Piers Morgan? They could all use a lucky break.
Scarlett, eyeing Olivia unshakingly, unzipped her shirt and opened it up. Olivia forgot all about Taylor’s mouth at that moment, faced as she was with Scarlett Johansson’s beautiful heavy breasts, the only guard-attached ones that the other guards ever got to play with. Scarlett hefted each round, bouncy milksack in turn, her lips curving up in approval as Olivia sighed, before she sqooshed them against each other and pressed them against her chest for her own pleasure as much as Olivia’s.
As Taylor transferred her lips to the other leg, Scarlett pointed away from her body and down. Olivia followed her finger, and her eyes REALLY lit up at what she was – a penis. An actual large, heavy and (understandably, since its owner was in view of two naked women and a third topless one) rock-hard penis, poking right through the bars and pointing right at her. Brad grinned at her as he waved it. Oh, how Olivia wished Taylor wasn’t there right now… she didn’t mind tits but she loved cock. And there was one right in front of her, and nothing she could do about it.
Her groans were mixed with frustration as Scarlett and Brad put their toys away like the teases they were, kissed each other in violation of the laws that forbade relationships between guards, and strolled off. If nothing else, at least Olivia had something to think about as Taylor slid back up her body, resting her hands on her shoulders and her crotch on her mouth.
“You don’t have any huge tattoos like Fearnie does, either,” Taylor smiled as she looked down on the woman. “Oh, Olivia…”
That non-sequitur came because of Olivia’s tongue probing into the girl. This hadn’t been the first cunt she’d eaten around here; she’d welcomed quite a few girls to Remy Hadley, and she would never forget how Janel Parrish had looked on telling her that Olivia Wilde had been the first woman to fuck her – Olivia had actually tried not to break down at that, both for Janel’s good and her own. Taking boys’ virginity was one thing, but girls?
And to have to fuck this girl when there’d been some guy there who knew what he had… the sad thing was, even though both he and Scarlett had been teasing her, she still wouldn’t have minded banging either of them. Scarlett because she both had to (to please the guards) and wanted to; Brad because she wanted to, end of. Still, Olivia thought as she touched Taylor’s back while lapping the girl’s tender crotch, whatever worked. If it helped her get through this place, it would help. And practice helped for whenever she got called by some of the other prisoners. Or guards.
Knowing that you had to at least seem like you were enjoying it, she started to fondle Taylor’s body further and to think about Scarlett. And Kirsten. And some other girls who she at least didn’t mind fucking or being fucked by. Unlike Jaime Pressly.
* * * * * * * * * *
At around 10:40 in the morning, Emma Roberts was having a happy time for four reasons.
One, she wasn’t working this morning. Two, she was among several cons sitting courtside watching the Pressly Pirates (Jaime Pressly, Kristen Stewart, Phoebe Tonkin, Jennette McCurdy and Leighton Meester) take on the Fiery Foxes (Megan Fox, Jennifer Lawrence, Pixie Lott, Brittany Robertson and Nina Agdal) in the morning’s basketball match. Three, her cellmate Nina had just sunk her third basket, increasing the team’s lead and making her and about half the others cheer even louder.
“Does she taste as good as she looks?” Hannah Simone asked.
And four, Emma was something of a hero to many of the inmates of Remy Hadley when word spread that she was the only girl ever to bed Blake Lively (approached though she had been by many of them, the male guards had made it clear they’d be *very* sorry if it went any further). There were a lot of things that weren’t fun to do after repeating them for a while, but retelling how she got to fuck the leggy straight blonde wasn’t one of them.
“Better,” she replied, watching the action on the court and enjoying seeing twenty breasts bobbing at once, particularly at this point in time Pixie’s as she leapt up and hit away the ball which Jennette had just fired towards the Foxes’ net. She was a forceful little thing, and she let out a little cackle as the ball flew towards the thirty or so ladies watching.
And scored a direct hit on Felicity Jones’s nose; Jennifer couldn’t resist a little smirk as the English brunette ran off, holding her streaming proboscis and wailing. Teach her to get the last raisin bagel at breakfast…
She joined the chorus; as a smiling Claire Holt threw the ball back into play, the opposing team’s captain had run behind Jennifer and given her butt a pinch. Like all the other convicts, she avoided her when she could, but out here… too bad she could never say no to the hoops.
Leighton and Brittany both went for it, but a well-placed elbow from the con everyone called Gossip Girl because she never, ever shut up about anything sent Brittany landing on the concrete, and now Leighton was flying down the court as Pixie and Nina tried to get her; she shot and she scored.
“WHOOOO!!!! “ Jaime crowed. “Now THAT’S what I’m talking ‘bout!”
“TIME OUT! Just gotta keep it together ten more minutes, guys,” Megan told her teammates after they’d huddled. “We’re still four points clear…”
“Yeah, and at least the referee isn’t in her pants this time,” Nina muttered.
“For fuck’s sake,” Brittany said as the players faced off. Kristen Stewart may have had a nicer body than the pictures of her on trial for murder suggested, but her endless needling of Jennifer was getting to them. Keeping her from the ball was one thing, but throughout the game Kristen had delivered a never-ending stream of cracks to try and throw Jennifer off, from discussing her “thunder thighs” to saying English stereotypes about redheads being subnormal were correct.
“Look in a mirror sometime, Miss Misery!” Pixie shouted back as she got the ball.
“It’s okay,” Jennifer said under her breath as Jaime waded in, grabbing Pixie’s chest and giving it a rub. It didn’t shake the blonde. Much.
“We win this game we all get to fuck Fatass, right?” Kristen said to Jaime.
“Come on, ease up,” Phoebe suggested as Pixie rapidly passed it to a slowly seething Miss Lawrence.
“No, I mean look at it – wobbling all over the place; she probably robbed her bank for lipo…”
Jennifer cannoned past Jennette to sink the ball. Six points up, eight minutes to go.
“Well played, Cutie McCute,” Miss McCurdy – opposing player though she was, she knew a deserving play when she saw one – said with a wink.
“Don’t tell her what she wants to hear – 800 grand isn’t enough for all that jelly on her legs,” Kristen sneered as she fought for the ball.
Jennifer grabbed it again. “At least I didn’t kill seven cheerleaders.”
“Ah, they had it coming. What did you want to do with the money, anyway, stock up on Clairol and Cheez Whiz?”
The beautiful redhead threw the ball aside, all eyes on Kristen – she didn’t mind being called fat, but… “Tell me I stole that money. One. More. Time.”
“You stole it,” Kristen smirked. “And I hear you aren’t that good in bed either… I know those guards like you, but—“
“She ain’t worth it!” Pixie yelled, grabbing Jennifer’s right fist before it could hit.
“Cellulite butts stick together, huh?”
It was at that moment that Kristen’s face discovered Pixie’s left fist worked just as well as her right; “I have got a GORGEOUS bum!” the English blonde shouted as her bloodied hand finished the journey from punching Miss Stewart.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Hannah told Emma in the crowd, who nodded.
“And I’m gonna love kicking it, dick-breath!” Kristen spat.
“Just jealous ‘cause no one wants to fuck someone who looks like a vampire…” Brittany sniggered, and took the full force of the basketball Phoebe threw right on her chest.
“NO ONE CALLS MY GIRL A VAMPIRE!” the Australian yelled as Brittany hit the concrete again, getting more dust on her ass; Phoebe joined her down there a second later as an enraged Nina knocked her flat, and before long both teams were scrapping as the ball was bounced around among the fighting, sending players tumbling down to be kicked as the onlookers continued to cheer for their teams, Elizabeth Gillies (grand theft auto) screaming for Jaime to rip Nina’s head off, Milla Jovovich (manslaughter) actually breaking into a victory dance on seeing Pixie send Leighton flying.
Jennifer, meanwhile, had drawn the short straw – she was grappling with Jaime Pressly in the midst of it all; part of her wanted to yank Jaime’s hands off and run away, but the other part couldn’t let her teammates down. Although the fact that Jaime was raining blows on her while somehow managing to feel her up at the same time wasn’t helping; Jennifer fought back, but Jaime had years of experience on her side, and was wrenching her down to the concrete despite the girl’s struggles and about to put a knee on her back to take it further, the hell with whoever was watching…
“ALL RIGHT, ENOUGH!”
“Move it, Tats. I’m busy,” Jaime sneered at Megan, who with the referee had finally managed to separate most of the bruised, scratched and cursing combatants. The brunette did not look inclined to move it – not only would they likely all lose privileges when Warden Winslet found out, but the game was going to be forfeited because of Rod, as everyone called Kristen Stewart behind her back (and when they were particularly pissed off to her face).
“It’s over, Jaime; let her go.”
“Why should I? You wanna play with this sweet li’l thing too? Anyway, I got a score to settle with her from last time…”
“We beat you fair and square!” Jennifer grunted into the ground.
“Sure you did,” Jaime cackled, patting the girl’s ass. The cackle turned into a yell as Jennifer kicked upwards, getting her in the small of her back.
“You are SO paying for that—“
“NOT HERE, AND NOT NOW!” Megan shouted. “You got something to get out of your system, you deal with me. Not my girls – ME.”
Jaime’s eyes went colder than normal as she glared at Megan, before letting Jennifer go and rising. “This ain’t over,” she said quietly before raising her voice. “All you bitches off the court; let’s leave the losers…”
“Or vice versa,” Emma muttered.
“Thanks,” Jennifer said to Megan as the other team and their supporters made tracks, brushing herself off.
“Not a problem,” the captain told her.
“You and her are in the machine shop, right? I think I’ve seen her in there sometimes.”
“Got it in one,” Megan said as they joined the others. “Better stay out of there today – it’s gonna be rough, knowing her.”
“How’d you guys put up with her?” Jennifer asked, eyeing Emma giving them the thumbs up and returning the gesture.
“Tell you about it at lunch.”
“Good thing it’s not at dinner… I’ve got to get up cleaned up. Got an appointment .”
“With the doctor?” asked Megan.
“With the guards, just before the shift changes.”
Megan nodded; she’d been filmed with them as well.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was high noon, and time to eat; Roselyn Sanchez was talking airily with Hayden Panettiere over their… whatever that stuff was… as they counted down the minutes to visiting time.
Emma Roberts and Blake Lively alternated between respectively eagerly and daintingly eating their food and watching for a free space – neither of them wanted to spend this much time near the other, Blake because Emma was just waiting to talk about how she’d fucked her, Emma because Blake might just decorate her face with the ketchup or something.
Olivia Wilde was munching with Leighton Meester and Taylor Momsen, trying not to notice Miss Meester’s hand fondling her thigh under the table and whispering sweet nothings.
And Jennifer Lawrence had just pissed off the Misses Roberts and Lively by taking the only available free seat when Megan Fox had seen her approaching with her tray.
“Hey, teammate!” Megan called, waving her over.
“Ooh, she’s nice,” Shay Mitchell smiled as Jennifer approached.
“And UNLIKE you, she’s single,” Grace Park laughed. “At least I haven’t seen her with anyone.”
“I told you, me and Emma have an understanding…”
“Always the quiet ones, ain’t it? Good game this morning, Jenny,” Megan said.
“Be better if we’d won,” the girl replied as she sat down.
“I hear you were filming with Jase and Vance and… whatshisname,” Shay said in between bites. “The poor guy still thinks he can show me what I’m ‘missing’.”
“Can’t have been in the ass,” Grace added. “You weren’t walking funny.”
“Oh, they wanted it. And *I* wanted it,” Jennifer confirmed. “But they had to clock out.”
“There’s always tomorrow,” Megan assured her. “Wait a minute, where the fuck are my damn manners? Jennifer, this is—“
“I know who you guys are,” the redhead interrupted. “We all know about the San Francisco Eight. Anyway, Jennifer Lawrence,” she continued, shaking Grace’s and Shay’s hands. “Nice to meet your friends at last.”
“Yeah, you’d think we’d have met up before now in a place like this,” Miss Park replied.
“Well, it IS a pretty big prison. Do YOU know everyone?” Megan pointed out.
“But what brought you here?” Shay asked.
Jennifer’s chirpy demeanour vanished. “I was set up,” she sighed. “I know, you’re thinking they all say that…”
“Except Kristen ‘I killed them, and I’d do again, and I hope they burn in hell!’ Stewart,” Grace said ruefully. She liked cheerleaders; if it had been golfers it would have been one thing, but killing cheerleaders? Freak.
“I used to work in real estate, and someone transferred a whole load of money from R.M. Housing into my account – that’s where I worked. They put stuff from some other banks in there as well, even after I reported it to my bank.”
“And they thought you did it? How are you with computers?” Megan asked.
“Beyond the basics, I suck,” Jennifer replied. “But everyone thought I knew enough to siphon the cash off… I think someone at R.M.—“
“Short for Rhona Mitra?” Shay suggested.
“Who? No, R’s your girl Roselyn Sanchez and M is Monica Bellucci.” The smile returned to her face and her eyes became dreamy.
“Hot for boss, are you?” Grace asked, ignoring the spluttering from the next table as Olivia Wilde’s food went down the wrong way.
“Roselyn wasn’t, at least I don’t think she was. Anyway, whoever it was got access to my computer and covered up so well I couldn’t prove it wasn’t me – so now I’m stuck in this holiday camp from hell for seven years.”
“That happens a lot around Roselyn, doesn’t it?” Megan mused. “We got involved with her and hung out to dry as well…”
“You think she did it?” Jennifer asked.
“No,” Shay admitted. “But we don’t think you did either.”
“If you were so good you could steal all that money online, why would you go and put it in your OWN account?” Grace queried. “You’d want to hide it somewhere.”
“Or set up some kind of account under another name,” Megan added.
“Too bad whoever did this dumped all that on me,” the redhead muttered. “But who’s this Rhona Mitra you keep talking about?”
“She’s the reason we’re all here tonight,” Shay said.
“It’s the afternoon,” Jennifer pointed out.
“We all had a meeting the first night we were here,” Megan explained. “Roselyn ‘toasted’ her that way; ‘Here’s to Rhona, to the reason we’re all here tonight,’ and it stuck.”
“R.M… Rhona Mitra… this could be the start of a beautiful relationship,” Grace smiled, shaking Jennifer’s hand while her other hand under the table rested on the girl’s leg.
“Could be,” Jennifer said, forgetting her trouble for a moment and smiling as Grace’s fingers stroked her thigh.
* * * * * * * * *
Brad was half-right; the guards at Remy Hadley WERE allowed to be in the same room as the prisoners when their visitors were out in the open. In private, however, was a different matter.
Unlike the cells, the visiting rooms let those cons who wanted privacy have some privacy, although even then they were still being watched thanks to the most obvious camera in the prison and the guard watching it on the other side. Since most of the prisoners in there just wanted some time to themselves, most of the time they didn’t get anything more innocent than quiet conversation.
The prisoners in three of those rooms were Roselyn Sanchez, Blake Lively and Hayden Panettiere, so quiet conversation was not on the cards…
Cate Blanchett kept her eyes on the screen covering Blake’s room, wondering if a week would ever go by when this slut wouldn’t have a visitor… maybe when she was 74, but with her luck probably not. At least the screen was occupied at the moment by a young man who had Blake on the floor, his naked self pumping away on top of her while they were both almost certainly saying lustful things to each other (Remy Hadley allowed for vision and sound while watching, but only the most high-risk prisoners had their PRIVATE visits listened in to; and even the trial had determined that Blake Lively, vaginally and anally social though she was, had never physically hurt anyone directly). Rumour had it that Blake had not only invited those misguided people who’d fallen in “love” with her to visit, but actually had a schedule for them to come.
“Whore,” Cate the Straight muttered as she visualised what was on the other side of those not exactly smooth but nicely filled buttocks which Blake’s hands were all over… it would probably be inside Blake’s mouth before long and she’d have to sit there and watch it. Jealous? Damn right she was jealous. And sickened; women who got everything they wanted because of their looks had never sat well with Cate.
The couple rolled over, and Cate’s teeth ground together as Blake was on top now, her shampoo-commercial hair waving back and forth (and how the FUCK did she get it to stay that good behind bars? Was she that friendly with the guards?… Actually, yes) while she punched the air as she rode the boy’s baloney pony. And he WAS a boy – he looked like he was about 16 or something. The guard shook her head as she saw his face beaming underneath the thrusting of the prisoner, her body draining him of his lovejuice as she rubbed herself, fondling her breasts for his pleasure. And her own, Cate was betting.
She’d watched plenty of things like this in her last gig, but that had been a men’s prison. And if she had been watching two men, which was not uncommon at her last place, Cate Blanchett would not have complained. At all. But being stuck here in this… this cesspool of women who all seemed to have the hots for each other… and it was her job to look at them, thanks to all those windows and things she could see through. Okay, it helped if they were doing something illegal, but it was something illegal that got them here in the first place.
That was one reason she had earned her nickname; another was in the wake of the only prisoner who had ever come on to her. Officially she’d taken a bad fall, but everyone in the prison population knew Cate Blanchett was the real reason Summer Glau would never walk properly again; it was a miracle that she could even walk (or breathe) after what Cate had done to her. Normally she tried to keep the convicts from killing one another, but if someone went after Blake Lively… well, those things happened from time to time.
The thought of a bunch of women giving Blake what she deserved finally had Cate smiling as much as that boy she was with.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ironically, Cate and Blake were on the same page in terms of women fucking women – but at least Blake contented herself with dirty looks and in the case of that little girl who liked breaking into things naked the odd slap across the face; beating people to within an inch of their lives were not her style. Except with consenting males, obviously.
This kid was clearly not the kind who was into pain; back on top of her now he was pumping against her as if he was trying to sink inside her and stay there forever, all the while going on about how much he loved her. Clutching him close to her body, Blake let the stuff she’d heard a million times over and over go through her, telling him that she wanted him as well. Just as she’d told all the other men she’d invited out of all the lovestruck, deluded males who’d written to her in the wake of the media coverage (it wasn’t every day a gang made up entirely of hot women was on trial, even in America).
“Pete…” Blake moaned as she rolled over again (and as Cate glowered at getting ANOTHER shot of her bare ass).
“Was I as good as the last time?”
“Oh baby, you could never let me down…” the boy sighed, mentally highfiving himself at the idea that this goddess needed him. “Did your friend get out?”
“Right on time…” the blonde panted.
“I got that thing for her… any friend of yours…”
Blake Lively had been born an expert in feigning ecstasy, but the smile that broke out on her face was the real deal.
* * * * * * * * * *
Troian wished she could make it up here every week. She wished it could be every DAY, the better to get her out of the city and reduce her exposure to Ashley Benson’s face being plastered over every single bus in San Francisco.
She had already done something about exposure to Ashley Benson in general on her very first day back at Channel 7 – by resigning, and in one of the few pieces of good luck she’d had since this whole thing started managing to move over to Channel 5. Her salary was a bit less than what she’d been getting at 7, but no one there was as much of a prima donna as Ashley – and even though one of the upshots of the trial was that she and Hayden were now public knowledge, few of them gave her any grief over her sticking by her girl’s side.
Ushered into the room as she had been every time she trekked up to Remy Hadley, and glad that there hadn’t been a repeat of the only time she and Hayden’s parents had arrived simultaneously, the long journey from the city was made worth it by her girl’s face lighting up, instantly making Troian forget the buses promoting “Channel 7 Evening News With Ashley Benson” (the slime actually had her name in the damn title now?!). The second the door shut behind them, Hayden leaped up and kissed Troian, her hands clutching her lover’s tresses.
“It’s only been two weeks!” Troian laughed.
“It’s always too long,” Hayden replied, kissing her again. She had been on the verge of insanity when she heard that Troian had been hospitalized by Ashley – something that, along with anything else that might have made the little tramp look bad, hadn’t come out at the trial – and the way Troian’s face had fallen when Hayden had admitted she’d liked how Jaime had fucked her hurt, if anything, even more. Every night she was thankful that her lover hadn’t abandoned her after that; the first time they’d met up it had been a little… mechanical, as if neither of them had had their hearts in it.
The next time, it was more organic – Troian had realised that Jaime had come on to her, not vice versa; and Hayden had realised that as good as Jaime had been, she still wasn’t Troian. The time after that had been the first time Troian had brought her toy, which she had waiting for her on the desk as the two rapidly undressed.
“Enjoying this, peeps?” the ex-reporter called in the general direction of the cameras.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” Troian asked, throwing her clothes onto the ground and reaching for the device.
“Oh, you get used to it,” Hayden replied. “Plus I like rubbing it in their faces – just showing some of them what they’ll never have…” She winked as she finished disrobing, and opened her arms to her brunette girlfriend.
(Vance nodded dolefully; not for the first time, he was deeply jealous of the female guards.)
With the business end of the strap-on embedded inside her flooded cunt, Troian sank into Hayden’s embrace, cradling the blonde as she tasted her nipples and let out a contented sigh on feeling the brunette’s hands on her body. No one in the prison population, guard or convict alike, could touch her like Troian, although some of her “pals” in the gang – Hayden had long since given up trying to persuade most of them that she wasn’t a member – had come close. The blonde ran a finger along the length of the strap-on, pushing it inside Troian as the brunette’s hands cupped her cheeks; both women moaned with delight as each lover’s finger explored the other’s differing orifice.
Hayden wished that it was Troian’s tongue instead of a finger going inside her asshole, but they had things to do. Pulling her finger out of the brunette’s snatch, she licked it off and then sucked on it a little, just to get all the flavour off it; Troian undid the strapon with one hand – the other one was still fondling the ex-reporter’s bubble butt – and took it out, turned it around, and inserted it back in so that the freshly-flavoured end was sticking out. Like a penis, only bigger and guaranteed never to go all floppy.
Smiling, Troian put her hands on Hayden’s shoulders, stroking them as the blonde sank to her knees. Vance gritted his teeth in jealousy as Hayden, fondling Troian’s ass all the while, started to suck her “cock” – he, Jase and Brad all had an unwritten agreement that they only fucked the girls who didn’t have a problem with man-meat; oh, they could have had so much fun with her in Alyssa’s Place. If only he hadn’t seen her frolicking with Kim Cattrall and eyeing Gemma Arterton the way she had never eyed any of them. And now there she was, eyeing him from time to time as if she KNEW it was killing him.
Even though Troian couldn’t get all the benefits of this particular blowjob, Hayden’s fingers exploring her tight cheeks and soft little rear entrance more than made up for it – and when her girlfriend got the strap-on far inside her mouth that the tip of her tongue could actually brush along where the device entered her cunt, that was a miracle.
“Want this, baby?” she breathed.
Hayden answered by pulling back, her enthusiastic swallowing having cleaned it off almost at once. She stood up and moved back to lie on the table, perky rack almost aimed at the guards and her open legs aimed at Troian, and made the “come on” sign with her hands.
Vance was glad that he finally got a clear look at Troian Bellisario’s buns as she went for the supine blonde, mounting her and kissing her; the kisses were broken by the loud howl of delight from Hayden as that thing her girlfriend had on sank into her box. She clutched the brunette as her lover began to pump on top of her, thrusting in and out and back and forth, grinding on her as if they’d never see each other again.
The two women passionately rolled off the table and onto the carpeted floor (Remy Hadley was very considerate in some respects), Hayden still underneath and Troian still on top, watching as the blonde pixie thrashed away under her. She screamed her girlfriend’s name to the ceiling as the device triggered from Troian’s grinding, pumping the artificial juice into her. They’d only had time to do it missionary style, but that’s all they needed.
Hayden grabbed Troian’s hands as the brunette started to slow down, shaking. She pulled her down to lie on top of her again, and the two went onto their sides, embracing. Neither of them wanted visiting time to be over, but time was never on their side.
“Stay with me,” Hayden whispered.
“You know I can’t,” Troian replied, kissing her. “Not yet. It won’t be long though.”
“This…” the blonde said, touching her girlfriend’s device. “First night out this comes right back up you.”
“You mean right back at you.”
“You know what I mean,” Hayden laughed, giving Troian another kiss. “You with me?”
“To hell and back,” the brunette answered, before the two kissed for the last time. “All the way to hell and back.”
* * * * * * * * * *
In the next room, Roselyn Sanchez burrowed her tongue inside Alicia Keys’ mouth, thanking all the deities for having someone like her in her life.
Apart from Zoe and some of the guards, the only other woman she’d had sex with in Remy Hadley was Rachel. Roselyn had taken care of con Rachel Bilson, keeping her away from one of the rougher girls – and turning down Rachel when the grateful girl had offered to be hers for the duration (“I’ve already got someone,” she’d told her); she’d even kept an eye out when Rachel and Alex, one of the newer guards, had developed a little relationship.
But as often as Rachel had offered her body to Roselyn, and as sometimes as she had taken up the offer, she prided herself on how she had never once tasted the girl’s snatch – Roselyn had seen the look in Alex’s eyes when he passed Rachel at work in the prison laundry, and she didn’t want to take her from him. (Rachel had gone down on HER, of course, but it wasn’t like both she and Alex had the same things down there.)
Alicia knew about Rachel and Roselyn, but she also knew that Roselyn’s hands were exploring her with a passion that showed she hadn’t gotten what she really wanted from anyone in here. Opening her shirt, Alicia thrust Roselyn’s head onto the exposed breasts and felt the prisoner’s mouth clamping onto one of them, the tongue sliding around the nipple before Roselyn began to suck and kiss it, the hand that wasn’t fondling the other greedily thrusting into Alicia’s pants. She spread her fingers into her babymama’s plush, soaking pussy, the tips slipping between Alicia’s cuntlips as her mouth enjoyed the milksacks.
“Hey, save some for Joshua…!” Alicia laughed, pretending she was concerned.
“Ah, there’s plenty here,” Roselyn said in between kisses as she used the other hand to push Alicia’s breasts a little closer together, licking them both. Alicia’s concern was going from her milk to between her thighs, anyway, as Roselyn’s fingers ran through her tunnel of love; she’d used her hands a lot these past six months, but nothing beat the externals…
Ironically, though Roselyn and Alicia were doing the least of the three couples they were making the most noise; Kim Cattrall, the guard who’d accompanied Alicia once she arrived, was no stranger to overhearing couples in the throes of passion – but she had rarely been lefting holding the baby as much as this case. Literally.
Joshua, though a good little boy, couldn’t keep from playing with her badge as she sat with him on his lap, her eyes focused more on the door from behind which the “Oh yes, yes, YES!!!” “You’re making me so wet, Popi!” and so on came. (Kim was wishing they’d hurry up – she didn’t mind having babes on her lap, but they had to be naked and 17 at the very least. Being toilet-trained was an optional extra IF they were hot enough.) Her concentration, despite the badge-playing, was only broken when she felt a tiny hand grab her left breast and tweak it. Starting early, apparently.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” she said wryly, removing Joshua’s hand. Once it was away from her body she instinctively reached to her left pants pocket – before she remembered. No smoking in the visitors’ section.
Yet again, she wished Alicia Keys had left the tot with relatives like she usually did – why did she have to bring Joshua along today? At least he wasn’t leaving her any body-waste souvenirs…
Kim’s ears pricked up. There was nothing coming out of that room now; that could only mean one thing. An instant later, a glowing and grinning Alicia, her shirt not quite buttoned, stepped out.
“Thanks for watching Joshua for me,” she smiled as she lifted the boy away from Kim. “I didn’t want him in there while I was… you know.”
“Not a problem!” Kim lied, relieved to have Joshua back in his mother’s arms thanks to the guard having no maternal instincts whatsoever.
Alicia rejoined Roselyn, the latter’s eyes focused right on her son; this was the first time she had seen him since she’d been here. Alicia had sent her pictures galore, but until now having him closeup had been a no-no – not because of Alicia, but because of Roselyn.
As she scooped her beloved son into her arms, she was glad she had waited.
“He must’ve known today’s a special day,” Alicia told her. “Just before we left he said his first word.”
Roselyn gaped, and her eyes lit up. “Ahhh! He DID? What was it?”
Alicia looked a little embarrassed. “It was… um…”
“Oh come on, it can’t have been that bad.”
“It was… ‘boobs.’”
Roselyn laughed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my little man,” she said merrily, dandling Joshua.
Mother and son coo-cooed and gurgled, as Roselyn cradled him to her chest and gazed at Alicia tenderly before looking back down at the child; she had not wanted to see him until now because of her promise. She’d promised herself – and made Alicia promise – that Joshua would only get to see her in prison once.
Because the next time after that, she’d be free.
* * * * * * * * * *
Such was the progressive nature of Remy Hadley that it even had a pair of treadmills, which Blake Lively and Jennifer Lawrence were currently on. Kristen Stewart, for her part, was busy with the weights – she could heft a lot for someone so slim.
Also punching above her weight, as it were, was Sarah Shahi on the bench next to her. The little dark-haired beauty and habitual thief, drug dealer and killer had arrived in Remy Hadley last week, and had quickly ingratiated herself with most of the ladies in her block. Not least Kristen.
“Too bad about the game,” Sarah told her gym-mate as she shoved the bar up, seeing the guard eyeing how her arms were accentuating her breasts when he wasn’t studying Blake and Jennifer running in place, asses twitching in their shorts.
“You saw it?” Kristen asked.
“Nah, I had other things to do. Had to get used to this place.”
“How come you got transferred? Too hot to handle?”
“Me? I’m a pussycat,” Sarah replied, watching the blonde and the redhead, boobs bouncing in perfect harmony.
“Fatass there is palling around with Leggy’s friends,” Kristen said bitterly. “I saw them chatting at lunch.”
“The San Fran Eight? Is that a fact,” said the dusky woman, watching Blake with renewed interest.
* * * * * * * * *
For some reason, Remy Hadley’s tool shop always sounded like someone was drilling something. The high, piercing whine of a drill was never absent for very long. The shop was perhaps the busiest place in the prison that didn’t involve food or the occasional bout of fresh air. In fact, the place ran hot, no doubt from the machinery, and most of the prisoners worked in their tank tops and pants – though occasionally one or two would opt for less than that.
This all suited Greg Sarge just fine. A harried man in his early 30s, Greg was the officer in charge of the machine shop, and there was nothing he liked more than seeing the prisoners under his care wearing less and less clothing. Married, with three kids between the ages of 7 and 1, Greg was the classic example of a man who missed his golden years. In college, Greg had been able to land girls with impunity, and had actually engaged in no less than three separate three-ways before he graduated, all with him as the only male, and one with the woman who would be his wife – though he hadn’t been dating her at the time.
Now, Greg’s wife essentially ignored his sexual needs. It had literally been 21 months and nine days since Greg had last felt pussy wrapped around his manhood, and that had resulted in the birth of his third daughter – which wasn’t good, since Greg’s wife had always insisted she only wanted one child. He’d offered to get a vasectomy, but his wife didn’t want to sleep with “half a man,” as she put it. So instead, Greg was left with no company but his hand and his wife was apparently satisfied with just going to sleep.
But Greg loved his wife. Dearly. She was his soul mate, and he would never cheat on her. And so, when he landed a job at the notoriously slutty Remy Hadley prison, two children ago, Greg had promised his wife he’d never, ever, EVER have sex with any of the prisoners. And for the last 5 years, he’d held that promise, despite some truly gorgeous women propositioning him – and some not-so-gorgeous ones threatening him. Every other guard in the place thought he was a fool, but Greg Sarge had remained faithful to his wife.
Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. And that’s exactly what he did. Every chance he got.
“Greg, where’s the three-and-a-quarter inch drill?” young Jane Levy asked walking up to Sarge in just her prison pants and a tank-top that was easily a size too small for the already tiny girl. Her 22-year-old tits – no bra helping to keep them perky here – were stretching the thin cotton fabric nicely, and once more, Greg debated asking for the air conditioning to be pumped up in the show – except then the girls would have no reason to be walking around wearing so little.
“I think Michelle had it last, over by that table she was working on,” Greg said, his eyes blatantly on Jane’s cleavage. If the girl minded, it didn’t show, and she thanked him before heading across the shop. Greg’s eyes weren’t the only ones following the short redhead as she wiggled her shapely behind with every step. It was quite clear Jaime Pressly had more than a bit of desire for the young girl, and she visibly licked her lips as Jane walked past where Jaime was sanding a freshly adjusted chair for the cafeteria. Jane frowned and moved a little quicker.
Greg would have to watch out for that pair – Jaime couldn’t be counted on to not just try and rape the girl right there in the shop with everyone watching. And Greg was so horny, he’d be tempted to let the murderous bank robber have her way with the redhead until he at least got off from watching.
Suddenly, Greg’s view was blocked by an impressive set of tits wrapped in a tank top that was so tight, it might as well have been see-through, for two very erect nipples were pointing out towards him. Greg openly stared at them for a moment before glancing up, not at all surprised to find Megan Fox looking down at him, expectantly.
“Well?” she asked.
“I can’t,” Greg said. “It could cost me my job.”
“Only if they find out,” Megan said softly. “And you and I both know they won’t.”
“Megan, I just can’t-”
“It’s okay, Greg,” Megan said, leaning over, showing off more of her oh-so-distracting cleavage. God, why couldn’t Greg’s wife have tits like those? Even if only for a night. They looked so juicy, so bouncy, so fun!
“Greg?” Megan asked again, breaking into his reverie.
“What’s it going to take?” Megan asked. “I know you think I’m hot – if you want, I’m more than happy to go into the storage room with you. And I won’t even bargain with you – I’ll offer up all three holes.”
Greg whimpered. It’d been so long since he’d had a blowjob, and he’d NEVER actually fucked an ass with anything but his finger.
“I can’t, Megan. I love my wife.”
“She doesn’t have to know.”
“I can’t – I swore I’d never fuck a prisoner, and I won’t break that vow.”
Megan actually smiled at that. It wasn’t often she found a guy willing to keep vows instead of getting into her pants. It was refreshing.
“Well, there must be SOME way for me to convince you. What about a handy?”
“Not even a handy.”
Megan thought for a moment. “What if I just got naked, and you handled your own business?”
Greg considered that. His wife had walked in on him masturbating a number of times, especially in the last year, and hadn’t seemed at all concerned – though never turned on enough to join in. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had shower duties while at RH, seeing all the various girls naked and dripping wet. He’d certainly added those images to his personal spank bank and used them from time to time.
Megan could see him waffling and decided to up the ante a little. “What if I let you watch me do another prisoner?” she offered.
“W-what?” Greg asked. Despite having been involved in threesomes personally, Greg still found the sight of two women having sex as the single most erotic thing in the world. Just the thought of Megan going down on another woman was enough to tent his uniform pants. If he’d been standing up, Megan would’ve known he had him there and then.
“Okay, you’ve got a deal – BUT I get to pick the girl.”
“Okay,” Megan said, cursing inside. She’d hoped Greg would wait here until Megan could go find Hayden or Emma or Roselyn. Heck, maybe even Blake would’ve submitted if she’d known how important Greg’s help would be to the escape. Now Megan was going to have to seduce-
“Olivia,” Greg said, his voice barely a whisper as he looked across the room at Olivia Wilde. Olivia was wiping sweat from her brow as she fought with a wrench in what appeared to be some kind of pump. The act left a small streak of grease just above her eyebrows, but if the gorgeous prisoner felt it, she didn’t seem to care. To Megan, it only made her that much hotter.
“Let me get this straight – you want me to seduce Olivia there, take her into the storage room, fuck her brains out while you watch and jack off, and then you’ll make sure I can get at the tools I need later?”
“I’ll even make sure the battery packs are fully charged,” Greg said, his eyes locked on Olivia’s – not that Megan noticed, as her own eyes were focused on the beautiful brunette as she turned around and bent over to grab something in the cupboard behind her. Both Greg and Megan felt their jaws go slack when the thong Olivia wore surfaced from beneath her prison pants.
Megan smiled wolfishly. “You got yourself a deal, Mister.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Olivia Wilde could barely concentrate on making license plates – it was a rather mindless task anyway, one of the reasons it was usually handled by prisoners with nothing better to do. Usually, Olivia let her mind wander, thinking thoughts of freedom, revenge, or sex, her three most-desired wishes in order of importance. But today was different. Today, she wanted nothing more than to get one of the infamous San Fran 8 into a quiet corner, just the two of them alone, where Olivia would demand to know what they knew about Rhona Mitra.
That name had haunted her for months now, and she’d expected to never hear it again now that she was locked here in Remy Hadley for the rest of her life. But she’d just happened to overhear that legendary group of bank robbers mention Rhona’s name in passing, and ever since, Olivia had known she had to get to know that pack of alleged murderers and cutthroats.
Of course, doing so was easier said than done in a place like Remy Hadley. Sure, she could’ve just walked up to any one of them and started talking, but then every guard and prisoner in the place would know what was going on within thirty minutes – Olivia might not have been in Remy Hadley itself for long, but she’d done enough prison time to know gossip spread faster than fire in a place like this. And while Olivia didn’t think she’d ever hear Rhona Mitra’s name again, she didn’t for one second believe Rhona didn’t have someone in Remy Hadley keeping an eye on her.
Still, she had to know what the SF8 knew, and that meant approaching one of them some time when they were relatively alone. Meal time was out, as was any outside time – too many eyes around. But right now, the shop was thin with other convicts, and there were two of the bank robbers right here – Jaime and Megan.
Olivia ruled out Jaime at once – she’d once watched as the blonde had forced herself on Daniela Hantuchova just for asking Jaime to pass a towel in the showers. Olivia didn’t want to run the risk of getting her ass beat, so she looked towards Megan Fox instead. The sexy, tattooed car thief seemed far more warm and approachable than Jaime, though she wasn’t exactly cuddly, either. While not the bully Jaime was, Megan had certainly held her own any time anyone had tried to pick a fight with her.
Still, it wasn’t like Olivia had many other choices, and she was trying to think of a casual way to approach Megan when quite suddenly, there she was, hovering next to her as Olivia pressed yet another license plate.
“I need you,” Megan said. “In the back room.”
“Excuse me?” Olivia said, surprised.
“I need you,” Megan said, actually pulling Olivia up. “You and I are going to go into the back room, and we’re going to have sex.”
“We are?” Olivia asked, surprised at how forward this car thief was being.
“We are, and Greg over there is going to come and watch,” Megan continued, pulling Olivia towards that back room.
“Wait a minute, I don’t-” Olivia started to protest, but Megan cut her off.
“Listen, I’m willing to give you anything you want, but I really need your help right now. I promise, you just have to stand there and I’ll get you off. He won’t touch you – or me – and he should be good by the time you cum.”
Olivia tried to stop and gather her thoughts, but Megan pushed her through the door and was on her a moment later. Her hands grabbed at Olivia’s breasts through her tank-top, and Megan’s lips were all over the other prisoner’s neck. Generally more inclined to enjoy men more than women, Olivia was surprised at just how quickly she started moaning.
“Wait,” she gasped. “Wait, wait-”
“No waiting,” Megan said, reaching down and stripping Olivia’s tank-top up over her head, exposing Miss Wilde’s bare chest.
“Wow, you guys move fast,” Greg said, sliding into the room behind them.
“Shut up and watch, Greg, or the deal’s off,” Megan shot over her shoulder.
“Deal?” Olivia asked, clearly having missed something important.
“Hush, you,” Megan said, kissing Olivia on the lips once before dropping her mouth down onto one of Olivia’s nipples. Olivia swooned again. Megan had some serious oral skills, and they were all being focused on one nipple! Olivia was having a hard time not just succumbing to Megan and letting the tattooed girl have her way.
But Olivia was too smart to just give in to her lusts – no matter how much she wanted to. Not without at least trying to find out what was going on.
“Wait, wait-” she said, pushing Megan off her chest, and immediately regretting it, as the wonderful sensation of Megan’s tongue on her nipple vanished with it.
“Don’t tell me you only like boys,” Megan said. “Or that I’m not your type.”
“Oh, you’re my type,” Olivia said. “You’re so sexy, I’d strangle a mountain ox to get into your panties.”
“Well, there’s no mountain ox here for you to strangle, so how about you lose them pants and we give Greg her the show of a lifetime?”
“But – but why?!”
“I made him a promise, and you get the benefits,” Megan said. “Why, do I need to make a deal with you beyond getting you off?”
“Yes!” Olivia said at once. “When this is done, you tell me everything you and your friends know about Rhona Mitra.”
“Rhona?” Megan asked, surprised. “How do you-”
“Hey, Megan?” Greg interrupted. “If you’re stopping now, I gotta call it off. I barely got my dick out, and-”
“Fine, fine!” Megan said, exasperated. She turned to Olivia and looked her right in her dreamy eyes. “Here’s the deal. We fuck now, and when we’re done, we’ll talk about Rhona – but you’re answering my questions, too.”
“Deal,” Olivia said, reaching forward and pulling Megan’s head to her own, sealing the deal with a kiss. To get all her questions answered, Olivia would’ve let Megan and all her bank robber friends gangbang her with every guard in Remy Hadley watching. Getting fucked by Megan while one dude beat off in the corner was a bargain.
Megan broke the kiss and dropped to her knees, undoing Olivia’s pants as she went. The girl knew what she was doing, that was for sure, Before Olivia’s trousers hit the concrete, Megan’s mouth was over Olivia’s panty-covered slit, making the other prisoner moan in unexpected delight.
Olivia dropped her hands to Megan’s head, and held the other girl there, loving the sensation. Olivia did indeed generally prefer men, but she’d been in prison a while now, and Megan was far from her first girl. Still, the car thief knew her way around the outside of a pussy as well as she knew her way around a stick shift, because Olivia was already starting to hum.
There was a grunt across the room, and Olivia looked up to see Greg, his eyes locked on the nearly-naked Olivia receiving oral pleasure from the rather-clothed Megan, his dick in hand, stroking away like mad.
“He’s really not going to touch us?” Olivia asked, not sure why she was so concerned.
“Not one bit, right Greg?” Megan asked, removing her mouth from Olivia’s crotch just long enough to speak.
“R-r-right,” Greg stammered. “Megs – take your pants off, please?!”
Megan blinked, and realized she was still mostly dressed. She pulled back from Olivia and started stripping. She put no effort into being sexy, she just took off her tank-top and pants, then stepped out of her prison-issue panties, and suddenly the tattooed sex goddess was naked in front of Olivia, making the other girl drool. God, this woman was HOT. And Olivia got to fuck her AND get some answers? There was only one thing missing from this whole scenario.
“Why are you so worried about him?” Megan asked, running a finger over one of her own erect nipples. Megan’s tits were huge compared to Olivia’s rather flat chest, and the other girl was having trouble prying her eyes off them.
“I- I just, you know, ah…” Olivia stammered as Megan stepped closer, pressing her naked body right up against Olivia’s. Wilde thought for sure her skin was going to burn right off from the heat Megan was throwing off. Not that she cared.
A sly smile suddenly crossed Megan’s face. “I know what you need. You’re a cock girl, and you’re thinking you need something hard to get you off.”
Olivia’s eyes flashed in warning. Was Megan suggesting what she thought she was suggesting?
“Uh, Megs-” Greg started to protest, but Megan was already moving. She spun Olivia around by the shoulders and pressed her up against an unused work bench. Another push followed, this time at the center of Olivia’s neck, and suddenly the panty-clad Miss Wilde was bent over at the waist, her ass sticking out towards Megan and Greg.
“Oh!” Was all Olivia had time to shout before Megan reached past her. Grabbing a loose screwdriver by the business end, Megan paused only long enough to such the handle into her mouth once – that act alone nearly set Greg off – before plunging the phallic object into Olivia from behind.
“Ahhhh! FUCK!” Olivia exclaimed, more from the shot of pleasure blasting through her cunt than from the shock of having the improvised dildo start fucking her. And fucking her was exactly what Megan was doing, shoving the screwdriver in backwards over and over again, each thrust making Olivia see sparks.
“I know it’s not a cock,” Megan hissed in her ear as she continued to take her from behind. “But it seems to be doing the trick.”
“Fuck yes! Fuck me, Megan! Fuck my hot little hole with your screwdriver!” It was, perhaps, the dirtiest thing Olivia Wilde had ever said to another girl.
“Oh, fuck!” Greg gasped, clearly enjoying the show. His hand was whipping up and down his cock now like crazy, faster even than Megan was fucking. Suddenly for Olivia, the idea that she was being watched while Megan was defiling her from behind was even hotter than the act itself. Olivia felt an uncontrollable burst building up inside her, and she knew that she couldn’t stop it.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Olivia moaned. Megan reacted at once by placing a spare finger onto Olivia’s engorged clit. That was all it took. With a wordless hiss, Olivia’s knees buckled, and orgasm collapsed her brain. She fell to the floor, the work bench the only thing keeping her from hitting her head. Somewhere, she heard something crashing, but she felt no pain – only blissful pleasure. For a long moment, all Olivia could see was bright lights and swirling colors, but those quickly cleared, revealing Megan standing over her, still naked.
“You okay?” Megan asked.
“Mmmm, yeah,” Olivia purred. “Wow, that was hot.”
“Tell that to Greg,” Megan said, jerking a thumb over towards the guard, who was on the floor, wet pants around his ankles as he tried to get back up from a pile of tools he’d backed into when his own orgasm hit.
“What about you?” Olivia asked.
“Oh, I got what I wanted. Isn’t that right, Greg?”
“That’s right,” Greg said. “Wow, that was hot.”
“Not what I meant, but okay,” Olivia said as Megan helped her up.
“Come on, get dressed, and we’ll go talk about Rhona. And maybe then you can repay the favor somewhere a little more comfortable. If you’re into comfort, that is,” Megan added with a wink.
* * * * * * * * *
The guards had deposited Emma back in Warden Winslet’s office and were on their way out when a voice called out.
“Warden? You got a moment?” Maggie Q asked, sliding in behind Emma.
“What is it, Quigley?” Kate asked. “You can see I‘m a little busy here, right?”
“You said you wanted the reports from the last week’s night shift employees right away,” Maggie said. “Here they are.”
“Paperwork,” Kate muttered. “It’ll be the death of me, Quigley.” Ignoring Emma, Kate took the papers and moved to her desk, actually placing the pile of reports right over the key card Emma needed. Silently, the safe cracker cursed. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
“Sorry, ma’am, but you know the state regs,” Maggie said, eying Emma suspiciously. “Second time today, ma’am?”
“Huh?” Kate asked, looking over the papers Maggie had handed her. “Oh, Emma. Yes. Well, it’s been a stressful day, what with all the paperwork.”
“Sorry to add to it then, ma’am,” Maggie said. “If there’s anything I can do to help out…”
“There is!” Emma said, seizing on a half-brained idea before she could let it slip by.
Both prison officials looked at Emma.
“You have something in mind, Miss Roberts?” Kate asked sternly.
“Well, it just occurred to me that if you need a second helping of me today, maybe you need more attention than that,” Emma said, sliding up next to Maggie.
“What? What are you-” Maggie started to protest, but Emma silenced the guard with a kiss to the lips.
Kate didn’t move from her desk, but her eyes were now locked on the two women kissing in her office.
“Come on, Maggie,” Emma said. “I’ve seen you checking me out – and what’s more, I’ve seen you checking out the boss over there. Well, now here’s your chance. Why don’t you slide out of that uniform and kill two birds with one kiss?”
Maggie looked torn. Emma was already undoing the guard’s belt, and dropping it to the floor at Maggie’s feet. Soon, the petite criminal was working her magic fingers over the button to Maggie’s pants. Maggie glanced towards Kate, but the warden only looked on hungrily, her paperwork now completely forgotten.
“Kate, be a dear and close the door,” Emma said, reaching into Maggie’s pants and pressing her fingers against the flimsy fabric of the panties covering Miss Quigley’s snatch. “I think Maggie here would appreciate some privacy.”
“Who’s in charge here?” Kate asked, but she got up and closed the door anyway. By the time she got there, Maggie’s pants were around her ankles, her long legs seemingly growing out of them, running a frightful distance before reaching Maggie’s thong-covered ass.
“These are lovely,” Emma said, hooking a finger into the waistband of the thong. “But kind of kinky for working in a prison.”
“This is Remy Hadley,” Maggie said. “No guard goes a week here without getting at least some head.”
“Mmmm, I wish you’d come to me for your head,” Emma said, dropping to her knees and placing a kiss on the front of Maggie’s panties. The Asian guard swooned a bit, and nearly fell back, her feet still trapped in her pants. But Kate was sick of being a bystander at this point, and she slid up behind the exotic guard, the warden catching her subordinate by slipping her arms around from behind and squeezing the small bet perky tits hidden beneath Maggie’s uniform shirt.
“What about you, Kate?” Emma asked, looking up from Maggie’s crotch. “You’ve always wanted Maggie here, right? Got a little of that yellow fever, that Asian Fixation?”
“YES!” Kate hissed loudly in Maggie’s ear, one of her hands fishing up from the open bottom of Maggie’s shirt, discovering that while Maggie wore panties, she didn’t feel the need for a bra while working. Kate nearly impaled her palm on the guard’s erect nipple, but neither woman complained.
“Then maybe we should all get naked and see if we can get Maggie’s two birds killed while we cheer you up – sound good to you, Kate?”
Emma never got a verbal response, but in a matter of minutes, all three women were stark naked on the floor. Maggie was spread eagled on her back, Kate on one side of her, suckling away at one of the guard’s nipples, while Emma lay on the other, nursing the other nipple while her fingers deftly plumbed Maggie Q’s depths. The guard with the dragon tattoo was writhing about in pleasure as she got it from both a cougar and a kitten at the same time.
“Yeah, that’s it Quigley,” Winslet said between nibbles upon Maggie’s nipple. “Show me what a good little slutty employee you are.”
“I’m such a slutty employee,” Maggie responded, immediately rolling away from Kate to be atop of Emma. Surprised, Emma let herself swoon a little as Maggie immediately sunk two fingers into the prisoner’s snatch and began frigging her like crazy. “I’m so slutty, I’m going to make this prisoner scream.”
“Oh, fuck! FUCK!” Emma cried out, reveling in the pleasure of Maggie Q’s fingers.
“I was hoping you’d show ME how slutty you were,” Kate said as she stepped in behind Maggie, kissing the guard’s neck before nibbling on her ear.
“Yes!” Emma said quickly. “Fuck Kate! Fuck her real good, Maggie! Mmmmm, I’m going to cream just thinking about it.”
“You’re going to cream because I’m going to MAKE you cream,” Maggie said defiantly.
“Then you’d better start using your tongue and not your fingers,” Emma said.
“Bit of an oral girl, are you?” Maggie said, sliding down Emma’s small body, pausing only to lick each nipple before jumping down to Emma’s cunt, where her tongue immediately began to work at licking Emma to oblivion.
Emma groaned in both delight and frustration. Maggie had a serious talent for carpet munching, but she was keeping Emma pinned to the floor and leaving Kate unattended – a fact, judging by the look on her face, the warden was NOT fond of. And Emma wouldn’t be able to snag the keycard so long as Maggie was on top of her.
“Enough, it’s my turn,” Kate said, pulling Maggie’s head out of Emma’s crotch and immediately kissing the wet-faced oriental. Emma was frozen in place for a moment, caught up by the seductive sight of Kate Winslet kissing Maggie Q’s cum-covered mouth. The fact that it was Emma’s juices coating Maggie’s face only made Emma that much hornier.
Kate fell upon Maggie, and the two prison workers ignored the inmate as they made out, each grabbing at the other’s breasts and pussies. Emma slowly slid away, but wasn’t quite able to keep herself from sticking a hand between her own legs.
Kate seemed quite intent on having as much of Maggie as possible, and she quickly assumed the dominant position, laying Maggie on her back and sticking at least three fingers into the guard’s slit. Emma found herself matching Kate’s finger count and speed in her own pussy, the image in front of her nearly making Emma forget the whole reason she was in the office to begin with.
“Fuck! FuckFuckFuckFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUUUUUCCCKKKKAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” Maggie’s cry of pleasure came as a surprise to both Kate and Emma, but from the way the Asian guard’s head bobbed on her neck and her toes curled up tightly, there was no doubt Maggie’s orgasm was real. Emma cursed herself and yanked her hand out of her crotch – she may have just missed her chance to grab the keycard. She was still five feet from the desk, and Kate was looking over at her with a big grin, her face now coated with Maggie’s cum.
“Be careful, Emma. Maggie here could replace you as my favorite pastime if she can make me cum better than you can.”
“Only one way to find out,” Emma said suggestively.
“OK,” Maggie said between ragged breaths. “Hop up on the desk.”
“Excuse me?” Kate said.
“Not you, the prisoner,” Maggie said. Emma blinked, but did as she was told, taking a seat on Kate’s desk, which was tall enough for the short Miss Roberts’ feet to hang well above the ground. Even as Kate sputtered protests, Maggie dropped to her knees between Emma’s legs, and began working her tongue inside the young prisoner once more.
“Oh, FUCK!” Emma cried as Maggie’s tongue did amazing things inside her slit. Was it a tongue, or some sort of magical, twisting dildo? Maggie was hitting corners that Emma hadn’t known she’d had down there. As the surprise pleasure rocked through Emma’s body, she fell back and was barely able to get her hands back to keep herself from laying flat on the desk.
And her right hand just happened to land on the keycard!
“Yes!” Emma said, then covered herself by moaning at the pleasure Maggie was giving her. She was halfway there. She just had to figure out how to get the keycard out of the office without being seen. If she could get to her discarded uniform – but Kate was hovering over Maggie, glaring at Emma like she was scum of the earth. Which, Emma supposed, was how most wardens thought about their prisoners, but this was different.
This was jealousy, plain and simple.
Emma found something about Kate’s jealousy incredibly arousing, and somehow that was enough to tip her over the edge. Her climax flooded through her nerves, and her elbows gave out, landing her flat on her back after all. Maggie, the oral pro that she was, kept right on licking as Emma’s body quivered and shook with climax, and that only made the orgasm better. Emma’s fingers and toes curled, her right hand gripping the vital key card so hard, had she been aware of it, she might have worried she was damaging it.
When she finally came down, Maggie looked up from between Emma’s legs, her face freshly covered with Emma’s girl cum. Emma would’ve enjoyed the sight, had she been able to lift her head from the desk.
“ENOUGH!” Kate bellowed. “GUARDS!”
That brought Emma up and snapped her out of her post-coital bliss. Why was Kate calling for more guards?
“What?” Maggie said, looking over at Kate. “That wasn’t what you wanted?”
“I wanted you to fuck ME!” Kate snarled as the door opened and two more guards appeared. If either of them were surprised to be greeted by three naked women, one of them a guard and another the warden, they didn’t show it. “Get this prisoner out of here. I’m through with her for now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the guards replied. They stepped towards Emma, who with nowhere else to hide the keycard, slid it between her ass cheeks. “Do you want her dressed first?”
“No, march her back to her cell naked. Let her rile up some of the other prisoners,” Kate said vindictively. “Maybe a little lesson in prison sex will teach Miss Roberts where her loyalties should lie.”
The guards grabbed Emma by the shoulders and marched her out of the office, as Kate turned to make sure Maggie knew she wasn’t going anywhere until she’d gotten the warden off several times.
“Why are you walking funny?” one of the guards asked. “Is something wrong with your ass?”
“Let’s just say Officer Quigley liked it a little too much,” Emma said, thinking quickly.
“Funny, I’d never thought of her as an anal queen,” the other guard said.
Emma kept her mouth shut. She just let the two guards think her ass was sore as she awkwardly walked back to her cell, buck naked, but smuggling the key card she and her friends would need to escape anyway.
Considering she got a heck of an orgasm out of the deal, Emma didn’t think that could’ve gone any better.
* * * * * * * * *
There was something to be said for tradition.
Although Hayden Panettiere was offlimits to the male guards, both the ones with and without X-chromosomes got to use the windows and bars all through Remy Hadley to see her weekly routine; every week, one of the prisoners came to the tiny blonde in her cell on the third level after visiting time. Jase, watching as she sat on her bunk swinging her legs and whistling cheerfully, wondered what she’d do if no one turned up – the little minx might eventually take things in her own hands (well, HAND really) if he was lucky..
Nope. There it was, right on time. Jase mentally high-fived himself as Roselyn Sanchez stepped into the cell and gave Hayden a hello kiss, thus completing the set – Miss Panettiere had entertained seemingly half the prison since she’d arrived (she’d even let Kelly Osbourne have a go. KELLY OSBOURNE. One of the few straight prisoners who none of the guards (male or female) would go near, not even drunk. Truly, this girl was a hero), but of late she’d started to go with her fellow gang members… even that psycho Jaime had had a go. Brad had been watching that day, and he’d told the others that the blonde pixie had said something to herself like “Should’ve been Blake instead.” Jase couldn’t blame her.
Apart from Blake, however, Hayden’d had a tete-a-tete with all the gang but one, and now here was the leader, cradling Hayden’s head and kissing her on the lips. Jase wondered if her girlfriend knew that she was racing back here for some supplemental loving after the conjugal meetings.
There she was, grabbing one of Roselyn’s breasts with one hand and stroking the Latina’s legs with the other, returning her kisses while the leader of the gang fondled Hayden’s soft, firm little body. “I know you get this all the time, but you’ve got an amazing butt… for a white girl,” she smiled.
“And you’ve got a great body… for a Latina,” Hayden giggled.
“You’re so racist,” Roselyn chuckled as her fingers found the young ex-reporter’s box – some of her girls, it pained her to think, had let the shaving go a little amiss in prison; but she was pleased to see that Hayden was perfectly groomed below (as were Blake and, she hated to admit, Jaime – must be a blonde thing). Her fingertips stroked the snatch and its perfect tiny landing strip… how someone so tiny could have such a perfectly plump pussy Roselyn had no idea.
“Time for dessert,” Hayden said quietly.
“No… you know the rules. No tongue, just fingers.”
Hayden let herself pout a little as Roselyn started to enter. Jase also pouted a little; he too wished Roselyn would snack on her like Anne Hathaway had done the day before she was released.
The leader of the gang slid her fingers through the blonde’s slit very closely and delicately, almost like she was feeling for something. They felt so good inside Hayden; she was breathing deeply and increasingly fast, while her own fingers in turn were dipping into Roselyn. The two gazed at each other, watching the other start to gleam with delight as they began to get mutually moist.
“Another race?” Roselyn asked, just managing to concentrate on what she was doing.
“I get to ride that tight butt of yours if I win,” Hayden moaned, shaking under the leader’s slinky, searching fingers.
“You’re on…” Miss Sanchez jerked back sharply, as if she’d been tasered; Hayden’s fingers were on duty. The blonde’s digits seemed to be everywhere at once inside her dark, dripping pussy; either she had had plenty of lonely nights before she hooked up with Troian Bellisario or she was a natural. With two fingers playing with Roselyn’s clit and another two exploring what was beyond, the darker lady glanced downwards and out to see her own hand running through what Hayden had…
“Fuck me,” she whispered, impressed at what she saw. How someone so tiny could have such an incredibly plump pussy she couldn’t begin to guess; the girl’s cuntlips were almost as big as the ones on her face. And imagine her lovebutton… Roselyn kicked herself mentally for saying no tongues – no wonder Anne Hathaway had looked so pleased with herself swaggering out of Hayden’s cell. What had she been THINKING?
Roselyn rubbed Hayden’s pleasingly fat little clit, and was delighted to see her lover shiver as the middle finger slid deeper inside, enjoying the warmth and relishing how wet she was. But it was Roselyn who was really quaking, her other hand fondling her torso and her teeth biting the inside of her mouth as Hayden’s fingers found every single one of her love triggers. Roselyn’s hand kept up the pace, but she was shaking inside the girl’s box, wishing she could somehow munch on her while frigging her at the same time…
She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t hold out any longer. Roselyn rarely screamed on coming, and today was no exception – but she did let out a long, high groan of acquiescence as she came in close and kissed Hayden hard and full on the lips, her pussy soaking the blonde’s fingers and the confined space being suddenly filled with a pleasantly musky aroma. Hayden’s tongue flicked inside Roselyn’s mouth the way she was looking forward to doing with the woman’s high, tight asscheeks soon.
As Jase watched, by now torn between wanting to be one or the other of them and delighting that he wasn’t sharing this with anyone, Roselyn folded an arm around Hayden’s shoulders and pulled the orgasming girl closer, their lips still together and the blonde shaking as the woman’s hand kept on going, now moving faster and somehow probing deeper…
Hayden broke free from Roselyn’s mouth and cried out as she felt her box soaking the woman’s fingers; her hands gripped the Latina’s shoulders as she surrended, sinking back onto her bunk with a sigh. She glanced down on her lap, Roselyn’s non-embracing arm still between her lovely thighs and the hand she had been using, covered with Panettiere love-juice, lightly brushing her box, the thumb and forefinger rolling together slowly.
Older woman and younger woman smiled in harmony, looking at the capsule Roselyn had between those fingers. It was perfectly round, hard and very small – but it was big enough to fit through the “urethra” at the end of the device Troian had used on Hayden that afternoon. And almost every time she visited.
Roselyn discreetly slipped the capsule into her pants, all out of Jase’s line of vision. The goodbye kiss she gave Hayden, however, he got to see. “Show’s over,” he said to himself, and made to check his watch to see when he’d HAVE to leave for the next section.
“See you in about an hour,” Roselyn whispered, and got up to leave.
Hayden discreetly coughed, and rolling her eyes Roselyn bent over. As the blonde started to remove the leggy brunette’s pants, Jase got ready for act two; it wouldn’t be like it was the first time he was ever late on his rounds.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Remy Hadley could be a maze, especially in the lower sections. But almost every prisoner who’d been in the place more than two or three weeks knew the way to the Laundry first hand. Shay Mitchell had her first day working Laundry after a week in the joint, and had been given regular returns to the place every week since. It was easy for her to make the twists and turns down the various hallways, past locked storage rooms and abandoned isolation cells until she reached the hot, humid room where all the prison’s washing was done.
A sheen of sweat hit Shay almost at once, steam rolling about the room and actually obscuring her view of the dozens of washers and dryers that lined the walls, as well as some of the half-dressed prisoners working down in the bowels of the place.
“Hey, Shay,” a voice called out. A moment later, a cart filled with clean uniforms came rolling out of the clouds, pushed by Ellen Pompeo. Ellen had stripped down to her prison bra, but was carrying her shirt, no doubt ready to get dressed again before heading out to deliver the uniforms.
“Hey Ellen,” Shay replied, unzipping her own uniform top. It was so hot in the Laundry – some fault with the old dryers that caused them to bleed off heat and moisture as they worked – that most of the prisoners preferred to wear as little as possible while they were down here. Shay certainly didn’t mind – it made the view oh-so-much more pleasant.
Shay didn’t plan on staying long, so she kept her tank-top on, but the top half of her prison jumpsuit came off quickly, and she tied it around her waist as she worked her way deeper into the fog. She passed other prisoners working away, others just hanging out, and more than one couple making out – including Claire Holt and Margarita Levieva actually having sex on one of the running washing machines. The steam provided prisoners a hint of privacy and sometimes that was all it took.
Shay wasn’t here to work, or do her own laundry, but considering how close they were to breaking out, Shay needed to both get something, and say goodbye to someone.
“Watch that bleach, Indiana – we want these prison jumpsuits to stay orange! Lauren, you might as well take that tank top off and throw it in with that load, you’ve sweated through it enough. Taylor Cole! Amy Adams! Stop fighting this instant before I call the guards and you two are sent to solitary for a week!”
“I’ll never know how you see all that in this soup,” Shay said, approaching the woman running the Laundry. Holly Marie Combs had once been a prisoner at Remy Hadley having been part of her own high profile criminal gang. But upon being arrested, Holly had decided to go straight – while going gay for then-Warden Alyssa Milano. After her sentence had ended, Alyssa had made sure Holly had gotten hired on as the head of the Laundry, and she hadn’t gone anywhere since.
Holly, well versed in the heat the Laundry room could give off, wore a light, open dress that was bright yellow and showed off plenty of skin. Normally, that sort of thing would’ve been forbidden in a prison, but the new Warden hadn’t wanted to disrupt the deal with Holly that Warden Alyssa had going, so Holly essentially got away with a lot. Including bedding any prisoners who caught her eye while working in the Laundry. Shay didn’t need to look up Holly’s skirt to know the older woman wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Shay!” Holly said, smiling warmly. “You aren’t on shift down here for two more days.”
“I know, Holly,” Shay said. “But I was hoping you had that package for me.”
Holly smiled slyly. A former prisoner herself, Holly knew how important it was for prisoners to get little trinkets and luxuries behind bars. And as one of the few unsearched people to have access to the prisoners directly, she was in a unique situation of being able to smuggle in things. She drew the line at weapons or drugs – not even alcohol. But if someone wanted some headphones, or a book, or even a sex toy, Holly was willing to increase her meager prison paycheck by sneaking something in every now and then. Her prices were insane – usually double whatever the item in question was – but she always got whatever it was. It just might take some time.
“Sure, I got it,” Holly said. “Wasn’t a problem at all.”
“So… can I have it?” Shay asked.
“You know, I usually charge to get stuff in here.”
“But they’re free – find them at any newsstand,” Shay pointed out.
“And I didn’t pay a penny for the one I have,” Holly agreed.
“So, what, you want me to give you money for a free item?”
“I said I want payment, Shay. Not money.” As she spoke, Holly gazed pointedly at Shay’s ample cleavage.
“Oh,” Shay said, catching on.
“Yeah, ‘Oh,’” Holly said. “You’ve got a great body, Shay.”
“You can save your flattery, Holly,” Shay said. “It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve had to pay for something with sex in this place.”
“I love a smart girl,” Holly said, reaching over and cupping one of Shay’s breasts through her bra. “Come on over to the pile.”
Shay sighed. The pile was quite literally a pile of dirty laundry. Mostly sheets from the prison beds, there was also uniforms and underwear thrown in there, towels from the showers, and some other odds and ends that needed washing. No matter how much laundry was done in Remy Hadley, there was always more to be done. When it came down from whatever part of the prison was getting their stuff cleaned today, it was all dumped out into a giant pile. Holly would send prisoners over to sort the stuff every so often, but the pile never really managed to shrink somehow. How Holly knew where to send the stuff, no one knew, but no one had ever gotten so much as the wrong sock, so no one complained.
Holly’s hand slipped down to Shay’s ass as they walked through the steam towards the pile. Shay was honestly a little surprised that this was the first time Holly had tried to take advantage of her. Shay had gotten a few things in with the laundry woman before, and always paid for them with what little cash she’d been able to scrape up around the prison. She’d known Combs found her attractive, and the feeling was mutual, but Holly always seemed to bed some other prisoner instead – including Grace on one occasion, right in front of Shay.
“Why don’t you take your clothes off and leave them over here?” Holly suggested, pointing towards an empty work bench. Shay sighed, and took off her bra first, letting Shay and anyone else who could peer through the steam ogle her chest first. By the time she stepped out of her prison issue panties, she could hear the whispers of those prisoners just out-of-sight in the laundry. While the steam offered some privacy, everyone also knew exactly what you were doing, and if they wanted to watch, there really wasn’t anything you could do to stop them.
“Oh, you are just beautiful,” Holly said, walking around Shay, admiring the younger woman’s curves. “They must eat you alive upstairs. Do you get fucked every day?”
“Not every day,” Shay said.
“Well, let’s get you off today, shall we?” Holly said. “Time to pay the piper, my dear.”
With that, Shay stepped over to the pile, dropped to her knees, and turned just in time to see Holly pull up the skirt of her dress, exposing her pussy to the prisoner. Shay leaned forward a bit and got to work at once, sliding her tongue into Holly’s box and immediately tasting the sweet and sour juices the older woman was pumping out like crazy. Shay got a little thrill as that taste hit her – getting to feast on Holly Marie Combs was a rather wonderful way to pay off a debt.
“Mmmmm… such a skilled tongue!” Holly groaned in delight, gently sliding one of her hands into Shay’s hair, lightly holding the prisoner closer to her crotch. Shay took that as a sign to lick harder, making sure to slide her tongue all the way out and up and over Holly’s erect little clit. The Laundry matron moaned her approval, and Shay kept that pace up for several long minutes.
It was all Mitchell could do to not reach between her legs and touch herself while feasting on Combs’ juices. Shay was already regretting never finding an excuse to fuck Holly before this, but the taste was intoxicating, and Shay found herself thinking that if for some reason the escape plan failed, at least she’d be able to lick Holly every day for the rest of her life trapped here in Remy Hadley.
Part of what made this so hot for Shay was that she knew she was being watched. Other prisoners, guards, maybe even security cameras were focusing on them through the steam, seeing Shay naked on her knees, servicing a woman she barely knew. It certainly wasn’t the first time Shay had performed for a live audience before – one of her first post-family cons had involved performing as a stripper at a lesbian bachlorette party that went WAY out of hand. But every time Shay got naughty in front of some others, she got a little extra thrill out of it, and this certainly wasn’t any different.
Holly was panting hard and heavy now, her fingers tightly gripping Shay’s hair, keeping the con woman’s head locked to her crotch. Her juices were flowing faster now, and Shay had licked more than enough girls to know Holly Marie Combs was getting awfully close to an orgasm. And when Shay Mitchell knew just how to bring her over the edge. Carefully, she edged her hand up Holly’s leg, intending to slide a pair of fingers into the dripping wet snatch-
-only to have Holly suddenly push her back hard enough that Shay went sprawling into the pile of dirty laundry behind her.
“Not yet,” Holly hissed, clearly trying to get ahold of her own body’s reactions. “I have to taste you first, Shay.”
Shay leaned back and watched in amazement as Holly lifted her entire dress up over her head in one quick movement, giving Shay plenty of reason to believe Holly’s breasts were works of wonder. Now as naked as Shay was, Holly dropped to her hands and knees, and quickly crawled between Shay’s spread legs, kissing and licking the insides of her thighs until she reached Shay’s steaming honey pot.
Shay’s eyes went wide as Holly dropped her mouth down right atop the prisoner’s clitoris, practically drilling at the bud. Shay felt her head roll back on her shoulders, and wanted to reach forward and grab Holly’s hair like the older woman had done to her, but Shay could barely keep her body up on her elbows, the ferocity of Holly’s tongue lashing keeping her from being able to do much more than moan in delight.
There was some laughing and cheering from somewhere in the steam around them, but Shay couldn’t figure out who – and didn’t care. If it had taken Shay a few minutes to bring Holly close to climax, it was taking the prison worker mere seconds to get the prisoner to a similar level.
“Oh god! Oh God! Holly! Holly! YES!” Shay cried out, unable to control herself. Holly’s tongue was just slamming into her clit, and each hard, wet, slippery-soft thrust was like a little piece of heaven between her legs.
“Mmm, not yet my sweet,” Holly said suddenly.
“Gah!” Shay cried out in frustration as the older woman moved her tongue off of the prisoner’s clit. Carefully, slowly, Holly traced her tongue and lips up Shay’s body, running a string of kisses past her belly button, pausing only briefly to suck once on each nipple, before continuing up Shay’s long neck. Finally, Holly placed a passionate kiss upon Shay’s mouth – and shoved three fingers into the younger woman’s snatch at the same time.
“Mmmmm!” Shay moaned into Holly’s mouth, loving the sensation. She reached down with her hand and found Holly’s pussy wet and waiting for her. This must have been what Holly wanted, because she increased the speed of her thrusts in time with Shay’s movement. Their mouths never breaking the kiss, the two women fell into the dirty laundry, pounding away at each other until neither one could take it any longer.
“Oh fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Shay bellowed as orgasm overcame her, arcing her back and sending her eyeballs rolling about in her head. Holly hit her climax at the same time, her body going limp atop Shay’s, convulsing a little at the hips as she squeezed her eyes tight against the wave of bliss. For several long moments, they lay there in the pile of dirty clothes, each cumming in their own way.
Then, suddenly, Holly was getting up, searching for her dress. Shay blinked, surprised to find the other woman moving on so quickly.
“Your clothes are over there, sweetie,” Holly said. “I’ve got that item you wanted back over here.”
Shay hurried to get redressed and follow, barely snapping her bra together before Holly stopped and handed her exactly what she’d came for.
“And for the record, Shay,” Holly added, “you can pay for anything you want with sex from now on.”
“Mmmm… hope I need something else soon,” Shay said, winking at Holly. Shay promised herself that if she did get stuck back in Remy Hadley, she’d come right to Holly and request something. Anything.
“What do you need real estate listings for, anyway?” Holly asked as Shay left the Laundry.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shay rushed back to her cell, ignoring all the other prisoners and guards – though she suspected Brad, who spotted her running through the hallways, might follow her. If he did, it might actually help sell what she had to do next. Witnesses tended to do that.
When Shay and her friends escaped, they would need a place to lay low. While they gave some thought to staying with Troian, Hayden and her lover lived in a small apartment, and that would certainly be one of the first places the cops would come searching for them. Same for Roselyn’s girlfriend, Alicia’s place. Or really, any other connection any of them had ever had – sooner or later, working down the list, the cops would come looking for the escaped prisoners. That left them looking for a place to hide out that no one had ever heard of before…
Holly Marie Combs had seemed a little skeptical of Shay’s reasons for wanting a real estate brochure. Shay had explained that she wanted to post some pictures of places she might live when she got paroled from prison. Of course, none of the girls accused of robbing the bank would ever be up for parole, so if Holly knew that, she’d know Shay was lying. But that was okay, too. Just like Brad, who was now idly watching Shay from down the hallway and doing a poor job of looking like he wasn’t staring, the more Holly thought she knew, the better.
Shay flipped through the book slowly, spending extra time admiring the more expensive and larger places. She read carefully, ruling out any place where someone was still living inside. But as she went, she circled some of the fancier foreclosures, including a large add for a multi-million dollar mansion out in Marin County that some investment banker had lost when his investments went belly-up. Shay went through the entire book, circling several similar places. Finally, towards the back, she got to what she was really looking for.
It wasn’t just mansions or homes that were being abandoned in the bad economy. Right there, just outside of San Fran itself, was an entirely abandoned apartment complex on the south side of San Fran. Shay tried to hide her smile as she memorized the address, then flipped back to that investment banker’s mansion she’d circled earlier. It wasn’t the mansion itself that she was so interested in – it was all the blank space around the add, perfect for writing down the address she’d just memorized.
Quickly scribbling the address down, Shay now took great care to rip out the mansion’s listing, making sure all the information was contained, leaving nothing behind. She glanced up and saw Brad giving her a quizzical look. She smiled, but sighed to herself. She’d have to distract the Y-chromosome carrier, and there really was only one good way to do that without having to actually TOUCH him. She’d have to show him something instead.
One of the things Shay had paid Holly to smuggle in earlier was a bottle of skin lotion – something from Victoria’s Secret, ironically – that she used to keep from getting all dry and itchy in the prison. She usually waited for this time of day to apply it, when most of the other prisoners and guards were elsewhere, giving her some hint of privacy to strip down to her bra and panties and cover her arms, legs, and chest with the lotion. It had been a habit for several weeks now, and while she hadn’t intended to use it as such, it would now serve as the perfect distraction for a horny guard who was enjoying the show.
Shay quickly shrugged out of her shirt, leaving herself in just her prison bra. Brad’s eyes went wide – none of the male guards had gotten anywhere with Shay, so this was a bit of a treat. She started with her legs, quickly applying the lotion and rubbing it in. She was normally more thorough, but Brad didn’t know that. She moved up to her chest, and once more glanced at the guard – his eyes were locked on her skin, his pants tenting noticeably.
Feeling like she’d need a good shower after this, Shay let her left boob pop out of the bra. Brad’s eyes went wide, and Shay gasped, pretending to be surprised. Quickly, she shoved the escaped breast back into the bra – and shoved the ripped piece of paper into her bra with it. Quickly, she finished applying her lotion and shot Brad a dirty look before getting dressed again. He didn’t seem to mind, but kept watching, even after she was clothed again.
There was one last thing Shay had to do – hide the real estate magazine. Treating the now almost-useless magazine as a small treasure, Shay lifted up her mattress and hid the ill-gotten item up near where her head went, safely out-of-sight. None of the other prisoners would know about it, but Brad would. And that was actually all she needed him to see.
As soon as the San Fran Eight made their escape, the cops would be all over Remy Hadley, looking for clues about where they might have gone. They wouldn’t find any, because until this very moment, none of the girls knew where they were going, nor did Troian helping them on the outside. Only Shay now knew, and she wouldn’t tell anyone until they were in the getaway vehicle. If something happened to her, they’d have to find somewhere else to hide, but Shay wouldn’t be able to betray them, either.
It would have been child’s play for Grace to get the information from the prison computers, but then they would’ve known they were looking at apartment buildings as well as abandoned homes – there was no hiding internet history on a prison computer. So Shay had used Holly to smuggle in the listings. Everything Shay had done since getting them was designed to throw the cops off their trail.
Holly knew Shay had the listings. Brad knew where she’d hidden them, and that she tore a piece out. When the cops got a hold of the listings, they’d match the missing piece up with another copy of the listings, and know right where the escaped prisoners were running.
Except they’d be on the other side of San Fran, hiding out in a run-down apartment complex. Shay figured that would buy them a fair chunk of time, at least.
The only question was if it was long enough to find Rhona Mitra or no.
* * * * * * * * * *
“What took you so long, babe?” Emma asked Shay, reaching up to kiss her as she entered the library.
“I had a few errands to run.”
“Errands for who, Mocha Buns? The Limey warden’s already got Jailbait for that,” Jaime pointed out.
“I’m 20, forgotten?” the safecracker huffed.
“You still look like a kid, kid.”
“Fight about it later,” Roselyn chided as the gang, all together now, moved in around the terminal Grace was sitting at; Megan nervously eyed the entrance.
“Relax,” Blake told her. “It’s always pretty slow in the afternoon and no one’s around this time of day. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, we got the place to ourselves till closing time,” Emma assured Megan as Roselyn took the capsule out, handing it to Grace.
“Okay, Hayden… let’s see what babygirl fucked into you this time,” the computer girl said as she separated the two halves of the vial above the desktop, grateful yet again for her slim fingers. A little computer chip dropped onto the surface, not too far from a small blue flashdrive – this was another little gift Grace had gotten for services rendered to the guards. It had been the first one she’d received following a session with Gemma and Katharine McPhee (and unfortunately the last before that juicy little guard had taken up a new job at an all-male prison); Grace had told them that she needed something to store her anime porn on. Which was true, but it wasn’t on this one.
As the other members watched, Grace opened up the drive and inserted the chip. As with the others, it wouldn’t be in there for long – just long enough to get the intel. Plugging in the flashdrive, Grace logged in with Emma’s password. The screen soon gave way to a pleasant mountain scenery wallpaper, and almost no icons. Except one folder, which nominally contained info on books brought out and returned (or books not returned).
But first, Grace opened the contents of the flashdrive to send them into the system, praising the powers that be that this was a fast PC. Within seconds, the file was in the computer, and a couple of clicks later the goods were on the screen. Eight pairs of eyes noted the image.
“So that’s it?” Roselyn asked.
“That’s it,” Grace replied, copying the image and opening the folder. “Let’s finish this jigsaw.”
Emma leaned in particularly close as Grace manoeuvred the image onto its place in the opened folder, zooming in to make sure it clicked in perfectly. When she was satisfied, she zoomed out and sat back.
“And that, ladies, is our way out of here,” she announced.
The jigsaw was a simple puzzle, one made out of eight of the nine files Troian had gotten in to them. The pieces had been copied themselves and placed inside the folder before the chips from whence they came were destroyed; each piece was a square, and each piece showed part of the layout for Remy Hadley. The layout of the prison was shown on the map in bright red – but more importantly, what was underneath was there as well in blue.
Up in the mountains the prison may have been, but it still needed a sewage system – and it was the pipes that interested them. Long tunnels had been dug through the rocks when Remy Hadley was built, and like all tunnels they not only had to end somewhere but start somewhere; there were two ways in they’d had an eye on, one on the northeast and the other on the southwest. The southwest entrance was located in their cellblock towards the end, and that was the one they were going to use.
“My friend in the machine shop’ll get me what I’ll need to get in,” Megan told them. “We’ve all been there, right?”
They all nodded, as Emma and Shay studied the screen intently, paying close attention to the two green lines in amongst the blue signifying the pipes – as well as two ways in, there were also two ways out. One was for maintenance workers to go in, the other was… well, for the prison’s waste product to leave Remy Hadley and go on a long journey to the purifying plant at the base, in the form of a mountain river that none of them wanted to swim in. Climbing down would be, frankly, less gross. Also, the outlet had one advantage – it was nearer to the safest route down to the ground. This had been indicated on the ninth file, which had been the first one Troian had sent; that file had contained the topography of the mountain, and the route to take had been included.
As Rhona had told them, Emma was good at observing details – combined with Shay having the best memory of the lot what with her having had to impersonate a bank clerk, the two had been given the job of leading the gang through the tunnels.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just print the pieces off?” Blake had asked when Roselyn had made that decision.
“And risk them being found?” the leader had replied. “We know they can remember the details.”
Curiously, Blake hadn’t been so upset about wandering through shit to get out. None of them were.
Now the robbers watched Emma and Shay standing there, the latter with her eyes shut. She looked as if she was sleeping, but she was simply checking it over in her mind, going over each turn of both routes; she opened her eyes and looked at the screen once more.
“You set?” Emma asked.
“Follow The Leader’s a go,” Shay told her. “We could get out of here in the dark.”
“We ARE getting out of here in the dark,” Blake pointed out. “After 10, remember?”
“Very good, Blake,” Emma said sarcastically. “So that’s eight things you can keep in your head instead of seven.”
“Any idea about the weather?” Roselyn asked hastily before Blake could grab Emma.
“We might be in for a little storm,” Grace answered. “If we’re on the ground by then we’ll be fine, if we’re still climbing down when it hits…”
“A chance we gotta take,” Jaime said. “A little rain ain’t gonna put me off.”
“Let’s just hope that’s all we get,” Roselyn replied. “Better get out of here, and thanks again for Troian’s help.”
“Once this is wiped, I’m outta here,” Grace said lazily, starting to delete. “My Japanese schoolgirls won’t watch themselves.”
Blake rolled her eyes as she started to lock up.
“Us Italians are very hot-blooded,” Hayden cracked to Shay and Megan as they left for their cells. “But hey, if it gets too cold for me I’ll have seven hotties to warm me up.”
“Eight,” Shay corrected.
“Make that nine,” added Megan.
“Did I miss a memo here?” Shay asked.
“Apparently we both did,” Hayden said, raising an eyebrow.
* * * * * * * * * *
Another day dawned at Remy Hadley, the sun bringing his rays over the mountain ranges and the buildings intruding on them. And like most mornings in the cell Shay Mitchell and Blake Lively shared, Shay was awake before Blake, listening to the far-off sounds of birds and the far-closer sounds of Blake’s quiet breathing as she slumbered.
She looked at the small bundle that was lying next to her; her family had managed to get the odd bit of “home” comfort to her since being sent up, but like all the other members of the San Francisco Eight she had also gotten some letters of a more personal nature. Some of them were beseeching her to repent and reform (like she’d wanted to get involved with this in the first place), others were assuring her that she was going straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
And some were friendly. Very friendly. Very, very friendly. Like Leanna, the only one who Shay had actually written back to, and who had kept up the communications since then.
Shay smiled at her penpal’s nickname for her.
“You don’t know how angry I get every time I hear about what some of those people put you through. What did you do, really? Someone as sweet-tempered as you should be out running free like a bird. I just wish I could come and see you…”
Shay wished that Leanna could come as well, but while her family and friends knew she was corresponding with a prisoner they thought that HE was in a facility in Texas; they didn’t know and could never know what she was really doing.
“I had another dream about you the other night,” the letter continued. “You were on the beach with me and a couple of friends, running in the surf like you didn’t have a care in the world. You were wearing clothes for some reason, but I liked it because you didn’t have a bra on under your top – made it better when you pulled off the top and threw it away. I went and got your shirt before it could go in the sea and smelt it… even your sweat makes me hot.
“You dived in for a swim and came back out, all dripping wet and naked and beautiful and wonderful; then I stripped myself and kissed you. You tasted like strawberry chocolate, just like in your slot. You held in my arms and told me you loved me, and then you gave me a surprise!
“You had yourself a fish in your hands – a pretty big one. I didn’t know you were a Led Zeppelin fan :)…”
Shay looked a little puzzled, before she remembered. She knew where THIS was going. And liked it.
“It was quite a catch; you placed the head of the fish on my slot and I trembled when I felt it. You kissed me again as you pushed the fish into me, and I held you as it thrashed around inside. Screw PETA, this was the best… then you pulled it out, and gave it to me and I returned the favour. I loved seeing your gorgeous face gaping as you felt that thing inside you, wrigging and wiggling (almost as nice as how YOU wiggle, I bet!).”
“Thanks,” Shay couldn’t help saying out loud, and immediately hoped Blake hadn’t heard. Nope, up above the blonde still slept.
“Then I pulled the fish out, and I swallowed it whole. Feeling it slither down my throat and into my tummy – and it tasted even better after it was in you… I didn’t want to wake up, so it’s too bad my boy had to start up his bike and ruin everything. At least I can keep it ‘digesting’ forever and not… you know…”
Shay nodded. She knew.
“PS Hope the enclosed warms you up a little; these are a couple from the last time I was with my boy. Wish I could show this to you in person.”
The dusky young woman picked up the pictures that had been enclosed; one was of Leanna on her bed, wearing a bright smile and nothing else. The other had the beautiful redhead standing by her wardrobe, looking back over her shoulder in the same “costume.”
Studying the two snaps, Shay wished she was telepathic so she could send Leanna the message that the warming up was accomplished.
* * * * * * * * * *
Roselyn Sanchez had been called that in most of her pleasant dreams all the while she’d been detained in Remy Hadley, and they all dealt with Alicia Keys. Sometimes she was called that when she was awake, and sometimes it was by Alicia – but when it was at this time of the day, when almost no one else was awake, it was always by Zoe Kravitz.
Zoe had taken to getting out of her bunk and snuggling up with Roselyn ever since the time in the showers; she liked seeing in the sunrise with her arms around the woman. Sometimes she awoke so early the sun wasn’t even up yet, but this morning wasn’t one of them – the better for her to see the lovely, olive-skinned Roselyn Sanchez with. There was another reason she liked to get into her cellmate’s bunk; sometimes, probably when she was thinking about Alicia and got carried away, she fell asleep naked. Like last night.
Cuddling close to Roselyn, Zoe rested her head on the older woman’s breasts and treated herself to a close look at her right nipple. Not the biggest she’d ever seen, but they looked hard even when she was asleep, as if she was dreaming about Alicia. The young woman placed her rosy lips on Roselyn’s breast, gently suckling – oh, her kid (if it was her turn to carry the child the second time around) would be so lucky… Zoe felt a few tiny drops of milk seeping from Miss Sanchez, and sucked harder, wishing she had two heads so she could enjoy both at once.
“No,” Roselyn said gently, lifting away Zoe’s head. “Your breasts are more succulent than mine… let me have a taste.”
Zoe’s pussy flooded almost at once as Roselyn slipped down the bed a little, opening her eyes at last and facing the young girl’s gorgeous rack. Roselyn put one of Zoe’s nipples between her lips, sucking it slowly and tenderly and starting to milk the young woman. Zoe was so beautiful she had flirted with fitting her in with the group – but no; they had almost too many people as it was, and all of them had a reason to be there. If lust was the main reason for joining the escape they’d all have had hangers-on. (Well, maybe not Blake and Jaime.)
“Sing,” she whispered.
Sighing as Roselyn’s mouth kissed the soft flesh of her chest while her free hand fondled the other breast, Zoe quietly started to sing. It was a ditty Roselyn had asked her to sing the first time they’d made love; it was a gentle song, about happy times.
“Some people live for the fortune… some people live just for the fame… some people live for the power, yeah… some people live just to play the game…”
It was a song that Alicia liked to sing from time to time, one that always reminded Roselyn of her missing love. It was a song that Roselyn had never told Zoe the meaning behind, but which Miss Kravitz had suspected from the start. Still, she loved singing, and she loved pleasing Roselyn.
“…but I don’t want nothing at all if it ain’t you, baby… if I ain’t got you, baby…”
Drawing her lips away from Zoe’s tits, Roselyn began to gently lick more of her torso. Her body had the same kind of caramel coating Alicia had, and she was so warm… it was killing Roselyn that she didn’t have any instruments to use on her. She’d fisted Alicia once, but she’d never forgotten how she had unintentionally hurt her by pushing it in way too hard, and Roselyn had sworn she would never do that again. Kissing Zoe’s flat stomach, she cursed Jane and Cate for confiscating her stuff when her time in solitary had been up… if only it had been Scarlett the Harlot. At least she knew from experience she’d have gotten them back.
“Hand me the world on a silver platter, and what good would it be?… With no one to share, with no one who truly cares for me… some people want it all, but I don’t want nothing at all if it ain’t you, baby…”
As beautiful as Zoe Kravitz’s bushy little pussy was, Roselyn Sanchez could never go beyond licking the tiny cuntlips – slipping her tongue inside always, as in ALWAYS, broke the spell. The one time she had done it she had loved the taste of it on her tongue, tangy and sweet. But Zoe, as wonderful to eat as she was, didn’t taste like Alicia. And although she was good at giving head, Roselyn could never fool herself that Zoe’s tongue and Alicia’s moved the same way; Zoe tried her best and she’d made Roselyn come every time, but somehow Alicia always managed to find all her most sensitive areas, and no one had ever made her orgasm the way her baby could.
“…nothing in this whole wide world don’t mean a thing if I ain’t got you with me, baby.”
The song was finished, but the convicts weren’t. Still keeping her eyes closed, Roselyn kissed Zoe as they held each other tightly, Zoe clutching her and never wanting to let her go. The two quietly got out of the bunk onto the floor, embracing and fondling each other. Zoe kissed Roselyn’s shoulder before moving away from her, lying down beside her in the opposite direction. Glancing at her, Zoe was impressed at how Roselyn still kept her eyes closed as they took up positions; she was always more eager to do this than to be munched on (Zoe’s mouth watered at the thought of Roselyn’s box; she presumed her leg action was more like Alicia’s than the mouth, otherwise she’d have been eating her every night).
Roselyn’s lengthy left leg curled behind Zoe as the two made contact, their cunts becoming one and their breathing in rhythm with their bodies as they moved against each other. With every stroke Zoe sighed and shivered; Roselyn felt electric next to her, and their snatches together were like… like… like two things that really well together. She couldn’t resist stroking Roselyn’s back and asscheeks with her upraised leg, and the sensations between her legs jacked up several notches when Roselyn started returning the favour. The women moved against each other closer, actually feeling their clits touching now.
Roselyn’s little gasps soon became less little as she moved on; their mutual dampness was making Zoe start to cry louder as well, punctuated by a long moan as Roselyn’s big toe moved slowly along the cleft of her ass, slipping into the hole inside and wriggling just enough to excite her… if only she could do that. Damn her relatively short tootsies; she contented herself by fondling Roselyn’s ass and wishing that just once she could have Jaime’s forcefulness and take it… nah. That wasn’t Alicia’s way or Zoe’s.
Their cries went through most of the nearby cells, both women ignoring a disgruntled “Some of us want to sleep!” from lifer Susan Sarandon. Roselyn and Zoe gripped each other’s hands as the rubbing sped up, Zoe screaming as she felt her fluids blending with Roselyn’s.
“Don’t leave me…” Zoe said, lowering her voice in between gasps.
“You know I have to…” Roselyn replied.
“It’s just… it’s…. it’s… AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” Zoe forgot her burden for a second as Roselyn Sanchez’s Cuban-flavoured cunt did its work, burning her up and making her give one last loud wail as she orgasmed between Miss Sanchez’s legs. Roselyn kept thrusting her lovely body even as Zoe came down, as if she wanted more from the girl (not that she minded giving it), before she let the pace stop. The glowing young woman didn’t want to break up the act, but there was no way they could get another one in to their satisfaction before official waking up time; Zoe gently separated herself from Roselyn and turned around. Had the woman’s eyes been opened she’d have taken her time to let her have a good look at her naked body, but in this condition a little scuttle around on the floor would do.
“It’s just that I don’t know if I can stick it out around here without you,” Zoe whispered, her face near Roselyn’s.
“Hey, there are plenty of women here who’d love to take you in.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Horny Helen jumped on me last month, and I think she wants to try again. Her and some of her friends…”
“I got friends too,” Roselyn assured her. “I’m going to make sure they look out for you while you’re here. You’ve got what, six months left?”
“Not that long, and you’re a model prisoner. And I give you my word that once you’re out I’ll get word to you about where we are.”
“Sure. Joshua could use a babysitter,” she replied, adding “Hang in there, Alicia…” as Zoe giggled.
“Can you do me one little favour? Just to keep me going till I see you again… kiss me.”
Roselyn leant in close, and Zoe raised a finger.
“And don’t shut your eyes. I don’t want you to kiss ‘Alicia’ – I want you to kiss ME.”
Roselyn didn’t hesitate; finally opening her eyes, she kissed Zoe full on the mouth while looking at her all the while.
“See you on the outside, Zoe,” she said quietly. No more games.
* * * * * * * * * *
Hot, sweaty and very, very loud. It was just another day for Jaime Pressly and Megan Fox in the machine shop, home of some of the finest license plates produced in the continental USA. And occasionally a bit of device fixing, for the jobs too big or motor-inclined for Grace.
In her corner of the shop, Jaime set down her soldering gun and lifted the goggles from her face, giving the onceover to what she’d been working on since day one whenever no one was watching. It wasn’t the smoothest, but it wasn’t for pleasure – especially with the blade on the end.
“Perfect,” she said to herself with a satisfied nod, wrapping it in some cloths.
Megan kept stamping the plates out on the other side, glancing up occasionally to the man working the machine next to her. In between imprinted pieces of metal, she gave him a smile and a wink.
The man returned the smile, handing her some more cloths; she accepted the small package and slipped it into her uniform, her smile getting a little bigger on feeling the tools in her pocket.
* * * * * * * * *
Today wasn’t Jennifer Lawrence’s birthday, but she felt like she was getting presents galore. First of all, Denise Welch had been put in solitary for starting a fight with Kim Kardashian, so she had the place all to herself.
Second, at this point in time she didn’t have the place to herself – she was being pressed against the bars of the cell by Grace Park, the perpetually horny geek tasting Jennifer’s tender breasts and spreading her fingers into the girl’s box; if the San Francisco Eight had been a club this could count as a breaking in. Jennifer had her arms around Grace, really wanting to fling her to the ground and have a munch, but her lips felt too good for that to happen. Too bad Grace couldn’t have brought along Lauren German, but these cells weren’t made for threeways.
Grace felt the only way Jennifer’s jugs could make this better was if she’d just given birth – new mother’s milk was unbeatable. Still, she wasn’t complaining with what she was sucking now; she moved back to check them out. Jennifer’s breasts looked even better with a little glistening of Grace’s saliva on the nipples, and knowing she kept up her braless habits in prison made Grace jealous (she liked to go commando as well, but having less to hide meant less to tease with).
To the delight of a couple of prisoners on the other side of the level who were enjoying the show, they could see Jennifer’s long, naked body up against the bars, with one of said bars resting right on her asscleft so that the buns on either side were going through the barspaces, Had Grace been slamming any harder it would have left several deep impressions, not that Jennifer would have minded. In any case, Grace’s lips and body were moving down the girl, stopping when they got to her blonde thatch.
“So you couldn’t be bothered to get it dyed?” she asked Jennifer.
“Actually, I did,” the girl admitted. “I just didn’t get it done again before I wound up here.”
“You can’t get anyone in your family to get you any?”
“I don’t get visitors,” Jennifer said, forgetting naked Grace Park for a moment. “My folks disowned me after the guilty verdict.”
“Man, you got the worst hand of the game… but I got connections,” Grace grinned, stroking Jennifer’s silky pussy hairs. “Garnier or Clairol?”
“Herbal Essences, thank you very much,” Jennifer laughed, and grabbed Grace’s head. “Now shut up and eat me.”
“Your wish is my command… front or back?”
“Back. It’s been a while.”
“I can’t believe no one’s eaten that sweet ass in days…” Grace rolled her eyes as the curvy young woman moved around and waved to the two cons watching, accidentally (apparently) standing so that her pussy wasn’t blocked by any of the bars.
Grace’s arm curled around Jennifer’s waist, and pulled her backwards and down onto the floor; Grace then greeted the girl with a kiss. “They’ve had their fun, now it’s my turn. You can go on top if you want.”
“I was planning to,” Jennifer cackled as Grace turned herself around, legs spread in the best men’s magazine fashion with front and back doors both visible. Suspecting the two cons on the other side were still watching – which they were – Jennifer got up and slowly walked around to Grace’s head, letting the two see her from top to toe.
“She’ll be mine,” first convict Eva Green declared.
“Dream on,” second convict Brooklyn Decker replied.
Unaware of the prisoners fighting for her favour, Jennifer gently lay down on top of Grace, her eyes seeking out and finding the hacker’s rear entrance. Her tongue wasn’t as fast as Grace’s, who was furrowing inside Jennifer in seconds; each one had a back door that was all nice and soft and puckery, and while Jennifer’s had more… um… padding around it than Grace’s, what the latter had was fun to feel.
They were lost in each other’s rumps, each with their lips kissing the tight holes in the brief moments their tongues weren’t probing them – Jennifer loved to eat ass, boy or girl alike. And Grace’s little butt was soooo nice; her tongue kept widening the hole, and she wished she had herself some kind of synthetic dick to seal the deal. Underneath her body Jennifer felt Grace quivering as she enjoyed what she had, and Jennifer let herself smile…
Jennifer raised her head to get a brief gasp of air, and then almost lost her appetite at what she saw. There on the other side of the bars, watching them with thin lips, was Cate the Straight.
“How can you do that?” the Australian asked, one hand near her nightstick.
“It’s pretty easy,” Jennifer replied casually. “You should try it sometime with your husband.”
“Not in a million years, Lawrence,” said the guard as Grace peered round her fleshy female lover.
“Enjoying the view, Blanchett?” Grace cackled, pointing to Miss Lawrence as she moved out from under her. “This here is what’s known as an amazing body; you probably don’t know what it’s like to touch one.”
“Or have one,” Jennifer laughed, as Cate’s eyes narrowed to nearly-shut status.
“Get some clothes on, sluts,” the guard hissed and walked off. Grace and Jennifer peered after her.
“Cute ass – too bad she’s tight EVERYWHERE, know what I mean? Not like Gemma. Or you,” Grace added, slapping Jennifer’s full and round cheeks.
“Or Blake,” Jennifer added, kissing Grace’s rock-hard nipples. “I checked her out in the gym yesterday.”
“Colour me surprised. But you’re never going to do more than look, Jenny.”
“I can’t even get to the shower the same time as her,” the girl grumbled.
“Neither can I. At least I got her pictures to remember her by…”
“Whoa – she did nude shots?!”
“Cellphone pics from some guy she hooked up with; he stuck them online on one of those ‘look at my hot girlfriend’ sites. Too bad she was asleep instead of really posing – her body rates a whole damn spread instead of blurry pixels.”
“You’re telling me…”
“Think you could let me take a few snaps?” Grace asked.
“Well, you’d be my first… girl,” Jennifer replied, playing with her breasts. “I’ve done the boyfriend thing as well.”
“Oh, I almost forgot… can you meet us in the library later on?”
“Me, Roselyn, Emma… the whole gang. After lunch yesterday we let them know about you – most of them,” Grace added, not forgetting how embarrassed Shay had looked when she realised she’d forgotten to tell Hayden. “We all agreed you should be part of it.”
“Part of what?” Jennifer asked, interest peaking.
“Not here. Tell you later,” Grace said as she started calculating how long it would take for her to get her iPhone and get back here – once she picked up where they left off. “You’ll love it, don’t worry. Now where were we….?”
She spread open Jennifer’s legs and dived right in; the girl was loving it already.
* * * * * * * * *
Pete was a good driver; his parents could be proud of him for that at least.
Even though his eyes were watching the road around him, his mind was back at the prison – he was thinking about Blake. For once it wasn’t about her lips tenderly sucking him, but about the message she’d given him… to get hold of transport for a friend of theirs. Apparently she was a single mum who’d been good to Blake and her friends in prison, and they wanted her to be able to pick the whole family up.
Which was why he was motoring the Ford E-Series van through northeast Sacramento, heading for a particular street corner; traffic wasn’t too bad this afternoon, mercifully. Pete had a nervous moment when he thought someone would get into that spot before he could slip the van in, but his luck held; the young man parked it securely, and climbed out. As he really was a good driver, he didn’t leave the scene without putting some coins in the meter; Blake had whispered to him in between kisses that three hours worth should be enough.
The young man headed away, allowing thoughts of Blake Lively to fill his head and hoping and dreaming he might be able to see her again some day. And if not, he’d always have the memories of the woman who saved him from dying a virgin…
About three hours later, a bus pulled up by a stop two blocks away and let out four passengers. Two headed for a shop, the third sat to wait for the friend he was supposed to meet up with, and the fourth started to walk down the street; the passenger stopped by the van, took out the skeleton key she had with her and opened the door with it, noting when she entered and sat down that Pete had left the keys for the van by the pedals instead of leaving them in the ignition as a come-on for thieves.
Rachel Bilson picked up the keys, started up the van and drove off just as the meter ran out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Though one of the better prison libraries around, it still wasn’t noted for its air conditioning. But even if it had been going full blast, Jennifer Lawrence felt she’d still have broken into a sweat as soon as she entered that afternoon.
Hail, hail, the gang was all there. Jaime Pressly was standing by a shelf selecting books and doodling in them, probably drawing moustaches on the pictures inside (with a pen, yet). Blake Lively and Shay Mitchell were at a table playing cards – not for money or cigarettes (anyway, neither of them smoked); it looked more like Go Fish. Emma Roberts was logging in a few returns behind the desk and trying hard to look intimidatingly at Jaime in mid-vandalising. A few feet away, Grace Park was having an animated discussion with Hayden Panettiere about whether Nickelodeon or Disney had the cutest girls (Hayden was a Mouse girl, Grace was all Nick-Nick-Nick-Nick Ni-Nick-Nick-Nick). Megan Fox was sitting by herself, popping back M&Ms by the handful.
And Roselyn Sanchez was standing near the door, in discussion with… wait a minute, that black-haired girl with a few blonde roots looked familiar. Jennifer had seen her around the prison, of course, but there was something about her – not just the eyes…
“Hey, teammate!” Megan called, seeing Jennifer. “Welcome to the club.”
The others all turned to greet her, setting aside what they were doing and coming up to her. “So you’ve been screwed along with us, huh?” Emma said, with a rueful grin. “Woman’s got long tentacles.”
“That she does,” the beautiful black-haired girl with Roselyn agreed.
“She’s probably got more people around here,” Grace added.
“But no more hitchhikers, right?” Hayden asked, eyeing Jennifer. “Not that I mind the company…”
“You’re such a slut,” Blake said, rolling her eyes.
“Ain’t we all, sweetass?” Jaime cackled.
“We could ‘use the company’ for something else, anyway,” Megan pointed out. “The more distractions the better.”
“So we’re just here for our bodies?” Jennifer asked the tattooed brunette, mock-offended.
“I don’t know if the two of you’ve ever met,” the leader added, turning to the blackhaired girl as Jennifer began to shake hands and exchange howdys. “Jennifer, this is Olivia Wilde; Olivia, meet Jennifer Lawrence—“
“Wait a minute… we HAVE met,” the latter interrupted, her eyes widening. Olivia had also started with recognition; everything had clicked right into place the second they looked at each other.
“Well, duh!” Grace said. “Remy Hadley’s not the size of Texas and you’re in the same block…”
“No, before that,” Olivia said slowly. “This girl’s part of the reason why I’m here.”
Jennifer yanked her hand back from Olivia’s sharply. “I did NOT take that money, Baby Blue Eyes! And if you think I did—“
“I KNOW you didn’t!” the ex-bank employee snapped, making Jennifer go from angry to glad to surprised in the space of a few seconds. Everyone else had their eyes on Olivia, as she composed herself – she hadn’t meant to get angry at her, because they were all in the same boat here.
“So who did?” Jennifer asked.
“I don’t know who exactly, but I think I know who was behind it. Didn’t Megan tell you?”
“I told Roselyn,” the Fox replied. “We both agreed the rest of us should hear it from you.”
Olivia nodded. “After you told me about that mistake in your account, I started to dig around and I had a word with one of my co-workers, a friend of mine. The son of a bitch was called Riley…”
* * * * * * * * * *
The son of a bitch was, at that time, more than just a friend.
Olivia wasn’t a member of the mile high club yet; she’d settled for the several hundred feet club, in this case Riley’s eleventh floor apartment. She’d warmed to him in the months since he’d joined Global Financial; he was the perfect man – the mind of an accountant inside the body of a “Freshmen” model (she loved to read gay porn mags, because all the men were hot and she could imagine she was the only woman they’d want to… um… give a try). Riley had a smile on his face that was pitched perfectly between delight and smugness, in part because of the size of his cock and in part because two stunning women were licking either side of it – Olivia on the left, and Jill Roberts on the right. Olivia’s tongue was moving up, Jill’s going down along the sacs.
Jill was one of Riley’s ladyfriends, or so he claimed; Olivia suspected she hadn’t been his “ladyfriend” for very long, judging from the way she was now playing with his balls in her mouth. Still, as Olivia crested Riley’s erection and circled it with her tongue, she wasn’t that bothered. Her mouth closed around his dick as she started to swallow it, slurping down and secretly hoping he’d be impressed at how she could fit it all in. (Olivia was herself pretty impressed by how much she had to fit in.)
Riley had his hands busy rubbing Olivia’s rump and Jill’s head thanks to how they were positioned; Jill had a lovely bubble butt on her, but Olivia’s tight little seat wasn’t exactly a pain to fondle either. The redheaded Roberts reached up and rested her hand on the buttcheek Riley wasn’t stroking, releasing his balls from her mouth and turning her attention to Olivia. His smile jacked up the delight several notches as he watched Jill kiss the brunette’s lovely erect nipples.
Olivia stopped sucking Riley’s cock long enough to turn to Jill and kiss her; their tongues went into each other’s mouths, both women looking as if they were liking how his dick tasted. Olivia cupped one of Jill’s bouncy funbags, impressed at what her surgeon had done.
“Please sir,” Jill said to Riley in an embarrassing English accent, “I want some more.”
“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Olivia laughed as she got ready to move up Riley. “And don’t worry, once we get the condoms on you’ll get to put that big slab of yours up me.”
Riley made a face.
“They’re flavoured this time.”
The smile returned as Olivia’s long body slid up him while Jill went back down to have his cock all to herself. If Jill’s strawberry coloured nipples were the best part of her body, Olivia Wilde’s pussy was probably the best part of *hers*; he couldn’t wait to slip his tongue into that hot little slit. Perfectly synced, Jill closed her mouth around his rod just as his mouth kissed Olivia’s box; some women he had been were gorgeous but had snatches Oscar the Grouch would have felt needed a clean, others had been a little plain but were as well cared for below as a country garden. But this one… exquisite.
Up on his shoulders, Olivia gasped as she felt his tongue licking her slowly; she could have felt him tasting her all night, but she knew that it wouldn’t last long – she could already feel him starting to speed up as the tip of his tongue touched her clit. Whenever a guy giving her head was getting head, it always meant he’d lose it; he was grunting into her cunt right now, all thanks to the human vacuum cleaner between his legs, gulping away and sucking every single inch of what he had.
Olivia howled as his tongue hit her button, each little flick he gave it with the tip sending thrills through her body. It moved around her box like a snake, leaving her with pleasure instead of poison; she could feel herself starting to cream, her legs not exactly kicking but definitely touching Jill’s grinding shoulders. Her gasps began to get louder as she felt herself losing it, feeling his fingers digging into her asscleft, the one that she was hoping his cock would be going into later on.
Maybe it was the thought of having Riley inside her that did it, but Olivia’s cunt sent all the shockwaves through her body at that time, making her scream in delight as she dug her own fingers into him, her head thrown back and looking up at the ceiling as she came on top of him.
Riley himself began to grunt/shout between her legs; Jill was drinking all the cum that was rushing out of him, her mouth wrapped so tightly around his cock that not one single drop of it was wasted. She sucked and swallowed him until the man was spent, and even then she only let it out of her mouth with what seemed to be reluctance – but if the shaking Olivia, catching her breath, could have seen Jill’s expression as she looked up and took in what she could see between Miss Wilde’s legs, she’d have known Jill was just readying for the next course.
“Mind if I join in?”
Olivia rapidly looked over her shoulder, Riley peeked around her side, and Jill quickly glanced towards where the voice came from.
The English accented voice, far more convincing than Jill’s, came from the doorway in which a beautiful Rosie Huntington-Whiteley calmly looked at the three naked lovers. The three naked lovers looked back at her as Olivia moved down off the man less coolly than she’d have liked.
“Rosie?!?” Riley shouted.
Olivia glanced at him as he mouthed “Girlfriend.”
“He’s your guy?!” she yelled at the blonde. “But I thought—“
“I don’t believe it… I was coming! You should’ve waited for me!” Rosie laughed.
The relief on Riley’s face was nothing next to that on Jill’s. As for Olivia, what the heck – it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done girl on girl on girl. And this girl… great lips, tight trim body… could be fun.
“Can I ask you a little question before playtime?” Rosie asked.
“Sure,” Jill breathed.
“I meant the girl with the blue eyes,” Rosie corrected, looking at Olivia. “Do you like boys or girls?”
“Honestly,” Olivia said with a grin as she took Riley’s stiffening rod in hand, “boys. Always boys.”
“YES!” the English blonde laughed, giving the ménage a trois a thumbs-up as she brought her other hand out from behind the door frame and blew Jill’s cheerful head right off.
The girl’s corpse splattered over the bed, leaving some blood on Riley as a shocked scream went through the room even after the three gunshots had faded; the shattered Olivia jerked backwards onto the floor away from the gruesome scene, staring at what had been alive a few seconds ago. And at what was left of Jill’s face.
“WHAA?!?! WHADAHELL!!? YOU FUCKING KILLED HER!!!!” Olivia wailed, flinging her eyes towards Riley. “SHE FUCKING KILLED HER!!! SHE….”
Then she noticed that she was the only one in the room who seemed shocked by this. Riley was glancing at the dead girl as if she was a week-old newspaper before walking away from the bed, and the girl in the doorway with the gun in her hand was smiling at her almost pityingly. But maybe he was affected after all – he was walking a little unsteadily, bumping into the table…
“Right answer, sweetie,” the blonde told her. “You ready?”
By the time Olivia realised the last two words were directed at Riley, Rosie had let off three more shots. The first bullet missed him and left its mark in the wall, the second winged his right arm, but the third shot went right into his leg, leaving some more blood to add to what was in the room as the man kept moving.
And Riley hadn’t made more than a grunt, as if he was… prepared for it. Olivia looked in shock at the other two, trying not to let her eyes go over to the poor girl on the bed and wondering what she’d gotten herself into.
“What a beautiful man,” Rosie said to Olivia casually. “I am SO glad you said you like boys – wasn’t looking forward to killing him. Rise and shine,” she continued, pointing the gun at her as Riley stumbled out. “Time for a bathroom break.”
“I’d love to play with you like I did with Jill, but I’m not allowed. Let’s go.”
The dazed brunette walked into the bathroom, Rosie walking behind her.
“I like your bum, by the way,” the English woman said casually, patting it. “It’s beautiful. Almost as nice as my baby Rhona’s… too bad I can’t get to play with it.”
“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Olivia muttered.
“No blood anywhere on you either – perfect.”
“But… but what did I…”
“It’s not me, honest,” Rosie said. “You were asking too many questions at work, and my girl Rhona doesn’t like it. Can’t kill you, though – gets even more questions…”
“About what? What did I…”
“That big ‘deposit’ someone made? You told Riley, Riley told me, I told Rhona. Want to play a game?”
That last request threw Olivia off as Rosie indicated the bathroom cabinet.
“Play a… game? What the hell…”
“Open the door and see all the people,” Rosie giggled, the unshaking gun on her convincing Olivia rushing her wouldn’t work. With her hand shaking, the woman opened the cabinet door to be greeted with the usual – mouthwash, toothpaste… and pills. Several bottles of pills, at least two shelves worth.
“Now Rhona wants you to take your medicine like a good girl,” the English blonde told her.
“No…” Olivia whispered. This wasn’t happening.
“Go on, you’ll be okay,” Rosie assured her, raising the gun to Olivia’s eyeline. “Take the medicine, doesn’t matter which ones – it’s all good…”
Now trembling, Olivia picked up a container – she didn’t know or care which one – ripped off the top and poured out a handful while Rosie, still with the gun trained on her, took the glass normally used for post-teeth-cleaning rinsing and put it under the tap, turning it and filling it with water all while watching the other woman. Olivia looked at the pills, trying to will fate to change this; then she saw Rosie standing there, gun in one hand and glass of water in the other.
Olivia threw the pills into her mouth, crunching them and grimacing as she took the water, only then noticing that Rosie was wearing latex gloves. The blonde eyed her almost tenderly as Olivia swallowed the pills, gagging at the bitter taste and wishing she could puke them up, but just praying that it would be quick.
They were down inside her now; she watched the gun. Maybe if she tried, she actually could bring them up – if she could get it on this blonde maybe it might shake her a bit, and then…
Too late. Olivia felt herself starting to lose the support of her legs as the drugs suffused her system, Rosie watching her all the time. “…Why?…” she asked, seeing the blonde start to move closer.
“The way my girl Rhona has it, you killed Jill out there,” Rosie said airily as Olivia wavered and took a stumbling step towards her. “Mad because he was carrying on with her behind your back…”
“Riley and I aren’t…”
“That’s not what he’s telling the police,” Rosie interrupted with a laugh. “And the two of you did go out for drinks a couple of times, all friendly and everything… anyway, what did Roni say? Oh yeah – you blew Jill’s brains out and tried to kill Riley, but then you couldn’t finish the job and came in here to try and kill yourself.”
“With an empty gun…?”
“Pulled the trigger, found you lost count,” the blonde told her as Olivia slowly sank to the tiles, trying to keep this sick blonde in focus. “So you tried to OD, and that’s how the cops found you.”
“The cops….?” Olivia moaned, struggling to stay awake as Rosie gently put the gun in her right hand.
“Oh, yeah – Riley called the police once he got shot. I always forget something.”
“No one saw me coming in, and no one’ll see me out,” Rosie assured her. “Shame we never got to bed – I could have had some fun with you. You’ve got a great body, Olivia. They’ll love it in prison.”
Rosie backing out of the bathroom and closing the door was the last thing Olivia saw before the blackness got her.
* * * * * * * * *
“The next thing I knew I was in hospital with a stomach pump and the police outside,” Olivia finished. “I told them what happened, and none of them believed me… I guess I wouldn’t have believed it either if I’d been in their shoes.”
“And this was all from my account?” Jennifer asked slowly. This was looking like deeper shit than she’d thought.
“You know what made it worse?” Olivia continued bitterly. “Rosie was there. Right there at the trial.”
The others goggled, gaped and whistled depending on who they were. “She plugs someone and she’s there in the audience?” an impressed Jaime asked. “Girl must have balls the size of Canada.”
“Rosie wasn’t in the audience,” Olivia said. “She was in the STAND.”
“Wait… WHAT?!” Megan shouted. “They called her up…”
“As a witness for the prosecution, yeah – sat right there and lied her heart out. She even said I liked making crap up to look good sometimes. I heard the lawyers tried to get her to wear something that didn’t end at her labia – it didn’t work. I guess the male jurors got swayed by what she was showing.”
“At least you HAD some,” Blake muttered.
Roselyn nodded sourly; it hadn’t escaped their notice that the jury that convicted them was made up of nine women and three men. At least two of whom were gay.
Olivia had to clench her fists at the memory; Rosie sitting there as cute as a button and almost as deep, telling the lawyers how Olivia had been close to “her boy” Riley and insanely jealous of anyone who got near him, not long after Riley had been spouting similar lies himself. With the real murderer in the dock it was “Legally Blonde” or an episode of “Perry Mason” for real, except that there was no tripping up by the witness, no brilliant(ish) lawyer to seize on the mistake like a hungry dog grabbing a bone, no tearful confession. Olivia had had to sit there and watch her come out with more crap than the entire Western USA sewage system, and even when Olivia had tried to pin Rosie down at the scene she’d discovered that the stinking English rose had been right – no one had seen her come in, or go out.
“And this Rosie Huntington-Whatever works for Rhona?” Hayden asked.
“Based on what she said about my ass and Rhona’s, probably more than ‘works.’ “
“So maybe we try and have a word with her once we’re outta here,” Jaime added. “Find her, find Rhona… I got my ways. Long time since I fucked a Brit. One that didn’t look like a damn iguana.”
Emma, who knew exactly who Jaime was talking about, shuddered at the memory of Horny Helen.
“It’s going to take more than sex to break her,” Olivia told her.
“Yeah, right,” Jaime replied.
“Jaime, the girl killed someone she didn’t even know like she was cleaning off makeup! Think a hard fuck could break someone like that? Someone like YOU?“ Grace pointed out.
“And anyway,” Olivia added, “when we find the whore, she’s mine.”
“Can I get sharesies?” Jennifer asked.
“Sure, why not? You can sit on her while I kick her head in…”
“Before you do that, we’ll need you to chip in on distraction duty,” Roselyn told them. “Nobody rides for free on this train.”
“You mean this truck, or whatever the guy scrounges up for us,” Megan replied. “Hope it’s bigger than what Rhona saddled us with…”
“What guy?” Olivia asked.
“That was my job,” Blake said with a smile. “I sweettalked one of the boys who’s in love with me… we chose him because he lives in Sacramento. Practically right next door.”
“It’ll be waiting for us when we get down the mountain,” Roselyn continued. “Shay and Emma committed the way out of here to memory, so they’ll be leading us.”
“You couldn’t have gotten the plans in here,” Olivia pointed out.
“We didn’t. You can thank the pride of Channel 7 here,” Grace grinned, indicating Hayden.
“The EX-pride,” the ex-reporter corrected ruefully.
“Actually, it was her girlfriend who kicked it all off,” Blake continued, looking at Hayden with something almost like pride.
“She researched the layout of Remy Hadley and the geography,” Roselyn continued, “and each time she visited Hayden she brought another piece of the puzzle.”
“How’d she…OHHH,” Jennifer’s question was answered by Hayden pointing to her pussy.
“You want to be inspired? Try seeing your girlfriend get a life sentence for being mixed up with us PLUS fifteen years for ‘robbing’ Torcoletti’s and ‘beating up Ashley Benson,’” Emma added sympathetically; they all had sentences for their other crimes running consecutively instead of concurrently with the big one, and whether it was online fraud (Grace), the odd bit of underage sex (Blake, even though the guys had all consented), car theft (Megan) or outright murder (Jaime), life plus whatever was still too long.
“The plans also show where the cameras are,” Roselyn continued, trying to forget all the years the courts had tacked onto HER life sentence. “And that’s where Grace comes in. She’s got an in with the guards—“
“And vice versa,” Jaime cackled.
“—and on her last tech visit she ran a little system check,” Roselyn continued to continue. “That check put a little countermand into the systems so when the other cells automatically lock at 10 tonight, ours won’t. It’s also going to black out the cameras on our route, but we still need free access to get from one area to another… Emma?”
The safecracker patted her shirt pocket. “One genuine authorized Remy Hadley keycard, taken from the warden through Buttcrack Express. It’ll get us to the exit, and to the other way out if we need it.”
“What other way?” Olivia asked.
“We’re getting out through the sewers,” Megan explained. “Maintenance left two ways in; one of them is WAAAAY on the other side, near the gym. But the other one is right here in our block, and it’s also a lot closer to where all the shit comes out.”
“And if any shit comes down…” Jaime grinned. “I got that.”
“We probably all will,” Jennifer agreed. “Especially if we meet Kristen Stewart on the way.”
“I don’t think that’ll happen, but noted,” Roselyn said. “Did you get the things from the machine shop, Megan?”
“Uh-huh. A couple of cutters, a few screwdrivers… nothing big, but they’ll do the job. He said it was worth it.” Megan smiled at Olivia, who almost smiled back.
“And thanks to Shay here, we’ve got a place lined up for when we get back to San Francisco,” Roselyn continued. “It won’t be the Ritz but it’ll be home until this is over. But you’ve still got a job to do – you, Olivia and Jennifer will have to set up a little distraction to keep the guards in our section busy,” Roselyn replied.
“I can just guess what kind that’ll be,” the family criminal sighed.
“Oh, like you don’t want it,” Grace laughed.
“Let’s just hope none of the guys are on duty tonight,” Shay added.
“Speak for yourself,” Olivia replied. “You might have to take one for the team.”
“So all goes well, we get in the tunnels and out of here before 11,” Roselyn finished. “Now all of you get out of here and try to get some rest.”
“Yes, mommy,” Emma said cutely, turning to leave.
“Oh, and Blake?” Jennifer said casually, inwardly biting the bullet at what she was about to say.
“That’s my name,” replied the tall blonde.
“Grace was right – you should do some more nude shots. Seriously, cellphone pics when you’re sleeping do NOT do that body justice.”
Blake stared at Jennifer, thunderstruck, before her gaze started to drift around the gang as the other ladies eyed her like they’d gotten early birthday presents.
“Ooh, spread-shots?” Hayden asked with a giggle.
“Should’ve known you’d do that,” Megan chuckled.
“Now why didn’t I think a’ that?” cackled Jaime.
“You never told us you had naked pictures out there,” Emma added with a smile as Blake’s eyes went from one member to the next, wishing she could just crawl off somewhere.
“You’re right…” the blonde said quietly, as she turned away.
And sharply backhanded Grace across her mouth, sending the computer queen tumbling to the floor hard amidst surprised gasps from the others. With a piercing yell as she landed, Grace brought a hand to her mouth as the blonde stood over her, eyes blazing.
“…I never told ANY of you about them!” Blake added, her chest heaving in anger. “You got something to say to us, Grace?”
“What brought that on, Boobs?” Jaime asked, secretly impressed that Blake had brought out a little blood on Grace’s lips. “She try to feel you up in the showers again?”
“I’ll tell you what brought that on,” Blake snapped, facing the shocked faces of the other women. “Those pictures were taken by some guy I met last year… I didn’t even know about them at first because he posed me when I was asleep – but until today I thought there were only three people who knew about them. Me, the guy who took them… and the reason we’re all here tonight.”
She then glared down at Grace. “When Rhona picked me up she showed me those pictures – she said it was her brother who took them on his phone, and that’s how they tracked me down. You were the only one of us who told Jennifer about them, and you said they were cellphone pictures. And you said I was SLEEPING.”
Slowly, every other woman in the room turned to look at Grace, still on the floor.
“You heard her,” the usually gentle Shay said in a tone none of the others had heard from her before. “You got something to say to us?”
“Oh crap…” the hacker said quietly.
“BESIDES that!” shouted Jaime.
“Hey, come on…” Grace said nervously as she started to get up. “You’re not really gonna take the word of this damn breeder, are—“
Grace suddenly found herself coming up a lot faster than she’d planned, helped along by Roselyn grabbing her shirt and hauling her up, whirling her around and slamming her against the shelves, shooting sudden pain through her spine – though it made her feel better than what she saw in the leader’s eyes as Roselyn held her there.
“If it weren’t for a ‘damn breeder’ you wouldn’t be here today. And my GIRLFRIEND is the MOTHER of my SON, you lying little tramp,” she hissed. “My son who I WILL be seeing again, no thanks to you. If you *ever* call Blake or *anyone* that name again, I swear I’ll—“
“ROSELYN!” Megan shouted.
The leader glared at the shaking, sweating Grace before loosening her hold a little. “There’s one of you, and nine of us. If you want to get out of this room alive, talk.”
“Rhona was never going to show up the day after the job,” the hacker began, avoiding the other eyes. “We were all supposed to get caught from the start. Even me.”
“Why?” asked Olivia.
“Because a couple of years ago I did something stupid; doesn’t matter what it was – just that it was stupid enough that I could have gotten killed for it. Rhona found out, and told me if I started working for her she’d take care of it. I did, and she did. Come this job she told me she’d get me out of here after six months or so; get moved to a country club prison somewhere for good behaviour, maybe even break me out. “
“But we split up,” Blake pointed out. “How could she have known we’d still all be caught?”
“Oh, she knew. Just before she assembled us she gave me…” Grace then gave Emma a pleading look and mouthed “I’m sorry.”
“Go on,” Emma said flatly.
“Rhona gave me some tracers so her people all over the state could keep track of you. After I ate you out,” she continued, looking at Emma again, “I put them in the bags you put the take in when you split it up… once we left I told Rhona which of us were heading where, so if the cops hadn’t found you in about three days or whatever they were going to get a little tip as to where you might be. The cops had Blake’s face from some security camera, and that Puritan who saw Shay ratted her out, so they only needed the tracer on…”
“So THAT’S how they found us after we dumped the ride!” Jaime snarled. “Fucking Judas!”
“And then the Hand of Rhona was getting you out and leaving us here to rot?” Megan asked. “I’m sorry, Hayden…”
“What for?” asked the small blonde.
“For not letting you shoot her back then.”
“She’s probably got the warden wrapped around her finger too,” Jennifer muttered.
“Her or that guard she’s always fucking,” Hayden added. “Probably told her everything…”
“No, I didn’t!” Grace pleaded, seeing the others start to crowd around her. “None of them know, honest! The timer I put in to keep the locks open is still on the system – we can still do this!”
“Wrong,” Roselyn said coldly. “WE can still do this.”
Grace’s eyes went from one ice-cold female expression to the next; until now she had never imagined that any of them besides Jaime Pressly was capable of killing. But now all of them – even Emma, even that midget reporter, and even Blake – they all had the look she’d seen on her ex-boss’s face the night she’d done “something stupid.” She had barely escaped that night, and that had been out in the open.
“Just… just make it quick,” she found herself saying in a fearful, trembling voice.
“You don’t get a last request,” Roselyn replied, and the group fell on Grace.
* * * * * * * * *
One hour later, the library was deserted. The still form of Grace Park lay by the shelves; her uniform had been torn apart around her cut and bruised body. She had been kicked, scratched and even bitten, and her face was decorated with an eye which wouldn’t be open for the next few days. But it WOULD open.
As she slowly stirred, starting to get to her feet and gather what was left of her clothing, she winced – just the tiniest movements hurt, but she could deal with the pain. There was only one thought on her mind… she had to find Gossip Girl.
Or rather, who GG would be with.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was coming towards the end of their shift. Cate Blanchett clomped into the locker room, exhausted, pissed off but glad she’d be able to head home soon. She kicked off her shoes and started to peel off her sweaty guard uniform; she was always glad to leave this at Remy Hadley.
Scarlett Johansson stood by her locker, having come in just after the older guard.
“Is this important?”
“Actually, it is,” the pouty young woman replied, walking towards her. “Why do you give the prisoners such a hard time? Even the ones who stay out of trouble?”
“Honestly want to know?”
Cate sighed. “I just don’t understand these women. All their feelings, their desires…”
“They’re convicts, they have urges,” Scarlett pointed out. “What’s to understand? You’ve worked in prisons before this. It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“All right, I admit it. I hate these women so much because… because sometimes I dream about them.”
“You do?” asked Scarlett.
“Yes. And not the kind of dreams I used to have – about catching them breaking out and bringing them back,” Cate continued. “Other ones. Steamier ones. And last week I was in here with that new girl, Wossy-something…”
“That’s the one. She was changing into her uniform and I just couldn’t stop looking at her legs.” Cate shook her head to try and clear it of the memory. “I feel so impure… like there’s something in me I have to cut out…”
“Shhhh, Cate,” Scarlett said, patting her shoulder. “It’s okay – no one’s going to tell on you here. Actually, as long as we’re confessing things I’ve always liked her myself.”
“Yes, but you like women anyway-”
“I’ve always liked YOU, Cate,” the young guard interrupted. “And if you want someone to… to let it out on – you know, someone who you can be yourself with, I’m here. No questions asked, no judgements. Just let yourself be you – you know you want it. You wouldn’t be at Remy Hadley if you didn’t want it. Deep down you’ve always wanted a woman… and you’ve always wanted that woman to be me.”
Cate’s finely chiseled face softened as much as it could as Scarlett’s words hit home. The girl was right; all the bravado, all the steely ice-cold glares… it was all an act. As the willowy Australian reflected on what had been said, she felt the cushion-lipped guard’s hands flying around her body and shedding her clothes as she stood there unresisting. Not that she would have.
For each piece of Cate’s clothing Scarlett pulled off, she took off one of her own until the two guards faced each other in nothing but underwear. Scarlett hid the instinctive satisfied smirk she always put on whenever she was wearing a bra around women who, like Cate, were less well endowed.
“Can I keep these on?” the Australian asked. “I’m still not really…”
“It’s okay,” Scarlett assured her, taking her few remaining pieces of attire off. “I’ve got enough for the both of us – see? Nothing to worry about… I’m just like you underneath.”
“Except maybe a little younger,” Nina Agdal giggled at the side.
“NINA!!!” the two guards snapped, the mood temporarily broken.
“Sorry, sorry,” the blonde convict said to Scarlett Johansson and Cate Blanchett in the open-plan locker room. VERY open-plan, in fact, due to it being outside in a far corner of Remy Hadley’s playing field; Nina eyed the guards, hoping her little interruption hadn’t ruined the afternoon.
“We told you before, you can watch but you can’t talk,” Scarlett, who looked remarkably like Hayden Panettiere, said to her.
“Just for that you don’t get to join in this time,” Cate, or as she was better known Emma Roberts, added with her Australian accent taking a breather.
“Fuck.” Nina’s disappointment was defused by the sight of Emma’s slim, sexy body in practical underwear; Emma having a small rack and Hayden having more in the way of booty meant the roles cast themselves. Too bad that the rules of the game meant Emma/Cate couldn’t be naked yet; she had to be more relaxed around women in this situation.
“Shhhh,” Hayden/Scarlett said to the older one – older in this scenario, anyway. “We’ll ease you in gently. If it helps, you can shut your eyes and pretend I’ve got a really, really small penis.”
“No guy smells that good,” Emma/Cate pointed out. “And your body’s too smooth.”
Hayden/Scarlett leaned in close and gently kissed Emma/Cate’s lips. “Do I kiss like a man?”
“I’ve had worse,” she admitted, as Emma reminded herself she was Cate Blanchett, the guard who was sick at the thought of kissing girls; not Emma Roberts, the prisoner who wanted to tongue-fuck Hayden Panettiere’s asshole until Prohibition came back.
“Remember when you were at Josephson’s? All those guys? You must have had dreams about some of them, and some of them had to be… a little girlish,” Hayden/Scarlett continued. “Picture yourself with one of them, and then picture yourself with…”
“I never liked the ones who looked like girls,” Emma/Cate admitted. “I like boys who look like boys – but I can try…”
Closing her eyes, Emma/Cate kissed the part of Hayden/Scarlett’s neck where it joined her shoulders, blessing the day they’d started to play this game. It had been after the first meeting in the library; talk had gotten around to the guards, and Emma and Hayden had ranked which ones (girls only, duh) they’d bang if things were different. Both ranked Jane Lynch right at the bottom, with Jessica Alba taking home the gold for Hayden and Hilary Duff winning for Emma.
“You know who I’d go for after Jessica, though?” Hayden had added.
“Meryl Streep?” Emma had asked.
“Already did her,” the blonde had laughed. “Not bad for an older woman. But I was thinking… Cate the Straight.”
“BLANCHETT?!? Are you high or nuts?”
“I know she’s sharp-faced, but she hasn’t got a bad shape on her. Surprisingly sexy legs too… be fun to fuck the hate out of her.”
“Please,” Emma had said with eyes rolling. “Even Blake isn’t as bad as her.”
“No harm in playing,” Hayden had pointed out. “You could be Cate, and I could be…”
That time, Emma had been Hilary Duff. Each time out “Cate” had been “turned” by a different guard – one time it had even been a guy – and now, it was “Scarlett Johansson” who got to be with the Aussie. Emma/Cate gingerly wrapped her arms around Hayden/Scarlett, picturing her breasts as biceps, but Hayden’s lips were way too soft to pass for a man’s, and as for her chest…
Hayden/Scarlett moved her fingers between Emma/Cate’s thighs, finding her silky pussy. The fingertips slowly, tenderly touched her lips there with the middle finger sliding in between, moving up her. The two tentatively, but in Emma/Cate’s case more eagerly, kissed; the latter’s lips initiated the next kiss on feeling the blonde’s fingers between her thighs. They weren’t rushing the job, but with each touch her snatch was getting moister; Emma/Cate had never been touched like this before – only by herself, occasionally. And even then it was never like this…
Slowly, like venturing onto unexplored territory, she lowered her head and placed her mouth around Hayden/Scarlett’s pouty left nipple, licking it and loving each tiny little freckle around the tip. Her first boyfriend had been almost as tender, but something about this girl made her feel as if she was missing something. Emma/Cate kissed the flesh around the nipple, telling herself this was a one-time-only thing… but also telling herself she wanted Hayden/Scarlett’s mouth where her fingers were.
Oh YES….! The blonde was a mind reader; gently removing Emma/Cate’s head from her chest, Hayden/Scarlett slid down the woman’s slim, heaving body, giving pleasure on the way with well-practised ease; within seconds Emma/Cate’s glistening snatch was in front of her, waiting and begging to be tasted. The blonde’s tongue moved along the opening, teasing it a little before going inside – experience taught her you couldn’t convert them the first time, but you could put them off it for good if you went wrong. And this one was so fine Hayden/Scarlett wasn’t about to let her down.
Even though Nina had been told not to, she knelt down and gave Hayden’s bobbing booty a kiss before moving around to Emma and planting her lips between the safecracker’s jugs. Wishing the breakout was the next day so she could enjoy Emma Roberts’s succulent little rack one more time, Nina went back to being a spectator, marvelling at how her interruption hadn’t broken either one’s concentration.
Emma/Cate looked up into the skies, her body heaving as she began to gasp under her lover’s mouth. It was true… it was all true… she had simply never found the right woman until now. Hayden/Scarlett’s tongue was taking her places she’d never been before – there were still some things only a man could give her, but not that many. The blonde’s hands stroking her thighs were just adding to her delight, making her feel sorry for the times she’d scorned all those women in their cells. Feeling the rushes of heat and ecstasy shooting all through her body, Emma/Cate screamed out the fellow guard’s name as she shuddered under the blonde’s lips and fingers, begging her not to stop – she wanted her to keep on just doing this forever…
For her part, Hayden/Scarlett’s pussy was dripping the way it always was when she tasted a beautiful woman who wasn’t about to go down on her in return; she was aching for some relief, but those were the rules of the game. The blonde licked Emma/Cate’s own warm, steaming cunt one last time before kissing it farewell – it was too lovely to leave, but duty called.
“Now was that so bad?” Hayden/Scarlett asked, resting her head against one of her friend’s thighs.
“No… not at all,” Emma/Cate replied, fondling the blonde tresses with one hand and the long, smoothly-planed item she called a nightstick lying next to her with the other.
“I can think of something better for you to do with that big stick of yours,” Hayden/Scarlett added, sliding up the fantasy guard’s willowy body.
“Not up my bum, please,” Emma/Cate said. “I’m not ready for it there yet.”
“The customer’s always right,” Hayden/Scarlett smiled, spreading her fingers between Emma/Cate’s legs again. “Give it here and lie back… you’re wet again already,” she added with a laugh.
Taking the stick and straddling the supine woman, neither of them – nor Nina – realised Leighton Meester had been watching them from a few feet away, taking it all in; what road accidents were to other people, sex was to the milk-skinned fake brunette. Leighton wouldn’t have minded getting that from either of them herself; she was enjoying watching Hayden/Scarlett sink the stick into Emma/Cate as much as Nina.
Smiling to herself as Emma/Cate moaned in happiness with the length sliding into her, she moved on; she had an appointment to keep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Of all the prisoners in Remy Hadley, Gemma Arterton’s favourite by miles was Leighton Meester. This was partly because being a pale, long-legged brunette, Gemma matched her; and partly because whenever they met up, she always had something to say. Gemma usually had to do the work whenever the two hooked up in the daytimes, and it always had to be in Leighton’s cell – but it was worth it.
“Alexandra Chando’s been passing around the herb again,” Leighton told the guard airily, as if Gemma wasn’t licking the inside of her thigh. “The stuff her boyfriend sneaks in to her and she won’t let you guys have.”
“Share and share alike in this place,” the guard tut-tutted.
“And Alice Greczyn’s planning on not coming back when she and Nicole Anderson are on work release next week.”
“How come Anderson’s not in on it?”
“She is – wow, that’s good,” Leighton assured Gemma as the guard gave her exposed clit a little flick. “But Nikki’s got some weird plan to suck all the guards’s cocks before she’s out of here. She’s a good girl.”
Guard and prisoner had to laugh at that.
“You know what I saw on the way in? Hayden Pantyline giving Eric Roberts’s little girl head.”
“And I want to know that why?”
“They were playing at being Scarlett the Harlot and Cate the Straight,” Leighton chuckled, patting Gemma’s head. “She’d have a whole HERD if she knew that.”
“Yeah, right; like Johansson would ever turn down pussy. Oh yeah… Sarah Hyland’s got a couple of hand-made shivs in her cell; they’re for Blanchett. Think you could give the pleasure palace a go now?”
“Someone always wants to kill Cate the Straight around here,” Gemma replied. “What’s Hyland’s excuse?”
“She was Summer Glau’s cellmate and sub,” Leighton explained. “And when she… HOLY FUCK!!!””
Gemma’s mouth stopped short on its journey between Leighton’s leg and her cunt. She knew it hadn’t been anything she’d done – no one was THAT good – and she could hear someone breathing behind them. Wondering what was up, the guard snapped her round and her eyes widened.
“I knew I’d find you with her, GG. Regular as clockwork,” Grace Park said through her swollen, bleeding lips before she sat down in relief, partly because she was exhausted and partly because no one else was around. Normally Leighton’s perky unclothed rack would have been a plus, but this time sex was the last thing on her mind.
“We have to talk,” she said to Gemma. “It’s happening. Tonight.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Lockdown minus ten minutes.
Olivia Wilde had the bottom bunk to herself, with Taylor Momsen fast asleep on the top. Actually, she wasn’t so much “fast asleep” as “unconscious” – Olivia had kept her cellmate out of the loop on this because she suspected that come blastoff Taylor would decide to join them, so fifteen minutes before she’d suggested a little light bondage; a few ties to the bunkbed and one well-aimed fist later Taylor had gone beddy-byes. Now all Olivia had to do was wait…
Jennifer Lawrence had the whole cell to herself, as Grace was in the infirmary; although she hadn’t been involved with the gang from the beginning, she had weighed in with the attack as much as the rest of them. Considering how in all the press coverage of the trial no one had turned up any nude pictures of Blake, not even the prosecuting attorney, she should have known Grace was lying; and she had actually liked Grace Park, which made it worse. (And given she’d outed herself as a heterophobe, it might not have been Jennifer’s imagination that Blake Lively and Olivia Wilde had punched and kicked Grace the hardest.) Still, as she looked at the ceiling she had nothing else to do but try and forget about it, and wait…
Right on the dot at 10, the lights on the locks of the cells went from green to red; the inmates would be kept in there until 6 the next morning. Roselyn Sanchez and Zoe Kravitz watched the red light on their cell’s lock, and waited.
“How long is it supposed to be again?” Zoe asked.
“I think it’s about-“ Roselyn started, and that was when the cell lock went to green.
“Go,” Zoe said softly, kissing Roselyn one last time and settling back into her bunk. “Don’t worry, I know what to do…”
Roselyn opened her door, beginning the exodus – and the whistles and demands to be let out from the other prisoners and angry queries about why they hadn’t been included; “Maybe next time!” she called out to Dianna Agron, wishing she was as lucky as Blake. She was already on the ground floor…
“You sure you want to do this?” Blake asked Shay as she slid the door of their cell back.
“Absolutely not,” the dusky woman replied. “Just call it taking one for the team.”
“I could do it…”
“You already did your part,” Shay pointed out. “Just go…”
“Try not to think about it,” Blake told her reassuringly, before she strode out and ignored the wolf-whistles as she started the long walk to their destination, glad she was on the ground level – it wouldn’t take her as long to get there as the others.
“Still wanna suck on those tits, girl!” Sarah Jessica Parker cackled as Blake passed, and cursed her bad luck that the blonde was out of groping reach…
“Don’t forget what we talked about, okay?” Emma asked Nina as she stood in the cellway on the first level.
“Like I ever would,” Nina replied. “If this lands me in solitary it’ll be worth it. Don’t get caught again, Emma…”
“You got your set?” Megan asked Hayden.
“You know it. Let’s do this thing,” the blonde replied, before the two fist-bumped and stepped out onto the walkway.
Megan stopped outside Jane’s cell; the redhead and the brunette exchanged glances, Jane wishing she could be going with them, Megan wishing she could bring her…
“Don’t let ‘em get you,” Jane said, giving Megan’s hand a squeeze.
“Look me up when you’re out,” the driver replied. “Soon, right?”
Jane just nodded as she felt the hand of her cellmate on her shoulder. Megan smiled and moved away so she and Christina Aguilera could pretend they hadn’t noticed anything.
* * * * * * * * * *
Vance had been snapped out of his waiting for 10:30 and signing out time reverie on hearing the chatter and whistles from down the row; it wasn’t the first time there had been talking after lights out, but it was usually pillow talk – and it sounded like it was getting louder.
Well, he’d soon put a stop to that… keeping a grip on his nightstick, he walked towards the kissing noises and catcalls – not that he had to walk far, faced as he soon was by Shay Mitchell.
“Hi, Vance!” she called cheerfully. “I really gotta go baaad… seriously, I can’t hold it…”
“Back in the cell, Miss… and how’d you get out anyway-“
“Listen,” Shay interrupted, standing right next to the guard. “I’ve got great bladder control but it isn’t going to go on forever… can’t you just take me to the little girl’s room? You can watch if you want.”
“I don’t get off on that,” Vance told her, looking right into her eyes. Her beautiful, dark eyes… just like almonds… Vance tried to keep his mind on work, and his eyes from moving down to the open top of her uniform.
“Well, what DO you get off on?” Shay asked coyly, tracing a finger down his hard front. “You want to be my first?”
“First cock,” she replied.
Vance’s mind took itself to the canteen; the day the guards had gathered when the San Francisco Eight had come in, and they’d all taken bets on who’d get to fuck which ones. Each guard had picked three names to try and score with, and much mocking had come Vance’s way when he’d drawn Hayden, Shay and Jaime… but now he finally had a shot at scoring with one. And such a sexy one as well – unlike Hayden she had never had a conjugal visit, and even though he knew she was getting plenty of action among the prison population she was probably curious about penis.
And now here was Shay Mitchell sliding her right hand down his trousers; her beautiful face lit up when she found what was inside. Her fingers began stroking his package, his smile cracking larger as he rested a hand on her side, slipping it under her shirt and mentally whooping when the fingers found her lovely left breast. Brad would be so jealous when he told him about this – too bad he’d had to sign out early.
Shay tilted her head back a little, letting him kiss her on the lips as he kept exploring her chest while she returned the favour, both ignoring the calls from the other prisoners. “These could use some air,” she told him, lifting her shirt over her head.
Vance’s eyes were glued to her gorgeous breasts, the brown nipples hypnotising him; his hands roaming her body, he kissed each one as Shay held his head closer to her chest, the better for him not to see or hear a gorgeous moled blonde slinking past the two of them. Vance’s vision was full of nothing but incredibly perfect coffee-coloured skin; he eagerly fondled Shay’s rack before he placed his hand between her legs, wondering if he might…
“No, not tonight,” Shay told him gently, clutching him tighter. “And that’s only for girls.”
Vance’s hands spread around back, moving up beneath the lower part of her prison duds and finding her silky cheeks, working his fingers up her cleft.
“Now THAT can be unisex,” she added with a laugh. Best to leave him with something to hope for, after all. “But first…”
Shay slowly unbuckled the guard’s pants, while Vance resisted the temptation to help her out in that department; his cock was begging to go inside her somewhere – maybe not the pussy, but the mouth, the asshole, even the nostrils would do. As she went onto her knees, she pulled down his zipper and Vance’s ego swelled a bit when a few of the prisoners whistled at what they saw.
“Put that thing up ME instead!” yelled Lea Michele. “She can’t appreciate what she’s got there…”
Shay stroked Vance’s erection, licking it gingerly; it wasn’t actually her FIRST cock, but it had been the first time she’d been around one since the time back in high school when she still thought she was straight, when she’d made out with Tony Pearce and they’d had “Troy” on in the background. Tony had accused her of thinking about Joe Ryan while they’d fucked, because he had a feeling she wasn’t really into him. She’d confessed, and she’d never seen him again out of school hours – but she’d really been thinking about Joe’s girlfriend, and how she looked exactly like Diane Kruger. Fucking Hollywood – all those semi-naked guys and only one shadowed shot of Diane’s ass, but Shay had extrapolated that to the one Joe’s girlfriend had… and it was all systems go from there.
Now she put herself back in the game, and started to take Vance’s plumhead and the shaft behind it between her lips. Very fleshy and veiny, she wasn’t used to having something alive poking through her mouth; Shay swallowed and gulped in quick bursts of air as she felt it moving inside her, wishing she could pretend it was Emma or maybe Jennifer wielding a dildo – but it wasn’t hard enough. And even though she was surprising herself at how much of his cock she could fit in, with the tip of it practically tickling the opening of her throat and his balls touching her chin, Shay was almost hoping she was making him miserable…
FUCK. His hands were stroking her hair in a manner that showed he liked it, and he was begging her to keep it up, telling her she was wasted on women, she was a natural… and now he was grunting, holding her hair harder as Shay felt that sticky stuff pumping out of him, flooding her mouth. She gagged when the stuff hit her, but she forced herself to swallow some of it as she kept sucking, consuming the prick until Vance had drained himself into her with a final satisfied sigh.
Shay looked up at him shyly, like a harem girl, still stroking his cock. “Want seconds?” she whispered.
Vance nodded, and Shay closed her lips around his shaft.
And then her teeth.
Not since he’d sprained his foot jumping out of bed one morning had Vance screamed so loudly – the poor man dropped to the ground holding his aching crotch and hoping she hadn’t bitten through the flesh. The agony was sharp but it was shortlived, thanks to Shay quickly pulling out his nightstick and bringing it down on the back of his head. She relaxed as the screaming stopped, but she still checked to see he had a pulse – she’d hit him hard, but she didn’t want to hit him THAT hard.
Relieved to find he was just out cold, Shay got up and spat out the unswallowed majority of Vance’s semen.
“I don’t know how Blake can stand that,” she muttered as she left the area, ignoring Lea and Kate Hudson’s shouts to drag him a little closer so they could have a go. Damn, she could have used some mouthwash… but at least Vance had one big long hard thing that would be useful – she still had his nightstick.
* * * * * * * * *
Jaime, like Olivia and Jennifer, didn’t have anyone to talk to; ever since her time in solitary she had been by herself. Just Jaime and her thoughts, which had been focused on nothing but getting out; as the light changed to green, she shoved the door aside and headed out, hoping that some of the guards still on duty would get in her way – she was begging to leave them some souvenirs.
From above she could hear the sounds of confusion, anger and what sounded like a mix of her two favourite things – sex and violence. From below, some way in front of her, she saw a familiar blonde figure heading for the way out, and closer to her the bare ass of the guard for that section with someone kneeling down in front of him.
“Good girl,” Jaime smiled to herself, and started to follow.
* * * * * * * * * *
In the ten minutes leading up to the doors being locked and unlocked all had been peace and quiet in that section. But the way Grace had told it, her little gift to the system had included instructions to not only record the last ten minutes but also to immediately play it back on the security screens on a loop lasting from 10pm until around 1am, so any of the humans covering the section would see closed jail cells, slumbering convicts and quiet walkways.
As opposed to Scarlett Johansson getting quintuple-teamed.
“All right, ladies, just get back inside,” she told them amiably as soon as the doors started to open. “It’s just a technical glitch… do it for Scarlett, come on.”
“You seriously think that’ll work?” Jennifer Lawrence laughed.
“Well, it was worth a try. I just think we could maybe nip this in the bud without anyone getting hurt. I’m with Chuck Norris – don’t fight unless I have to…”
From behind, a long pair of arms wrapped themselves around Scarlett’s torso while Nina Agdal, the owner of said arms, kissed Scarlett’s neck.
“We don’t want any trouble either – we just want to have a little fun before lights out.”
“You want me to get fired?” the throaty blonde asked, trying not to giggle as Nina cupped one of her breasts.
“Get fired for helping to stop a mass breakout by the power of what you’ve got under your uniform?” Jennifer pouted. “That’ll happen. Besides,” she continued as she moved right next to Scarlett, “you promised if I was good I could have some fun with you.”
“If you were GOOD,” Scarlett pointed out.
“Oh, she’s good,” Nina assured her, kissing the guard again as Jennifer took Scarlett’s cheeks – face variety – in her hands.
“Well… just ten minutes,” Scarlett said before hers and Jennifer’s lips fused. As their tongues intertwined, the guard reflected on her excellent personal hygiene – not all the prisoners bothered to use mouthwash… she clasped her hand to the back of Jennifer’s head, gripping her to enjoy the kiss more.
Scarlett felt a little shiver through her body as Nina’s hands searched along her bra, looking for the clasp – either that or she was enjoying a few more feels. Scarlett kissed Jennifer again as the convict in front of her undid the buttons on her uniform, exposing more of the guard’s warm flesh until the buttons were all gone. Instinctively, Scarlett shrugged out of the top and felt it be pulled off her torso, smiling at the whistles on seeing her red bra revealed.
“It’s on the back, silly!” giggled someone who wasn’t Nina, as a couple of fingers touched Scarlett’s bra clasp, and just like THAT it was off, letting her chest bombs swing free. Eyes lighting up like it was her birthday, Jennifer gave each generously-filled jug several licks, somehow managing to keep from getting in the way of Nina’s fingers. And those of Emma Roberts, bra-remover extraordinaire.
“Hey, why should we have all the fun?” Jennifer laughed.
“Yeah, why should YOU have all the fun?” Chrissy Teigen (solicitation) shouted from her cell. “Give a girl a break, huh?”
Paying her no mind, Jennifer ripped the top of her uniform and shoved Scarlett’s head in between her own newly exposed rack. The guard couldn’t keep herself from licking what little free space there was between Jennifer’s breasts; nuzzling and tasting, she felt herself being spurred along by Nina and Emma continuing to stroke and squeeze what Scarlett had, and couldn’t see Nina tapping her cellmate’s shoulder and pointing down.
Behind her, Emma looked down and joined Nina in looking at Scarlett’s curvy rump, encased in that damnable but snug prison legwear. The cellmates rested one hand each on the top of Scarlett’s pants, their fingertips under the edge.
“One…” Nina chuckled.
“Two…” Emma added.
“THREE!” With all the dexterity of David Copperfield and none of the lounge-lizardness, the two young prisoners swiftly yanked down Scarlett Johansson’s trousers and the accompanying underwear, baring plenty of round sweet behind. Knowing neither of them could afford to mess around, Emma and Nina dropped to their knees and gave each of Scarlett’s cheeks a kiss and a nip. Emma rolled her eyes when she saw Nina burying her face inside the guard’s crack – she knew they had to move fast, but a butt like Scarlett’s deserved a little time before the main event…
“Can you spread your legs a little there?”
By now more in the spirit of things than the Johansson of even ten minutes ago could have imagined, Scarlett instinctively began to try and widen her stance while tasting Jennifer’s plump right breast.
“They meant me,” Jennifer said, already with her feet a little apart.
“Huh?” Scarlett asked, taking a little look down.
And spotting that there was a gap between the guard and convict, filled by Megan Fox and Hayden Panettiere; Megan was caressing one of Scarlett’s thighs and kissing the flesh thereon, while Hayden was gently running her fingertips through the blonde bush around Scarlett’s tasty-looking pussy. She licked her lips as she remembered the last time she’d macked on the guard, and how jealous Megan had looked when she’d bragged about it after lights out.
“You’re in for a treat,” Hayden told her cellmate as she moved in, her lips touching Scarlett’s box while Megan got in closer.
“Team effort? Why the hell not,” the brunette laughed.
“Doesn’t she EVER shave?!” Cheryl Cole cackled, resigning herself to having a ringside seat checking out Scarlett’s undergrowth.
“At least she douches, douche!” Hayden shot back. “You should try it sometime, you stinking Scouser!”
“She isn’t from Liverpool, you ignorant Yank – try up North,” her cellmate Tulisa Contostavlos replied. “It’s called an atlas…”
“Book with lots of pictures and almost no words? Yeah, that’s your speed…”
“SHUT UP!!!” Megan interrupted, and pushed Hayden’s face into Scarlett’s crotch, moving her head slightly so the two didn’t crack together. The thought “Two great tastes that go well together” went through both their minds when their tongues met inside the guard’s box; they rolled together and probed a little deeper, both glad that they were inside something that could stretch, before carefully negotiating away from each other.
This was something else you could never pull off with a man until guys evolved another cock, Megan thought; it was damn tight for sure, but Scarlett’s box had such a great taste – and Hayden was right, she DID clean this. Very well indeed; whoever her man was, he was one lucky bastard. Megan’s tongue still kept brushing Hayden’s, but what was better than being with one sexy blondes? Yep, two sexy blondes. Megan couldn’t help feeling envious of Scarlett as she tasted her button while opposite her Hayden’s tongue lightly traversed each of the guard’s fat pussy lips.
That would have been enough to send Scarlett soaring, but now Jennifer was rubbing her rack against the guard’s while she stroked the prisoner, hoping she’d get more time to taste those glasscutting nipples of hers. Giving Jennifer’s buttcheeks a good squeeze, she was forgetting more and more about her job, helped along by Emma’s fingers on her legs (“I never did thank you for showing us these our first night,” the safecracker breathed in between kisses on the thighs. “Really got me through”). Nina, meanwhile, seemed to have almost as much of an unquenchable passion for her back passage as Vance did; her fingers were everywhere and her lips and tongue were going so deep it wasn’t inconceivable she and either Megan or Hayden might wind up meeting somewhere inside.
As for Scarlett, the hand that wasn’t fondling Jennifer’s behind was going through her crotch, now thoroughly soaking her fingertips. The moans from guard and convict in between kisses were getting to Hayden, who glanced behind her to get a close-up shot of Miss Lawrence’s snatch. Maybe if she was really quick she could have a munch on Jen before…
“Hayd?” Megan asked.
“You go on ahead, I got this,” Megan said in between licks. “Look up Jenny when she gets out.”
Hayden pouted, but she knew Megan had a point. Sidling out, she paused just long enough to give a) one of Scarlett’s buns a lingering kiss and b) Cole and Contostavlos the finger before she slipped away.
The other women’s mouths were so busy that Scarlett didn’t even notice Hayden was gone; she was too busy squooshing her chest against Jennifer’s and trying to give Megan’s head a rub with her Jennifer Lawrence’s pussy-flavoured fingers. And there was Emma Roberts, no longer fondling her legs but settling for just licking them slowly… mainly because Emma’s fingers were otherwise occupied. Not with Nina, still happily tongue-fucking Scarlett’s ass, but with the pants around her ankles and the holstered gun and extra rounds of bullets that the safecracker was carefully taking out from the belt and placing inside her uniform, all still with plenty of creamy Johansson skin in her field of vision.
“Almost time,” she whispered to Nina, who somehow managed to pull off a pout with her mouth on top of Scarlett’s back door.
“You girls really know how to suck up…” Scarlett husked in delight, her body heaving further under their assault. She started to kiss her way down Jennifer’s form – screw the rules, she was getting some of that moist muff before they all went back inside. The heat coming from between her legs as Megan kept supping was the second to last thing she’d feel for the next ten minutes.
Emma hitting Scarlett on the back of her head with her own nightstick was the LAST thing she’d feel for the next ten minutes. Without making a sound, she slumped forward as Jennifer caught her, holding her steady before she landed on Megan and leaving four convicts with a naked and very limp prison guard.
“Wow, no one’s ever done that when they kissed me before,” Jennifer chuckled as Megan scrambled out from between them. Ignoring the calls from Cheryl, Tulisa and the others to bring Scarlett over to them so they could have some fun, the escapees tenderly laid the guard onto the ground, face up with the uniform underneath her. Each one then gave Miss Johansson’s breasts a kiss, mainly because they wanted to.
“C’mon – Blake and Shay probably made it to the gates by now…” Megan said briskly.
“Can I have the nightstick, please?” Nina begged.
“Good thing you didn’t ask for the gun,” Emma said, handing it over and kissing her cellmate one last time. “Play nice now.”
“Don’t I always?” the slim blonde laughed. “Now get out of here!”
“Take me with you!” Nicole Polizzi begged from a few doors down.
“NO!” Megan, Emma and Jennifer shouted as one, and made tracks.
“Don’t worry, ladies,” Nina assured her as she rolled Scarlett over, pleased that she hadn’t been on her back long enough for the iron grilled walkway to leave indentations. “Just means I get more time with this sweet little thing.”
Knowing the other convicts were watching, she slowly slipped one end of the stick into her snatch, revolving it inside for a few minutes till it was nicely lubed up; then she knelt down with her knees on either side of Scarlett’s legs, and prepared to slide it deep inside the supine guard’s rump – she knew from experience that Scarlett, bless her, didn’t mind such things from time to time. And if she didn’t take too long…
“Past your bedtime, Agdal?”
Nina’s stick dropped onto Scarlett’s bouncing booty on hearing fellow guard Sarah Wayne Callies’s voice.
* * * * * * * * *
Brad was almost sorry Jase wasn’t there now. The guy had clocked out to get some rest before the lucky, lucky sumbitch went on holiday, and so he was curled up in his nice warm bachelor pad while Brad had to wrestle with convicts taking advantage of what was probably a few crossed wires in the system to get out of their cells (and where were they thinking of going?).
And now he was overwhelmed. OVERWHELMED. He had Olivia Wilde pinning his top half and Zoe Kravitz trapping him below; Zoe was consuming his cock, gobbling it like a woman possessed. The cheers of the watching prisoners (and the grunts and angry wails as Jessica Simpson and Ashlee Simpson tried to open their cell doors – “Come on, dammit, you did it for them!”) seemed to be spurring them on as he shoved his tongue deeper inside Olivia, licking and tasting her. Combined with Zoe’s heated sucking, he was having a tough time deciding what was better.
Thrashing about over him, Olivia didn’t let Brad’s roaming fingers and hyperactive mouth distract her from spotting Roselyn watching and leaning in.
And sending him to the Land of Nod with a well-placed blow from his own stick, abruptly cutting off the tongue action between Olivia’s stems.
“You couldn’t have waited?!” she grumbled, getting off him and straightening her uniform out. “I wasn’t finished yet!”
“Put the energy into running!” Roselyn told her.
Giving Zoe (still swallowing the unconscious guard’s cock) one last look, Olivia and Roselyn raced for the stairway.
* * * * * * * * * *
Once Grace had spilled her guts to Gemma, they – and Leighton – had headed for the warden’s office immediately, only for Maggie to tell them Warden Winslet would be in meetings for the next few hours. Seeing the knowing grins that resulted, she’d immediately set them straight by adding they were actual work-related meetings – “Remy Hadley doesn’t run itself,” Maggie had pointed out. “This is a prison, not a porn flick.”
“I suppose it can’t be all work and no play,” Gemma had mused.
“You should be able to get in before going-home time… and what happened to you, Parky?”
“Can you PLEASE not call me that?” Grace had grumbled through her puffed lips.
“Seriously, what the hell happened to you? You look like that leggy spy on TV worked you over…what’s her name now?” Maggie had snapped her fingers to get the name. “…Sydney Bristow, that’s it! Get down to the infirmary and get yourself patched up; they’re so slow down there Winslet might be ready when you get back.”
Maggie had been half right; Dr. Ryan WAS slow taking care of Grace, cleaning out her wounds and putting on stitches, and marvelling that for all the bruises on her sides from where she’d been kicked her ribs hadn’t been broken. But in spite of the time he spent tending to Miss Park, the warden was still detained when Grace and Gemma returned – once all the news of the day had been relayed, Leighton had been returned to the cell she shared with no one. At last the warden’s door had opened and Maggie had beckoned them inside.
“Now,” snapped Kate, “what is so important that it can’t wait until-“
“My friends are busting out tonight,” Grace interrupted.
That was all it took. Kate nodded once, and pressed Maggie’s intercom key.
“Maggie, call Ben and tell him we have a situation here, and that I don’t know when I’ll be home. And then get Blanchett in here.”
“Fuck,” Gemma thought. Head guard Cate Blanchett may have been, but she didn’t like having to spend time with her any more than the prisoners did.
“Since you brought Grace to me, you get to hear this first before Cate the Straight tells the others,” the warden continued. “No one is signing out until this is under control.”
“Fuck,” Gemma actually said this time in a low voice. This *would* have to happen the night she had a date.
“Pardon?” Kate asked.
* * * * * * * * * *
Stage one of the journey had ended for Blake Lively; the catcalls and reaching hands were done, and she was the first member of the San Francisco Eight (ten, whatever) to arrive.
As the team members closest to the area, Blake and Shay had been given the keycard to open the way for the others; she swiped it through the lock, and placing the small bundle she’d brought with her to keep it open for the others, she entered the deserted section of the prison – which, though deserted, was an area she knew well. But as she took the last few steps, it was still a surprise to her that she’d actually come to the way out before without knowing it. She’d come IN here before as well, several times.
Cell 3849, Block D. Alyssa’s Place.
All the while she’d been banging the guards, the exit had been right under her; once the news had broken, each time she or any of the other ladies had been in here they’d surreptitiously made the key stones in the floor a little looser, whether scratching with fingernails or discreetly hidden blades, nails, whatever. Thank goodness it wouldn’t have to be too wide… and that they were loose enough for them to be comparatively quickly dug loose.
Thinking over how the path to freedom had been right under their noses, Blake looked around the spacious cell and whistled as she bent down to where the hole they (well, mainly Megan) would have to make was.
“Took the words right outta my mouth, Blake.”
It wasn’t hearing Jaime Pressly’s voice behind her that startled Blake as she turned and faced the newcomer; it was what she said as she studied the other blonde.
“How about that – I got me the winning ticket and no sharesies,” Jaime continued.
“Wait… ‘Blake’? Not ‘Boobs Leggerson’? No ‘Legs McBlondie’? What brought this on?” Blake asked. She hadn’t called her “Blake” since the day of the robbery, and now this. And what did she mean, winning ticket…?
“Jim Cooper,” Jaime said lazily. “Terry Lee. Chyler Leigh. Kelly Brook… you never forget your first.”
“Jim – first boy I ever fucked. Terry – first boy I ever fucked in front of his own wife. Chyler – my first girl. Kelly – first girl I ever did in the butt. I got all manner of firsts…”
Blake started to edge around towards the exit; she wasn’t liking how this was sounding.
“One first I ain’t never done, though; just never found the right one till your sweet ass came along,” Jaime said breezily, and entered the cell, locking the door behind her with a well-deployed hairpin before the other blonde could get any further. “Remember when the boss lady picked us up ‘fore the meet?”
“Not her. THE boss lady. Saw you sitting in the back seat of Rhona’s ride, and I knew you were the one. Wanted to do this to you right there, right from the start.”
“What do you mean?” Blake asked softly, trying to hide her nervousness and not quite succeeding.
“Started making this my first day in machine shop, sexy,” Jaime added, reaching into her uniform. “Just for you.”
Blake watched as Jaime took out a device and tied the attached straps around her hips. It was a dildo, all right, but less smooth than the norm. A lot less smooth. And it was metallic rather than plastic.
And at the tip there was… there were… no. No. No, no, no, oh please NO.
“You ever see that comedy ‘Se7en’?” Jaime smiled, carefully touching the points of the three long serrated blades. “Always wanted to fuck a girl and watch her die at the same time.”
As Jaime started towards her, Blake was so lost for words that she couldn’t even scream.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Ah, that’s the stuff,” Grace said as the Coke seeped down her throat. “Could use some whisky in it or something though…”
“If this gets concluded satisfactorily we’ll see,” Kate replied.
“No alcohol for prisoners,” Cate Blanchett snapped.
“Ease up, Blanchett,” the warden tut-tutted. “She IS trying to keep a gang of killers from getting out. No wonder the other guards hate you,” she added (last seven words under her breath).
“But you’re part of them,” the Australian pointed out, turning her glare and cheekbones to the now-tended-to convict on the couch. “Why didn’t you go with them?”
“I’m not as bad as they are,” Grace replied. “I just wanted to hold my head down and do my time.”
“You were sentenced to life, Park. Plus 27 years for assorted other offences, I believe.”
“Prison can be a very comfortable life for some people,” Kate told the guard. “Just ask Gossip Girl.”
“Come again?” asked Cate.
The warden sighed. “Leighton Meester.”
“Anyway,” Grace continued, stretching out, “I told them I put a virus into the systems that would turn off all the cameras en route. But you know how it is, say one thing and do another…”
“I do know how it is,” Kate replied, smiling at Grace. “Why do you think I kept that keycard… not quite hidden enough?”
“What keycard?” asked a surprised Cate.
“I’ve known for some time that this escape was in the works,” the warden told the guard. “When I heard about some of the details I decided to… make it a little easier for them. Emma Roberts would never have been able to get a keycard to let them out if I hadn’t hidden it in plain sight, as it were.”
“WHAT?!” Cate spluttered. “Do you WANT these criminals to escape?”
“Barbara Cartland once said love scenes should go as far as the bedroom door but no further,” Kate explained. “I know what can happen if they’re allowed out, but I also want them to think they’ll make it; when Roselyn Sanchez and her crew believe they’re about to be free…”
The warden drew a finger across her throat.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Why are you doing this?” Blake begged as the other approached her.
“’Cause you’re hot and I want to,” Jaime hissed. “And when I’m through you get to be a double first – always wanted to fuck a dead girl…”
“No…” the tall blonde whimpered, backing away. Even though Jaime was smaller than Blake, she had the weapon on her side and no conscience at all. And she’d been wanting to do this from the moment they MET…? The woman wasn’t just a murderer and rapist, she was stone cold crazy.
“Yes.” And suddenly Jaime was gripping one of Blake’s arms tightly. Very tightly.
“Go ahead and scream all you want – we didn’t hear you all the other times the guards were in here banging your brains out. Ain’t that why they love it here?”
Blake cursed herself for knowing Jaime was right.
“Our team’s being held up by that orgy back there – we got plenty of time to finish this, honeybuns. On your knees.”
“But they’re gonna come here and—“
“See your hot li’l dead body? Sure they will. And that hole I’m gonna dig out when I’m done, and I’m gonna be down there,” Jaime added. “Think Jailbait and Brown Sugar are the only ones who got good memories? I’m getting outta here all by myself. Now ON YOUR KNEES… “
She wrenched Blake’s arm downward, the pain exploding through her. Blake winced, but her legs were buckling; trembling, she went down in front of Jaime until the tri-bladed device was in front of her eyes. Blake tried to convince herself this wasn’t happening, that it was all a dream, that maybe some of the guards had spotted her and were going to come to her rescue – even if the escape had to be aborted, at least she’d be alive.
“No one is coming to save you, whore,” Jaime said coldly. “That thing there is going in all your holes before we’re done – come on, I know you love sucking cock…”
“Jaime, please… I can’t…” the blonde whimpered, feeling tears coming to her eyes.
“Put that thing in your mouth and I *might* take that fine ass of yours after you’re dead.”
Jaime grabbed Blake’s head and thrust it forward, just enough so the tips of the blades were touching her lips but not enough to pierce them. “Open wide, damn you. You know I can force you.”
Blake’s lips started to part, her head shaking as she was sobbing. She tremblingly closed her mouth around the device and started sucking on the cold matter, praying the inside of her mouth wouldn’t be cut by the blades. At least the edges of the device weren’t jagged; bumpy and unfinished, but she could live with that.
“You don’t have to do it for long,” Jaime sneered. “You might cut yourself, and I ain’t gonna let a chance to kiss that sweet, sweet mouth go… I hate the taste of blood. The sight of it, not so bad.”
Blake swallowed it for a few seconds longer before pulling back, looking up at her unfeeling captor and trying not to think of where Jaime was planning to put that.
“Take it off. And don’t even think about saying no again…”
Getting up, Blake mechanically removed her prison uniform and dropped it to the floor, showing Jaime her golden naked body. Beaming, the insane woman took it all in as she walked around her, caressing her sides as she did and not missing the opportunity to give her breasts a squeeze. Blake let out a little cry as Jaime prodded one of her soft buttocks with the blades, pressing JUST enough for it to be noticed but not enough to cut through.
“My my, Mocha Buns must just be soaking her panties every day knowing she can’t have you… looking at what you got just never gets old. Guess what – you ain’t gonna get old either!” Jaime cackled. “Gimme a spread while you’re there.”
Swallowing, Blake cupped her own ass, moved her legs apart a few inches and bent forward, spreading them. Jaime was only eyeing Blake’s front and rear entrances for a few moments, but for the tall blonde it might as well have been forever. At least she didn’t feel Jaime’s tongue down there…
“Lie down by the bed, if you don’t mind.”
Blake obeyed, her hands by the bedframe as Jaime took the woman’s uniform, tore off a couple of strips, and tied her hands securely. The frame had been built into the floor, so there was no way for her to lift it off and get loose; Jaime was such an expert in knot-tying that she was watching Blake’s exposed thighs all the while she was tying the hands.
The captured blonde had had women come on to her even before she’d gotten mixed up with this crew – even before that business with Emma Roberts. But not even the time a bunch of her classmates had attacked her after school had been as bad as this; they had thought she was sleeping with their boyfriends (which she did in fact do after that attack – revenge, in this case, was a dish best served hot and sweaty) but none of them had actually tried to do permanent harm to her. Whereas…
As Blake turned her head to one side Jaime Pressly straddled her, the deadly device right above her crotch. “Look at me.”
Blake stayed where she was.
“I said LOOK AT ME!”
Blake, by now not even trying to keep from weeping, looked into Jaime’s ice-cold eyes as the woman rested a hand on her chest, preparing to make the first thrust into Blake.
“This is gonna hurt,” Jaime said calmly, and moved her hips back. “A lot.”
The cell was immediately filled by a loud, piercing scream – thanks to a fire extinguisher that smashed against the side of Jaime’s head. That, and the second blow to the body which knocked her off the terrified Blake, and sent her crashing onto the corner where the floor and wall met.
“Damn right,” panted an extinguisher-wielding Hayden Panettiere, as captive and captor alike gaped at her.
“What the FUCK?!?” Jaime goggled, rapidly trying to clear her head. “But I locked the –”
“Thank Megan. I showed her my tricks, she showed me hers,” Hayden explained as a stunned Blake watch the new arrival swiftly step over her legs and swing back the extinguisher – and if Hayden had done it a few seconds earlier it would have been over right then and there.
But as she brought it down, Jaime brought her hands up and grabbed it; this time she was ready. Getting up and shoving back, Jaime rapidly propelled Hayden and the extinguisher away from Blake and pinned her to the wall at the far end of the cell, Hayden struggling to keep enough space between the two so that device wouldn’t go in her.
“I made this for her, not for you, so I’m giving ONE chance,” Jaime grunted. “You stay out of this, go back outside and make like you got here after I was done, and you get to keep breathin’… I’m gonna finish off Boobs Legsly if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“You kill Blake and it WILL be the last thing you ever do,” Hayden answered in between gasps.
“What, you think you can take me?”
“Again? Yeah. I won’t even use this,” Hayden added, nodding to the extinguisher.
Jaime undid the device and threw it onto the bed, glancing at Blake – and seeing to her satisfaction that the hope that had come back there was replaced with fear. “I ain’t done with you, girl,” she assured her, before facing Hayden again.
“All right, Halfpint – let’s dance…”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid.”
As the last vestiges of bleariness fled his head, Vance’s vision came back to him. His crotch was throbbing from the gift Shay had given him, almost as much as his head; but he would still rather have seen Miss Mitchell looking down on him than the sardonic features of Jane Lynch. A dressed, cowed and embarrassed Scarlett Johansson standing next to her was no comfort. Ditto a slightly less embarrassed Brad.
“Hope she gave you a good one,” the guard said casually. “’Cause it’ll be the last one you get for some time if we don’t get ‘em back.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Under Warden Milano’s reign Cell 3849 had been annexed to the ones on either side, making it three times the size of a normal cell – the better to have the odd romps in. Rumour had it that the warden herself had used it from time to time, which certainly explained the presence of carpet flooring.
Right now Hayden Panettiere and Jaime Pressly were on the floor, with the former getting ground down by the latter; Hayden thrashed upwards and yanked Jaime’s hair aside, wrenching her just enough over to loosen her grip a little and giving her a chance to punch upwards. It connected with her face, but not enough to hurt her – Jaime replied by clutching Hayden by the front of her uniform, dragging her up and throwing her across the cell.
She landed with a crash on the far side, hitting the bars before sliding to the ground. Hayden struggled to get up before Jaime could get over, but didn’t make it; a fist landed on her face, and that DID hit hard enough to hurt. Her head ringing, the small blonde lunged forward and shoved a hand up Jaime’s uniform, grabbing the killer’s pussy and finding the clit.
“Well now, ain’t that a nice little – “Jaime started, before howling as Hayden’s thumb and forefinger twisted the clit, giving her an idea of what it was like for men to be kicked in the balls while Hayden clawed at Jaime’s right side, ripping a shred of her uniform and scratching a little of the exposed skin off. Jaime smacked Hayden across the face, knocking her over before slamming an elbow into her back. Hayden kicked out at Jaime, getting enough space to leap forward, and bit her on her upper right thigh.
And she bit DEEP.
Blake wished she could have covered her ears to block out the loud, piercing scream that came from Jaime as Hayden dug her teeth in further than Shay had gone before with poor Vance’s penis, bursting the skin and feeling some of the muscle beneath. That was no love bite, not by a long shot. Hayden hung in there for a little longer like a feral dog before pulling back, spitting out some of the blood – which was all she had time to do before Jaime, her eyes like thunder, shoved her head against the wall with a crack.
“You like biting, midget?! DO YA!?! Well, anything you can do…” Jaime bared her teeth and dove in, planning to make Hayden Panettiere the second girl whose throat she’d ripped out.
Hayden shot her head aside and out of the way with a nanosecond to spare. Neither of them got out of that intact; Jaime cracked a couple of teeth when she hit the bars, and Hayden had plunged onto the floor so sharply that she’d landed on a right arm that wasn’t in the best position for such a tactic. But she was able to get her feet into Jaime’s stomach as the furious woman turned on her, shoving her away and landing on the nearby director’s chair – the one that the guards liked to take turns using when filming. It was actually a regular chair, and a hard one. As Jaime found out.
And as HAYDEN found out when, while she was getting up, Jaime took it and swung it at the little blonde. It crashed against her legs, making her fall several feet away from Blake; the chair wasn’t broken, and mercifully neither were Hayden’s legs, but Jaime was going for a second try. She brought up the chair and hurled it down, and Hayden rolled aside, getting most of herself out of the way.
That time the chair went bye-bye, and Hayden wailed – it had gotten her right arm. It wasn’t broken, but it was hurting… Jaime cackled with delight on seeing she was getting somewhere, and promptly stood on it, grinding a foot on her wrist.
“Looks like that hurt…”
“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Blake screamed.
“Don’t you worry none, hotass,” Jaime called as Hayden tried to get one of the chair pieces. “I’ll leave her in a little while.”
As Hayden’s fingers closed on one of the chair legs, Jaime swiftly knelt – still standing on the girl’s wrist – and picked up the fire extinguisher. Then she brought it down on Hayden’s injured arm, producing another painful cry followed by another one, thanks to Jaime hitting the other arm and forcing her to drop the chair leg.
“Didn’t say *I* couldn’t use this, Pint Size,” Jaime pointed out, and slammed the extinguisher against the luckless young woman’s legs. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just drop this on your head right now.”
“’Cause you wanna fuck me one last time?” Hayden suggested.
That was purely a straw being grasped, but Jaime nodded; she knelt down and pushed the nozzle of the fire extinguisher into Hayden’s mouth. “Over to the table, or you get to find out what this tastes like.”
“Hayden…?” Blake asked in disbelief, and received a look from the youngest of the three blondes that she really hoped was saying “Trust me.”
Painfully getting up, Hayden walked over to the table with Jaime leading her and holding the extinguisher, and swiftly she was tied with more straps of uniform to the table’s legs, directly across from Blake. Even though the latter’s legs were spread, Hayden kept her eyes firmly on Blake’s face.
“Perfect,” Jaime said, picking up the device and looking at Hayden. “Enjoy the show, Itty Bitty – you get to be the encore.”
Jaime approached Blake, and wielding the device stroked the tall blonde’s entire body with it, the blades touching the skin hard enough to make Blake squirm, but not hard enough to cut flesh. Jaime particularly liked seeing her expression when she touched the Lively snatch it.
Hayden had her eyes focused away from Jaime’s little display, because they were on a small bundle. During the fight with Jaime her own tools had come out of her uniform, and they were within reach of her foot. It was the getting there that would be tough – her legs were still smarting from that damn extinguisher, and she knew Jaime wasn’t about to waste much time on foreplay. Trying not to make a sound, Hayden rested her feet on the bundle and started to drag it closer.
Clenching her teeth, Hayden had the bundle by her side. Then she started searching around the knot, trying to pull it a little in any direction so the whole bond would move around her wrists – she knew she couldn’t pull apart the knot because Jaime had tied it well, but if she could get a bit of the untied fabric on the edge of the table leg… YES! There it was. She began to rub the fabric along the edge. And to pray.
“Go on your side a bit – one more thing I gotta do…” Jaime said casually to Blake, whose first instinct was to say no.
But then she saw Hayden. And the bundle. And hating herself but knowing it was ironically probably her only chance she went on her side without a word, and thanked the heavens she couldn’t see Jaime behind her resting her rough hands on her cheeks and slipping her lizard-like tongue into the tiny hole between them. At least Emma Roberts hadn’t tried that, but only because of time pressures – Blake wished she had eaten something… but knowing Jaime, she’d probably like it. Still, if it bought Hayden some time…
“Soft and sweet, just the way I like it,” Jaime said to Blake casually as she moved her head back from the captive’s behind. “I could do this all day, but it’s time for the main event.”
Rolling Blake back in position, Jaime kissed the blonde’s mole and buckled the device back on, and then had a grab of Blake’s boobs – “Never got to do that either” – before she started to climb onto her.
And felt a hand grabbing her leg and start to pull her back, breaking the mood.
“OH YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!” Jaime roared, kicking back and connecting with Hayden’s face, sending her back as the crazed woman turned to finish her off. But not before Hayden had dived towards the little bundle – just as Jaime spotted it.
“NOT HAPPENING!” she shouted, and kicked it away from Hayden through the doors… but by that time Hayden had snatched the smallest of the blades inside. The young woman howled as Jaime stomped on the wrist and kicked her repeatedly in the stomach and chest, sending her under the table before turning back to Blake, whose eyes were widened with terror.
“Say goodbye, whore,” Jaime snarled and headed for the terrified Blake. She was moving fast – and Hayden was moving as fast as she could behind her, reaching for Jaime’s waist with one hand, holding the blade with the other.
Whispering “Please…” Hayden slashed out as her other hand clutched the strap.
The blade sliced along the small of Jaime’s back as the psycho plunged towards Blake, making a little red path downwards – and through the leather. As it cut through, Hayden wrenched the strap to the left harder than she had ever pulled anything in her life…
…and Jaime Pressly landed on Blake Lively.
Blake’s instinctive scream tailed off when she felt Jaime’s pussy against hers. And nothing else.
“HUH?” both said in shock and surprise as Jaime levered herself off her prisoner, and looked down to see that her pride and joy was gone. Hayden had ripped it off Jaime in time and hurled it away towards the cell door, and now there she was, heading for it.
“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST *DIE?!?*” Jaime howled, shooting off Blake and cannoning into Hayden as her hands grasped the device; she slammed her hands onto the floor, forcing Hayden to drop it; she grabbed it, wielding it while holding the small blonde down with her other hand.
“You thought you could bring it, could you?!” Jaime snarled, bringing the device down. Ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, Hayden grabbed Jaime’s device hand and started to push back.
“Now who’s the bitch here, huh?!” Jaime growled. “Who’s – the – bitch – here!?”
“YOU,” Hayden spat, and shoved the device away from her and into Jaime’s left breast.
Her opponent’s scream coincided with Jaime’s other hand moving off her, letting Hayden hit her in the chest with her forehead. As Jaime staggered back, an enraged Hayden punched her in the jaw and nose repeatedly, and then sent her to the carpet and mounted her. Jaime tried to get out from under her, but the ex-reporter was rapidly raining down her little but furious fists.
“I TOLD YOU!” Hayden screamed in between blows. “I AIN’T YOUR BITCH! YOU – ARE – MINE!”
Then she clutched Jaime’s throat and throttled her, screaming “YOU! ARE! MINE!!!!” over and over, before letting her hands loose. Jaime’s head lolled to one side as she lay still under the heaving blonde, the device sliding out of the wounds of her chest and rolling onto the floor.
“I don’t care how good you are at it – no one fucks my ass without asking, Saline Tits,” Hayden said as she caught her breath. “No one.”
She got off Jaime, kicking the unconscious beaten blonde, and winced as she bent to pick up her knife before she turned to a stunned Blake. The woman’s body was trembling and her eyes were flooded with tears, but she was unharmed.
“You okay, Blake?” Hayden asked, cutting her bonds and freeing her – and getting her answer an instant later as the shattered blonde embraced her, tears of joy falling on her shoulder.
“Th… th… thank you! THANK YOU! OH, THANK YOU!!!” Hayden let the knife drop in shocked surprise as Blake held her; not that she had a problem with being held by a naked sexy blonde, but… “Bless you, Hayden! You saved my life – I thought I was…”
“Shhh,” Hayden said soothingly, patting the rescued woman. “Jaime’s done, but we still gotta get out of here. Come on, get your stuff on.”
“She… she said she wanted to do that the time we first met… the girl’s crazy…” Still disbelieving, Blake picked her uniform up and slipped it on.
“Yeah, I know. She isn’t gonna touch you again, count on it.”
Blake nodded, clasping Hayden’s hands as they heard a whole load of footsteps heading down the corridor rapidly. Not wanting to be in the cell any longer, the two stepped outside.
“What took you guys so long?” Hayden asked on seeing the other members assembled there.
“We had farther to go and more people to… fuck, what happened to you?” Emma asked, taking in the reporter’s battered but still quite hot appearance and Blake’s nervous demeanour.
“And where’s Jaime?” Megan asked.
Blake pointed towards Alyssa’s Place. The whole team looked through the bars, and saw the remains of the chair – and the supine Pressly, making all of them gaze at the two blondes in shock.
“Holy mother of mercy…” Roselyn gasped. “What happened?”
“Jaime got here just after I did,” Blake managed to say. “She… she wanted…”
“Jaime wanted to kill her. And rape her,” Hayden said flatly.
“Don’t you mean—“ Jennifer started.
“No,” Hayden and Roselyn said together. Roselyn in particular sounded stunned; she had never doubted Jaime was capable of something like this, but for some reason she had never imagined it would be among one of her own.
“Fuck…” Emma shook her head, seeing the device lying beside Jaime. “What *is* that thing?”
“Jaime made it… she made me suck on that before she…” Blake shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. “If Hayden hadn’t busted in here—“
“YOU did this?!?” Olivia interrupted, looking at Jaime and then back at the small blonde. “What are you, a superhero?”
“She’s *my* hero for sure,” Blake said softly.
“And a lot tougher than she looks,” Shay noted. It still embarrassed her to think about how Hayden had cold-cocked her during the getaway.
“Pressly made it harder for us though,” Megan spat. “She could wake up while we’re cutting through the floor.”
“We could all still take her,” Emma pointed out.
“Yeah, and she could take some of US,” Jennifer replied.
“So why are we all still standing here?”
Roselyn didn’t wait for an answer to her own question, and neither did any of the others. Taking a page from Lot and his daughters as they began to race towards the other block, none of them – especially a tiny blonde and a taller one – looked back.
* * * * * * * * * *
None of them looked UP. Though in fairness, the camera installed in the ceiling of Alyssa’s Place was so small that none of them would have seen it even if they were.
“Quite the little spitfire, our Miss Panettiere,” Kate Winslet said as she, Cate Blanchett and Grace Park studied the scene in the cell, watching the team vacate the premises; the head guard had wanted to go to the cell the moment it came up on the security screens, but Kate had pointed out that they’d all be gone before she could get there. “If only circumstances were different…”
“Yeah, Hayden said something kinda like that about you, Cate,” Grace said casually.
“If I was in charge here, no one would ever call the warden by her first name,” Cate said far less casually.
“I didn’t mean the kind that comes with a K – she already did Winslet,” Grace pointed out. “Her and Lady Godiva 2.0 like playing they’re bringing out your inner lesbian – Emma’s always you because Hayden’s the whooty in that particular setup and you… well, you know.”
“No. I don’t know,” the Australian said stiffly.
“And you say they were going to leave through there?” Kate asked Grace hastily, seeing Cate had tightened the grip on her chair.
“Yeah. Of course, now Jaime fucked that up…”
“Actually, if Pressly had succeeded there would have been one less person to deal with,” the warden pointed out. “I’m not sure Cate here would have minded. Now, if we can have the layout—“
“They’re heading to the gym,” the hacker interrupted. “That’s where the other way out is. Once they get into the pipes you can station some shooters at—“
“Thank you, but all I need to know is where they’ll go in and where they’ll go out. Blanchett,” Kate continued, “when you have all the guards together, half will go to the gym and follow them into the system. The other half must include Carey Mulligan and Carly Chaikin…”
“Why?” asked Cate.
“Because they’re Remy Hadley’s best shots. They and the rest of the other half will go directly to the western outlet, to give our would-be escapees a reception they will never forget… for however long they’re alive.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The keycard now back in Emma’s hand, she swiped it at the main entrance to the cellblock as the others, each clutching a weapon of some kind, kept a look in case someone was behind them.
“Shit, should’ve brought a sweater…” Jennifer grumbled as she and the others were greeted with the night air on heading out.
“Blame the high-ups, and come on!” Roselyn said.
The original plans for Remy Hadley had had a hallway between the two cell blocks, but it was removed later to expand the outdoor area because the prisoners required more fresh air. Nice for their health in most cases, except for tonight. If they’d had enough time they could have backtracked halfway around the prison to get to where they had to be… but they didn’t.
“Zig zag, all of you,” Roselyn said tersely as they ran onto the grounds. “It’s our only chance.”
Just as she finished saying that and as each one ran away from the others, the grounds were flooded with lights – and the guards on the outer walls started shooting as eight women raced this way and that, each one running as fast as their feet could carry them towards the other cellblock while bullets whizzed around them. None of them had any idea which shot was coming from where, and the only thought running through their heads was “Please don’t let it be me…”
Even though the territory between the blocks wasn’t that big, for each of the ladies it seemed like an eternity. But the other block got closer and closer, and there were plenty of yells from each woman – but it was from all of them.
Emma put on a final burst and bounded to the entrance to the block, and had the card ready. Within seconds Roselyn was there and Emma swiped the card, letting her in. Then Olivia, then Megan, then Shay, then Blake, then Hayden, then Jennifer… SLAM!
The doors shut behind them, the eight convicts allowed themselves a few seconds to catch their breaths, each one mentally thanking their lucky stars they’d gotten this far.
“I wanna stay here just as much as you,” Roselyn said between gasps, before putting temptation behind her and heading as fast as she could to the next stop.
“Roselyn-“ Shay started.
“I know,” the leader interrupted, trying to ignore the bullet lodged in her left arm. “It’ll keep.”
Glancing at Olivia, whose upper right thigh had a little growing red mark on it, Shay could only nod.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shaking her head to clear it as she revived, Jaime Pressly took mental stock of her body. She was hurting but almost proud; who’d have thought that hobbit would’ve done so much damage? She’d had worse beatings, but not from someone the size of a peanut.
Looking around Alyssa’s Place, she saw her little friend lying next to her, and cracked an evil smile. “Should’ve thrown it out the window, Itty Bitty,” she said to herself, and picked up the deadly device before shoving aside pieces of table and chair – they were in the way of the panel.
Cutting through the carpeted floor, Jaime flung back the fabric to reveal the panels underneath. If they’d all been there there’d have been several blades working on the panel they needed to prise out and get into the sewers; Jaime was all alone, but she was strong, she was fast, and she was determined. She’d open this thing with her fingernails if she had to, and when she caught up with them she was going to be opening several more things up – starting with that annoying little blonde and leaving Blake Lively for last.
The panel started to give, and Jaime smiled again.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Are the others back in their cells?” Cate Blanchett asked, glaring at Brad, Vance and Scarlett Johansson once they had been verbally disembowelled by the sharp-faced Australian in front of all the other guards gathered outside their changing facilities. Which was ALL the other guards.
“Actually, the only one who was still out was Nina Agdal,” Sarah Wayne Callies answered. “Taylor Momsen was turning the air blue when we got to Olivia Wilde’s cell, so she can’t have been in on it –“
“That wasn’t what I asked. Are they all back, yes or no?”
“NO!” Cate snapped, making them jump. “They are NOT all back. Nine of them are at large on the grounds, and we know they have weapons.”
She gave Vance and Scarlett another withering look. “At least Mr. Meadow was unconscious before Miss Mitchell took his nightstick; Miss Johansson, you have no such excuse. And they have your gun.”
Scarlett just looked at the floor, wishing she could be somewhere else right now – anywhere else, including at home with ptomaine.
“We can only hope we can stop them before they add to their body count,” the head guard continued. “Now they are heading towards the western outlet, and that is where half of you will be going. Alba, you’ll be in charge of your group; Mulligan, Chaikin – you’ll be going with her. And the moment those women emerge, you will unleash God’s own fury on them; no one has gotten out of Remy Hadley since I arrived, and no one ever will.”
“What about the other half?” asked Jessica Alba.
“We’ll be following them through the sewers; if we can catch them before they arrive all well and good. If not, at least we’ll be able to stop them if anyone tries to doubleback. Either way, we’ll get them on both sides… what is it, Johansson?”
Scarlett wished Cate hadn’t seen the unease on her face. Weren’t they supposed to try and bring them in unharmed, instead of basically using them for target practice? She tried to hide her feelings, but Cate just shook her head.
“The rest of you wait here,” said the head guard, beckoning to Scarlett to join her in the changing room.
“Poor kid,” Julie Bowen said to herself. “Twice in one night…”
“Do I have to remind you that I’m the head guard here, not you?” Cate told her once they entered. “Just because you like dropping your trousers for the prisoners…”
“My parents brought me up to treat people like people,” Scarlett replied. “Not animals.”
“You’re walking on thin ice, Johansson. Convicts lose any right to be treated as people the second they break the law.”
“Good thing you don’t have kids…”
“Crack, crack,” Cate said. “The ice is breaking.”
Scarlett breathed deeply to try and calm herself down – maybe she could get her case across without losing it. “I just don’t believe in treating them mean all the time. Some of them deserve it, but most of them… you play fair with them, they play fair with you. And the ones breaking out – do you really believe they’re that dangerous? Pressly, yeah, she should never get out – but the rest of them aren’t the killing kind.”
“I don’t believe in taking chances, and I am not letting them out. Especially that blonde whore,” Cate replied, a hand tightening on her stick at the thought.
“You want them all dead, don’t you? It’s Summer Glau all over again, isn’t it?”
“She fell down the stairway, Johansson. You know that.”
“When she was leaving her cell.”
“On the GROUND FLOOR… please, Blanchett, spare me the story about how she got out of line; Summer’s a model prisoner and the only thing she ever did was touch your ass – all you had to do was tell her no…”
“Shut up, Johansson.”
“No, YOU shut up,” the younger guard spat. “We all know what you did, how you smashed her knees – I still have nightmares about her screaming…”
Cate Blanchett wasn’t the kind to yell and jump, but her body did quiver a little on that.
“Yeah, I saw it,” Scarlett said. “I kept quiet because I was scared of you… I’m sorry I sat on this so long. I’m going over to Winslet’s office and when I’ve quit I’m calling the cops; whatever I get from them for being quiet, I’ll deserve it. But maybe I can look Summer Glau in the face now and get some sleep.”
“I’m done with this,” Scarlett interrupted. “I’m done with all of it. I’m done with Remy Hadley, I’m done with your little dictatorship, and I’m done with you.”
Before Scarlett could storm out, Cate grabbed her arm tightly with one hand.
“No,” the Australian replied icily. “I’m done with YOU.”
None of the guards waiting out in the hall enjoyed the next five minutes; they could all hear the loud cracks of Cate Blanchett’s special nightstick as it slammed onto whichever part of Scarlett Johansson she aimed it, and Scarlett’s agonized wails as she begged for Cate to stop, screamed for someone out there to help her, and eventually became muffled, as if she had been hit across the mouth with the weapon.
As Scarlett’s screams turned to subdued little groans and sobs, every single one of them wanted to go in there and rescue her. But none of them wanted to be getting what Scarlett was getting, which was the only possible outcome if any of them went in…
“You were right about one thing,” the head guard said casually, bringing back the nightstick and looking at it with pride before giving the moaning, bloodied, broken, half-dead blonde a contemptuous look. “You *did* deserve it.”
Scarlett started to crawl away towards the door, her voice unable to rise above a whisper.
“Shut up,” Cate said, bringing the nightstick down one last time, striking the top of Scarlett’s pretty head. The guard shuddered once and lay still.
Cate knelt down and felt Scarlett’s wrist, searching for a pulse – she didn’t react to what she found.
“If I could finish the job right now, I would,” she told the unconscious young woman as she replaced her blood-smeared nightstick and opened up her phone, ringing the medical area.
“It’s Blanchett. Get down to the guards’ area at once,” she said calmly. “One of the escapees attacked Scarlett Johansson. Badly.”
Cate hung up and checked her gun; it was fully loaded. Holstering it, she then hefted her pride and joy – her special nightstick, the one that was weighted with iron near the end. The one that she’d used to cripple Summer Glau and now had some of Scarlett Johansson’s blood on it, and the one that she was looking forward to using on those dykes’s skulls.
“And she shall smite the wicked, and cast them into the fiery pit,” she said to herself with the coldest smile ever to grace the Earth, and left to rejoin the others.
* * * * * * * * *
The gymnasium wasn’t situated far from the main entrance, but the gang had to pass the commissary; Olivia insisted on stopping off there to fill up on some snacks, stashing them inside her uniform.
“Long trip to the city,” she explained.
“Long way before we get out of here,” Shay replied, even though she was pilfering some stuff as well.
“You gotta keep a positive state of mind,” Megan chided, getting a few things herself before she and the others vacated the premises. Heading briskly down the halls, she moved next to Hayden – and to Blake, who they’d noticed had stuck close to her little protector all the way. Not that Megan could blame her; it was working so far, and neither of them had been hit running across the grounds. But…
“Are you all right, Hayd?” Megan asked.
“Just hurt my hand a little there with Jaime,” she replied. “I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know,” Blake said thoughtfully. “When you were running back there it looked like your arms were—“
“I’ll be fine, honest,” Hayden interrupted, a little too forcefully. “Let’s just break out, okay?”
“You heard the lady,” Roselyn said, pushing open the door to the gym. “Anyone want to use the bathroom?”
“I’m good,” Jennifer piped up.
“She was trying to make a joke,” Emma explained as the team wandered through the various pieces of equipment where they’d all tortured their bodies at one time or another.
“How come… OH.”
“Good thing you’re hot,” Megan laughed as the ladies entered the bathroom. “You can be really slow sometimes.”
The other way into the tunnels was in through there; once Megan had burned through the floor panels with the flame cutter she had gotten, the others would have to loosen them with the knives she and Hayden had brought. They were one short, but even without Jaime there were enough there so it wouldn’t take long. The hole wouldn’t have to be too big, just enough for them to drop through – say about two or three feet square.
“Let’s hear it for cheapskate American workmanship,” Roselyn smiled, seeing the stream slicing through the tiles. Megan moved the flame quickly, and one by one the ladies started to dig around the rest of the area; it didn’t escape their notice that Hayden was moving her knife more gingerly than the others.
“You guide the fire, Hayd,” Megan said gently. “I’ll cut for you.”
“I could do that instead.”
Shay almost dropped her knife on hearing that voice. It had been unexpected, but none of the others had been as startled as her; it was like she knew who the speaker was.
The gang all turned to see Sarah Shahi standing there, wearing an enormous smile. Since she wasn’t a pain to look at, they would have been a lot happier to see her – even in present circumstances – if she wasn’t flanked by lifers Fontana Maxwell and April Newman. Plus Phoebe Tonkin, Milla Jovovich, Nicki Minaj and Jennette McCurdy.
And Kristen Stewart, whose eyes narrowed when she was Jennifer.
“So what brings you over to the Eastern Bloc?” Sarah chuckled.
“Sarah?” Shay finally managed to say.
“You know her?” Emma asked.
“I know her family.”
“Is this really the time for a reunion, Shahi?” Jennifer asked testily.
“It’s Kennedy,” Phoebe corrected.
“Don’t get in my light, Wonder From Down Under,” Sarah snapped. “I married into the Kennedys-“
“THE Kennedys?!” Blake interrupted, impressed.
“No, dumbass,” Jennette said. “They’re not East Coast royalty, they’re Nevada mob royalty.”
“Just like Shay here is part of SoCal mob royalty,” Sarah continued. “The Mitchells had an arrangement with my guys two years ago for some meth deals; we met up on neutral ground to close the deal and SOMEONE tipped off the cops. It wasn’t you, I’ll give you that much,” she added, shooting Shay a glare of Death Star proportions. “We all had time to make the switch and get away – well, that’s what we thought…”
“Once we got away we opened up the cases the Mitchells gave us,” April continued. “We agreed on ten million in cash, and there was ten million in there all right.”
“Ten million what, jellybeans?” asked Megan.
“Ten million dollars. All counterfeit,” Sarah said. “Your family stiffed us, Shay, and that meth money was the only thing keeping Brian Kennedy from me; another setup got my man Brian and four others, and thanks to your crew’s stunt they’ve still got him.”
Shay’s knees buckled a little.
“Is that why you didn’t want to go through Nevada?” Emma asked.
“Damn right,” Milla told her. “Ever since that day any Mitchell who sets foot in the state is a dead man walking. Or woman.”
“I got put away last year for trafficking through to the Golden State, and they stuck me in Pica Morales,” Sarah continued. “Until I got transferred here.”
“Probably not for good behaviour,” Megan muttered.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Roselyn asked. “You friends with Grace Park?”
“Grace told some of our friends, yeah. We got friends in high places…”
“How high? The warden?” Hayden asked.
Sarah just gave her a slow smile.
“Oh fuck… it’s Rhona, isn’t it?” Roselyn groaned. “That woman gets everywhere.”
“Sucks to be you now, don’t it?” Sarah asked the unnerved Shay before turning to her friends. “Ladies, you can go for anyone you want, but Shay Mitchell is mine.”
“Give it your best shot,” Nicki added. “But you ain’t going nowhere…”
* * * * * * * * *
“By the way, thank you for extending your little alarm to cover Sarah Shahi and her friends,” Kate said. “And for telling them about the gym.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Grace replied. “You didn’t… um… record any of the displays from Alyssa’s Place, did you?”
“I most certainly did.”
“Think I could watch a few-“
* * * * * * * * * *
“Kristen here couldn’t wait to join in,” Phoebe continued. “Especially when sexy Sarah here told us about your new friend’s secret past.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jennifer.
“Don’t hide your light under a bushel, Head Cheerleader Lawrence,” Jennette cackled. “The first year she went to 12th District School she made the squad – cheered on the Ravens to victory almost every time.”
“Until she became head cheerleader,” Fontana added. “That year the team didn’t lose at all… you must have something really inspiring under there…”
“She does,” said Milla with a huge grin on her face.
All the others, except Jennifer, stared at her in surprise.
“Oh, like any of you would pass THAT up,” the Ukrainian added airily.
“Troian loves it when I dress up like a cheerleader,” Hayden commented. “Never liked the getup myself, but…”
“I hear that,” Megan agreed.
“Don’t worry, you’re not going to have to worry about that any longer,” April assured them. And with that, she went for Hayden; Fontana, no respecter of size, ran alongside her before targeting the much smaller Emma, carrying her outside with the force.
Milla smashed into Megan with such force that the two also tumbled out of the room into the gym.
“What is it with you and cheerle-“ was all Olivia managed to get out before Phoebe leaped onto her, tugging at her hair and sending them both onto the tiled floor. The two rolled over and over, also heading into the gym.
“Remember the library?” Nicki shouted, and was on Blake, sending her outside and pinning her to the ground.
Kristen and Jennifer were pounding each other against the wall, both hoping to send the other into goodnightland. As for Roselyn, she didn’t mind blondes, but not when they were hitting her on the jaw as Jennette was; someone should’ve spanked this one a lot harder as a girl…
“They’ll keep your friends busy,” Sarah said, advancing on Shay while ignoring the yells and thuds around them. “This is for my boyfriend.”
“This” was a blow to Shay’s face that sent her sprawling, with Sarah leaping onto her the second Shay landed. The young woman howled when she felt a knee connecting to her stomach, followed by another wallop to her head; Shay grabbed out to fight back, but Sarah had her own head in her hands, and brought it on the floor.
The pain exploded in Shay’s skull as the woman glared down at her and started to do it again – and Shay kicked Sarah back, battling to overcome the agony in her head. She reached into her uniform and pulled the nightstick out, but Sarah knocked it out of her hand and sent it skittering to the other end of the room.
“It doesn’t have to be this way…” Nicki told Blake as the two grappled near the running machines. “How about you just let me lick you all over, and we call it a night? You might like it…”
“I should’ve done this with Emma,” Blake muttered.
“Done what, sugar?” asked Nicki.
Maybe it was the memory of being at Jaime’s mercy back in Alyssa’s Place. Maybe it was Nicki saying she didn’t want to hurt her while pinning Blake down with her sizeable behind. Maybe it was just one woman too many coming on to her, but… it was hard to tell which of the two was more surprised a moment later when Blake shot her hands up, clutched Nicki’s tresses and sharply tugged her head aside, slamming it onto the frame of the nearest machine. The voluptuous woman tumbled onto the floor as Blake rapidly got out of the way; Nicki’s ample ass facing them as she landed would have been an opportunity for any of the others, but for Blake Lively it was a sign that she would NEVER let another woman try and take her. Not ever.
“This is for guys only, Minaj,” the blonde told Nicki as she pointed to her body.
Megan Fox was not having as easy a time with Milla Jovovich, who was actually kicking her around the place; each time she tried to get up, Milla had her on the ropes.
“How about we just kiss and make out like Nicki wanted with my friend?” she suggested, wincing under Milla’s latest blow.
“No chance,” her opponent replied. “I like my girls to have real breasts.”
That did it. Milla’s shit-eating grin was smashed into by Megan’s fist, followed by the rest of her body sending the two of them against one of the exercise bikes. They tumbled over it, Megan punching Milla across the jaw hard before either of them could get up and knocking her out, and ripping her uniform open to show off Miss Jovovich’s rack, or lack thereof.
“At least I *got* breasts, loser,” Megan spat.
Phoebe and Olivia struggled by the entrance to the gym; Phoebe had Olivia in a headlock and was grimly trying to get her hands in the prime position for neck-snapping.
“That ain’t gonna happen,” Olivia managed to get out, before flipping Phoebe over; she smashed into the water cooler, sending water and machinery everywhere. Before she could get up, Olivia’s arms flew out and two punches quietened her.
“Practise for Rosie,” she spat.
On the other end of the row of exercise bikes, Hayden was getting slugged repeated by April, and returning blow for blow – but each one was hurting Hayden more than it hurt April, partly because of their respective sizes and partly thanks to her aching arm.
“Look,” she said in between punches, “you heard what Nicki Minaj tried over there… it would work with me…”
“Wouldn’t work with me,” April replied, slamming Hayden against the row.
“Don’t like white girls?” the pixie gasped.
“Don’t like GIRLS, period…” April said, getting Hayden into a hug. And squeezing, and squeezing, until Miss Panettiere thought she could feel her ribs starting to crack…
There was a loud crack, but it came from outside and above her body. The pressure around Hayden lifted as April dropped to the ground with a thud, revealing one of the smaller weights used for lifting purposes – and the woman who’d just knocked out April with it.
“Makes two of us,” Blake Lively breathed, dropping the weight near the enemy as Hayden smiled at her.
Emma wasn’t in the mood for smiling; Fontana was a lot faster than her size implied, and the girl was flailing under each blow to her body – every time the convict made contact Emma felt her insides rearranging themselves. She tried to fight back, but the woman was dragging her all over the place like a doll.
Shay and Sarah were tearing at each other, spitting curses as fabric was ripped and flesh punched. Sarah tugged Shay’s head back and cracked it on the wall, punching her ribs at the same time. Shay shoved back at Sarah and the two staggered away, Shay trying to get her fingers on her opponent’s chest (not for a feel, but for a twist).
Kristen hurled Jennifer onto a row of lockers; wrenching one of her arms behind her before the faux brunette had time to respond, the real brunette pressed her onto the cold metal and hissed “I never liked your kind, Lawrence.”
“Not crazy about you either, Stewart,” Jennifer grunted, and shoved an elbow into Kristen’s stomach before sharply jerking her head back, crashing it against her opponent’s face; she told herself that the tiny little moistness she felt on her head was Kristen Stewart’s blood and not saliva. It gave her courage.
As the two rolled off the lockers, Kristen saw Shay and Sarah’s battle carry them near her – and while slamming her next blow into Jennifer, she put one of her legs out just as Shay approached.
Unable to see it due to her attention being occupied with strangling Sarah, Shay tripped backwards over Kristen’s foot; she was then kicked by Sarah before she landed, with her opponent stamping on her chest. Shay quickly grabbed Sarah’s foot and twisted it.
The room was filled with a sharp howl from Sarah as the ankle snapped; she collapsed on top of Shay, her hands reaching for the younger woman’s throat. Shay socked Sarah across the jaw and went for her breasts again – and this time she got them.
Sarah yelled in agony as Shay gave them a hard twist; she aimed her hands at the woman’s face, clawing across it and managing to scratch a little skin off, but Shay kicked Sarah in her busted ankle, forcing her to let go because of the pain. Shay smashed her fists across Sarah’s face one more time, hard enough to make her hit the tiled floor hard enough to knock her out.
Then Shay found herself being hauled off the floor by a pair of strong, meaty arms suddenly wrapped around her waist; the shocked convict felt a face pressing against hers as she was clutched closer to the newcomer.
“Don’t start celebrating yet, gorgeous,” Fontana growled. “Time for round two – hope you put up more of a fight than your friend did.”
Out in the gym, a groaning Emma Roberts just lay there, trying to get herself mentally and physically pieced together after Fontana’s workout.
Roselyn and Jennette scrabbled in a corner, the older woman trying not to let her shot arm impede her and the younger woman doing her damnedest to take advantage of it, hitting it at every chance. Roselyn tried to keep it out of sight, but the scrappy blonde just went for it more.
“Sucks to not be a softpaw, huh?” Jennette cackled, punching the woman in the jaw.
Jennette found out a moment later that while Roselyn’s arms were flawed, her legs weren’t; the leader wrapped them around the girl’s waist, pinning her. Before Jennette could respond, Roselyn pinned her to the floor, face down.
“I can still do this, girlie,” the leader spat, and furiously paddled Jennette’s butt with her right hand while using what strength there was in her left to get a grip around the furious blonde’s neck. “Oh, stop squirming… you love this…”
“No – I – DON’T!” Jennette lied, saying it several times over before she lost consciousness.
Swapping blows elsewhere in the room, Jennifer spotted the nightstick Sarah had taken from Shay, lying just out of reach. She struggled to put herself IN reach of it, but Kristen stamped a foot down on her hand.
“Uh-uh-uh… I fight fair,” the cheerleaderphobe chided, before kicking Jennifer in the side and swiftly sliding the nightstick over to a colleague.
Caught in Fontana’s embrace, Shay struggled to get free while marvelling at how strong this woman was; Fontana held her firmly with one arm and even found time to rub Miss Mitchell’s ass with her crotch while picking up the nightstick with the other. Then she let Shay go.
Long enough for Fontana to grab the other end of the nightstick, whip it up by Shay’s neck and bring her slamming back into contact, pressing it hard on her throat. Gurgling and fighting for breath, Shay desperately tried to push it back, but Fontana’s strength was no match for her at all.
As she kicked the air fruitlessly, she was swung around to where Sarah lay unconscious; Shay would have to look at her in her last moments, as a little reminder.
“Any last words, Mitchell?” Fontana rasped, thrusting the stick back harder.
Shay was unable to speak – because a shot rang through the room, followed by a rapidly cut off grunt from behind her. Fontana’s hands slipped off the nightstick, which rolled down Shay’s body and hit the floor shortly after her captor did. Shay and everyone else in the room looked in surprise at the door.
And at Emma Roberts, holding Scarlett Johansson’s smoking gun as if it was the first time she’d ever used one to kill. Which it was.
“We’re getting out of here,” she said, willing herself not to tremble before she pointed the gun at Kristen as the other members gathered behind or around her. “You, get off Jennifer.”
Kristen could see the gang’s cutting tools; she could reach down, get one and finish off this damn cheerleader – but that was the definition of bringing a knife to a gun fight. Glaring at Jennifer, she got off her and, Emma’s gun on her all the while, moved away.
Or started to; within seconds she was on the ground, having been sent to sleep by the trusty nightstick deployed by Shay, who’d quickly retrieved it.
Emma quickly locked the door and the women retrieved their tools to pick up where they left off, trying to put the deceased Fontana out of their minds and each with fingers crossed in their minds that they could get into the tunnels before the guards arrived. And before the unconscious women in the room came to…
* * * * * * * * * *
“Beaten by the cons my ass,” Jessica Alba muttered, as she and the half of the guards who were with her stood inside the maintenance section, watching Michelle Rodriguez and Lena Headey crowbarring the grille covering the opening leading to the tunnels. There were other entrances around the prison, but this one was the closest to the outlet; it also had two other bonuses – a) it didn’t require them to head over the wall and negotiate a path to the exit from the outside, and b) it was inside, and therefore not freaking freezing. “If Scarlett doesn’t make it…”
“Suppose they’re already out?” asked Jordana Brewster.
“They can’t run that fast,” Jane Lynch chided, as Michelle and Lena gave the grille one last shove each and sent it clattering aside.
“Put that out, Cattrall,” Jennifer Morrison snapped.
“You’re not the boss of me, Snow White,” Kim replied, reaching for her cigarette lighter.
“No, but I am,” Jessica pointed out, plucking the cigarette from between Kim’s lips and dropping it down the hole. “You can light up when we’re done.”
“That was my last one!” the other whined as Jessica started to climb the ladder down into the system.
“That was my last one!” Carey Mulligan mimicked. “Use a patch, Cattrall – it’s better for you.”
“Or just quit,” Carly Chaikin suggested.
“Clean-living Chaikin, huh? Is that why you’re the second-best shot around here?”
“Second? Mulligan, you’ve got as much humility as you’ve got boobs,” chided Carly as she headed down.
“Fine, we’ll let the San Fran Eight decide,” said Carey. “Whoever gets the first one who comes out is top gun around here.”
“Oh, you are SO on.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Milla Jovovich was a strong believer in taking opportunities when they were given. She had been the first to come to, and her first instinct had been to get out of there.
But then she’d seen Nicki Minaj right where she wanted her – face down, ass up, and completely quiet. Seeing that Phoebe Tonkin was stirring and being by nature a sharing soul, she’d gently roused her up and invited her to join in the bounty – “Acres and acres of jungle-girl meat there, and all ours,” Milla had cackled.
Phoebe had seen the logic behind her colleague’s reasoning, and was soon tugging down Nicki’s uniform in preparation for the kind of midnight feast the writers of British boarding school stories never wrote about.
If nothing else, at least Milla and Phoebe had the memory of Nicki’s exposed rump to masturbate to when Cate Blanchett, several other guards and their guns turned up to play the role of cockblock.
* * * * * * * * *
Jennette’s eyes fluttered open, her body taking in how Roselyn’s legs were no longer keeping her in check. Reflecting on how warm her asscheeks were (“Not bad,” she couldn’t help thinking), she also reflected she wasn’t alone; Sarah was still out cold, though probably not for much longer judging from how she was getting slapped by Charlize Theron. Fontana was lying there and she wasn’t going anywhere, and Kristen was… wait, where was Kristen?
The open panel in the floor gave her, and the guards dropping into it, the answer.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kristen Stewart could move fast. She didn’t know the exact route they were taking, but she knew what direction to go in. And since no one else was with her, she had no one to slow her down.
“I’m coming for you, Lawrence,” she said to herself as she sprinted.
* * * * * * * * * *
As the gang raced through the tunnels on the other side towards the western outlet, Hayden had suggested that they try and sing to keep their spirits up; Roselyn nixed this, pointing out they didn’t know how close the guards were behind them (“We can sing when we’re in the van. Well, some of us can,” Roselyn added, with a little laugh as she eyed Megan, who simply rolled her eyes).
“Besides, isn’t getting out of here enough to perk anyone up?” Shay added as she and Emma kept their torches spanning the floors and ceilings, the better to keep from stepping in anything unpleasant.
Emma stopped her beam as she spotted something near her foot; it was a small object, not disgusting in and of itself but….
“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, picking it up and looking it over.
“What is it?” Roselyn asked.
“It’s a cigarette.”
“Since when do you smoke?” Megan added.
“I don’t,” Emma replied, rolling the cigarette between her fingers. “But Cattrall does. It’s her brand.”
Emma and Shay stared at each other as they and the others put two and two together, and both shouted “That BITCH!”
“Which one? It’s a crowded field in this place,” Jennifer said.
“Grace!” Shay explained as she and Emma turned around. “She must’ve told the warden…”
“They’ve got to be all waiting for us on this side!” Emma added.
“Lead on, ladies,” Roselyn told them as the gang started off on the new route, heading faster now they had more area to cover.
“Winslet might’ve stuck people on the far end as well!” Blake gasped. “If she did…”
“Well, it won’t be the first time tonight we’ve had to fight,” Olivia said grimly. “Just hope it’ll be the last.”
* * * * * * * * *
The pipe that let the waste from Remy Hadley out had nothing barring it from the winds rushing around the mountain.
The guards stood side by side within the pipe a few feet away from the exit, wishing the late night wind wasn’t blowing behind them but glad nothing liquid was flowing around their feet. To a woman, their weapons were out and ready to be brought up and fired; the second the gang came through it would be goodnight.
Carly Chaikin glanced at Carey Mulligan, whose finger was curled so tightly on the trigger of her gun she was almost in danger of firing right there.
“Patience, ladies,” Gemma Arterton said. “There’ll be plenty for all of us…”
* * * * * * * * * *
The other team of guards followed Cate as she raced through the tunnels, the head guard hoping that the convicts could hear the footsteps catching up. All she could think of was catching up to that bunch of dykes and putting them in their place once and for all.
She was so intent on finding them that she had no idea she had outpaced the other guards; the thought of dealing with them had taken precedence over everything. She could almost smell them – that Cuban woman, the driver with the tattoos, that damnable Blake…
As Cate rounded a corner, she was taken aback by what she saw.
But only briefly. Then the professional in her immediately took over, and she waited for the torchbeam to pick out what was in front of her as she gripped her nightstick in preparation.
The torchlight stopped at Cate’s feet, and moved up sharply – and Emma Roberts’s face started as she found herself staring into the depths of hell via Cate Blanchett’s eyes.
“BLANCHETT!!!” the girl screamed as Cate grabbed her arm. “DETOUR!”
An instant later, pain exploded through Emma’s sternum as the head guard smashed her stick against it. “You and that little blonde slut had the nerve to use me in your twisted little fantasies? ME?!?”
Cate slugged Emma’s stomach again. “No one treats me like that. NO ONE!”
“Hey, you should be glad SOMEONE wants to fuck you!” the safecracker gasped.
“I hear you like working without clothes,” Cate said grimly. “Since you were born naked, you can die that way as well…” And hitting Emma again, she began to pull at her uniform.
“Don’t rip it, it’s the only one I’ve got,” the young woman sneered as she helped Cate take it off. “You couldn’t wait for this, could you?”
Cate’s eyes somehow became even colder as she brought back her nightstick. “Excuse me, Roberts?”
“Oh, come on – I know a closet case when I see one,” Emma panted, grabbing Cate’s forearm before the stick could make contact with her body again. “Now Blake Lively, she’s the real deal – but you? I bet you lie in bed with your pussywhipped husband just thinking about some of those hot guards like Arterton and Alba…”
“Stop it,” Cate said flatly.
“Or maybe join in the fun with one of us? Hayden told me she’d like to get her hands on some sweet Blanchett booty and I think you’d like it as well…”
“Stop it,” the guard repeated more forcefully.
“Or maybe it’s *some* of us?” Emma continued. “A little orgy out in the bleachers – Megan working your tits, Roselyn doing your back door, me getting a taste of Down Under… come on, if you really hated being here with all us sexy ladies you’d have transferred long ago… you love it, admit it.”
“STOP IT!” Cate shouted, forcing the stick closer to Emma.
“Your wish is my command, Cleopatra Queen of De-nial,” Emma Roberts cooed, and spat in Cate Blanchett’s eyes.
The sudden move made Cate let go of Emma, who rapidly retrieved her uniform and sprinted away; as the guard wiped her eyes clear in fury, she saw that said uniform was on the ground a few feet away, down another turning. Emma must have dropped it in her bid to escape. With a snarl, Cate ran down that pathway at speed, knowing that there was nowhere else for her to go.
Down the tunnel she pounded, racing with her eyes on the alert for Emma Roberts’s bouncing behind which she was looking forward to filling with bullets the second it got in range, heading towards the chilly opening, spotting several women in uniform standing there with their WHAT THE FUCK–
An instant later, Carey Mulligan won the bet.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shay and Emma had taken in the details of the entire system, including possible alternate ways to where they had to be. It was one of those alternates that Shay had led the others to, and which Emma Roberts was heading for to catch up with them when she heard the gunshots.
It was even colder without the uniform she’d rapidly dropped as a decoy for Cate, but it had been worth it. Scratch one Blanchett…
* * * * * * * * * *
Several yards away, Jaime heard the gunshots and grinned.
Then they suddenly stopped, and the grin vanished. Unless the guards didn’t believed in wasting bullets there was no way they could have gotten nine of them in such a short time – something had gone wrong, but she wasn’t about to keep going this way to find out what.
Jaime started to run toward the other exit; Emma and Shay weren’t the only ones who’d memorised the entire system, and she had the quickest way through by heart. There was no way she’d be able to get to them before they left, but she could still catch up on the way down…
* * * * * * * * *
“We had to run into something sometime,” Roselyn reminded Jennifer. “It *is* a sewer…”
“No, I think a rat ran over my foot. I hate rats.”
“How do you feel about safecrackers?”
It wasn’t like their smiles immediately lit up the darkness, but everyone’s spirits rose on hearing and seeing Emma Roberts catch up with them; it was the second bit of good news the gang had gotten in the last few minutes. The first was that they were almost at the exit – they could feel the Sierra Nevada air starting to hit them. None of them had wanted to be outside after midnight far above sea level so much in their lives.
“Nasty,” Hayden told Emma as she saw the bruises Cate had left decorating her body.
“It’s not like I can’t walk,” she replied. “Just wish I hadn’t had to leave my tools.”
“So am I the only one here wondering why Emma’s naked?” asked Olivia.
“Yes,” said… all the others.
“C’mon, didn’t you see the news about her when we got caught?” Shay asked.
“I didn’t catch most of it,” Olivia told her. “I was too busy getting FRAMED FOR MURDER.”
“Oh shit, sorry…”
It wasn’t an echo; Roselyn and the others had reached the mouth of the outlet, and all they had to do was step through it and be on the face of the mountain… once they’d cut through the meshwork that was covering the mouth.
“This wasn’t on the blueprints…” gasped Shay.
“Must’ve added this afterwards,” Megan added, looking at the latticed barrier. “At least it’s not too thick – shouldn’t hold us up long…”
“Shay, Blake, you’re the tallest – you two cut along the top and the rest of you go either side,” Roselyn said as she started to cut wires herself. “Just don’t get in each other’s way.”
“You sit this one out, Hayden,” said Blake as she began her work. “Your arm-“
“No way,” the small blonde snapped, crouching down. “I got this…. AIIIEEE!”
The others glanced in concern at Hayden as she gritted her teeth, trying to use her knife despite the pain in her arm. She managed to get her hand up, but it was costing her with every move.
“Blondie gave you an order,” Jennifer said briskly, gently taking the cutter from Hayden. “I’ll do it – I haven’t done anything to really help yet anyway.”
“You helped with Scarlett,” Megan pointed out.
“Call it fringe benefits,” Jennifer laughed.
Watching as the others worked on the fencework, Hayden was also looking back periodically into the darkness of the tunnel, hoping against hope that there wouldn’t be lights and footsteps approaching. She couldn’t spend another night in this place, not now they were so close to escape – but there was someone else after them, and at least if it was the guards she’d get to see sunrise. If it was Jaime bursting out of that tunnel, that hellish way to fuck death in her hand…
Her nightmare scenario vanished from her mind as Emma called, with Shay and Blake pushing the enormous piece of cut mesh out of the mouth of the tunnel. It immediately folded out and hung down outside as Shay climbed over the metal, followed by Blake. There was a slight drop from the mouth onto the ground of the slope, but it wasn’t inclining enough for any risk of tumbling away.
With Hayden’s exuberant “YES!” behind them, they were the first two to step onto the rock and stone of the mountain.
“You’re not gonna believe this, but I’ve been out like this on colder nights,” Emma laughed as she jumped down.
“I’ll warm you up when we’re in the van,” Shay assured her.
“Are they *always* on?” Olivia asked as she went next.
“Yes, but you get used to it,” Blake replied.
“We should have been further down by now,” Roselyn muttered, close behind.
“And I slowed you down,” Hayden grumbled.
“Seven don’t cut much slower than eight,” Megan told her as she helped her down and they joined the others. Though there were a few clouds in the sky, they’d been blessed with a full moon and that, combined with the torches from Emma and Shay in front, meant their journey was a little safer. Only a little – they were still climbing down a mountain at night – but safer.
Jennifer put a leg onto the hanging-down fencing and prepared to jump down to join the others and finish the lineup… and a fist grabbed her uniform, tugging her back around to the shock of her and the group.
“And where do you think YOU’RE going, young lady?” snarled Kristen Stewart.
“GO!!! I’LL CATCH UP!!!” Jennifer yelled down to the others before Kristen yanked her back inside the tunnel and smashed a fist into her mouth.
“In your dreams, Lawrence,” Kristen spat, following up her fist with another crack across Jennifer’s face; but as Miss Lawrence stumbled she clutched her enemy, and both women smashed onto the concrete by the exit, tearing at each other until Kristen climbed on top, slapping her.
“How come you hate cheerleaders anyway?!” yelled Jennifer, wishing that there was something – ANYTHING – she could have used around here as a weapon. But there wasn’t even a rock there; the whole thing was clean as a whistle.
“Because they make me sick!” Kristen shouted, tugging at Jennifer’s hair. “Those girls all sashaying around halfnaked and getting everything they want just ‘cause of how they look, and my mom and sisters telling me to be just like them and keep the line going… and then I go and lose my second boyfriend to one! The first one wasn’t so bad, at least he dumped me for a med student, but to lose to a damn cheerleader?!”
Jennifer howled as Kristen snapped one of her fingers; the girl was well and truly in the zone.
“But I showed him. Oh yeah, I showed him what he was giving up,” Kristen continued, digging her nails into Jennifer’s arms. “Sweet little Tiffany Collins, wagging her hot little body all over the place… sweet little Tiffany’s cute, empty head…”
Kristen swiped her fingers across Jennifer’s chest, getting another little cry from her as the nails raked through the cloth to the skin and leaving a few red streaks on her breasts.
“Sweet little Tiffany. She was my first, and you *ain’t* gonna be my last… picking up where I left off when I get out, and all thanks to you and your friends…”
Jennifer’s top half was trapped under the demented blackhaired woman, but her legs were free; it was these that she swung up, wrapping her calves and knees around Kristen’s legs from behind. She thrust them aside and threw Kristen off, rapidly unwrapping and slamming a foot into the enemy’s chest, following it with a rapid kick onto her head. Quickly Jennifer scrambled around and cracked a fist across Kristen’s face, ignoring her hands clawing on her.
Jennifer clutched Kristen’s neck and shoulder and wrenched her around, smashing her onto the ground and elbowing the back of her head. Before Kristen could get up, Jennifer had bounded up and pounded both her feet onto her enemy’s back, knowing one of Kristen’s arms was underneath and taking pleasure in the yell that ensued.
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, CHEERLEADER!!!” Kristen shouted before Jennifer kicked her mouth, breaking a few teeth and reducing what she was saying thereafter to muffled as Jennifer kicked and thumped her opponent into obvlion.
“That’s head cheerleader, Kristen,” Jennifer panted after one last blow, glancing down at the stilled opponent. “You don’t fuck with the head of the team.”
“That’s what I told my girls as well,” ex-head cheerleader of her school Jaime Pressly cackled behind her.
Before Jennifer had time to react, Jaime plunged the device into her back.
* * * * * * * * *
None of the ladies had wanted to leave Jennifer there, but the longer they stopped the more chances the guards had to catch up. Even though they weren’t at the summit of K2 it was still a long way to the bottom, and with three of them injured it was making it trickier. And it was only a matter of time before they started swinging the searchlights to sweep the mountainface…
“If we move across instead of going down we could get to the river and take the rapids the rest of the way,” Shay suggested.
“Tell me you’re joking,” Olivia shuddered, trying not to give in to her aching leg.
“Relax, she’s kidding. We’re still on the worst part of the mountain,” Emma called from in front. “Stay on this route and it WILL get easier. And keep talking…”
Singing was out of the question, but talking was easier and let them keep track in the increasing darkness – neither Shay nor Emma could afford to take their eyes off what was in front of them for an instant. For the time being each woman had to negotiate down the route with varying degrees of difficulty; Roselyn, Hayden and Olivia had all refused constantly offered support at first, but after Olivia had almost slipped once she had found herself sticking closer to Roselyn (whose legs had not been hurt), and Blake was watching Hayden like a hawk; she too had lost her footing, but Blake had gotten her, and she hadn’t missed the little smile Hayden had given her.
Which left Megan bringing up the rear, not liking the clouds in the night sky; they weren’t blocking the moonlight, but if it started to rain while they were up there and still not on the gentler ground walking could get worse, and then some of them might get to the bottom a LOT faster than they wanted. And Megan Fox was not great with climbing.
She took a few more steps onwards, focusing on Blake Lively. The thought that she could check out the blonde’s butt all the way down took her mind off her situation.
And then a forearm clamped around her neck, with a bloodied triple-bladed device in its hand, and Megan’s dreams were over.
“I’m BAAAACK,” Jaime Pressly whispered. “Don’t scream, wheelgirl…”
Megan froze up, knowing Jaime could only have come out through the other outlet and wishing that the blood on the blades didn’t belong to who she thought it did.
“Oh, Jennifer… no….”
“Oh yes,” Jaime sneered. “And you might be next.”
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, Tats,” Jaime sneered. “You get a choice – you can get it like this…” she jabbed the tips of the device against Megan’s side before she pointed out into the darkness. “Or you can jump. And it ain’t like they’re coming back to save your butt…”
She jabbed Megan again. “It’s a long way down, and they’ll all get there before me, but I ain’t gonna give ‘em a chance. And I know you’re thinking you can fight, but I know just where to stick this… now you wanna pick, or should I do it for you?”
The decision was out of Megan’s hands; she, Jaime, and all the other escapees, whirled their heads around at that sound. Taking it in at once, the driver wrenched her arm free of Jaime and got out of the way of the plummeting Jennifer Lawrence.
Fighting the pain of the wounds in her back, she had crawled out of the exit and started down slope, gingerly picking her way down with her own torch and spotting Jaime approaching Megan. She knew there was no way she could get to them in time at her walking speed, but she also knew Jaime was like the Terminator – she absolutely would not stop, ever, until Megan and the others were all dead.
There was only one chance – Jennifer started tumbling down the slope, unable to stop, but able to shout…
Megan got out of the way in time, but as Jennifer smashed into Jaime the blonde lost her footing and dropped the device before she could use it on Miss Lawrence. Both convicts followed it an instant later, tumbling over and over downhill… before they hurtled over the edge and plunged into the darkness, as their screams blended into one before fading quickly.
The remaining seven stared in shock where Jaime Pressly and Jennifer Lawrence had been a moment ago; only some faint moans broke through to them from several yards downhill.
“Is that…” Blake asked, in dread.
Another low set of groans wafted up to them, in a different register.
“Holy fuck… they’re both alive?!” Olivia said.
“Maybe Jaime’ll snuff it before they find her,” Emma added bitterly. “Hope Jennifer uses her body to keep warm…”
“Maybe she’ll do it before they find us,” Roselyn urged. “We have to keep moving.”
“Yeah,” Shay agreed. But she still glanced outwards and downwards as she returned to leading the prisoners, mentally sending a little note to whatever was out there and hoping that Jennifer would be okay.
She wasn’t the only one.
* * * * * * * * * *
Half an hour later the clouds finally broke, bringing chilly rain to the area.
It cut through the floodlighting that covered the mountainface and drenched the guards, all combing the territory in search of the escapees.
The rain slashed through the air and spattered over the ground, and over a Ford E-Series van.
And the seven women racing towards it.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kate and Grace’s ears pricked up when Jessica Alba’s voice filtered through the speakerphone.
“Did you get them?” the warden asked hopefully, leaning forward to get all the details. “They HAD to come through there…”
“We got them.”
“Excellent – Sanchez and her friends are dead?”
“The other team got Sarah Shahi and her sidekicks,” Jessica corrected. “Kristen Stewart gave ‘em the slip at first but they got her by the outlet. They’re all heading back to their cells – lot of bruises all round, but nothing—“
“What about the main gang, Alba?”
“We heard them coming and opened fire the second the first one came through. And…”
“Yes?” Kate said eagerly.
“We… er… we shot Cate Blanchett,” Jessica answered hesitantly.
“Oh, what a shame,” Grace said airily.
“You did WHAT?!?” Kate shouted. “You killed one of us?!”
“She took about twenty bullets before we could stop shooting… I don’t know how she’s still alive. Must be all the hate in her.”
“Blanchett’s alive?” asked Kate.
“She’s a fighter,” Jessica asserted.
“Oh, what a shame,” Grace said again, sounding like she meant it this time.
“Tell me you managed to stop those robbers,” the warden said, clenching her fists.
“We found Jaime Pressly and Jennifer Lawrence; they took a fall down the side. About a hundred feet or so…”
“Are they dead?” Kate asked.
“No – they’re hurt but they’ll be okay.”
“Shit. And the others?”
“They… got away. By the time we got down the mountain they were gone… Warden? Warden?”
Jessica was speaking to a dialtone, as Kate hung up and began to make another call.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was cold outside, but inside it was warm. In Rhona Mitra’s mansion, it was especially warm.
Rhona prided herself on her steady hand as she held the phone, recording Rosie Huntington-Whiteley bathing and humming to herself; part of her wished she could find a way to put this online. Her girl’s body was too beautiful to keep to herself (Rosie herself had asked Rhona several times if she could do some nude shots – even though Rhona figured this was something else Rosie was actually good at, she’d told her not yet).
Seeing the lotion being rubbed all over Rosie’s small breasts made Rhona want to fling the cameraphone aside and join her. Up and down the image moved, taking in all of her sylph-like body.
“You are incredible,” Rhona sighed, capturing her beloved’s face.
“I’d do anything for you, Roni,” Rosie giggled. “Even blow your—“
“Near, far, wherever you are…”
As Celine Dion interrupted that line of thinking, Rosie’s eyes lit up even more. Rhona’s narrowed as she took the other phone from her trousers – unlike Rosie she hated the song and film. “This had better be important,” she said stiffly, still watching her girlfriend.
“We may have a problem on our hands…” Kate said on the other end, feeling it would be a very long time before she could sleep with Rhona’s hot little girlfriend again. If ever.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Whooo, looks like Rhona’s gonna have your boobs for breakfast!” Grace cackled when the warden hung up.
“And YOURS, Park,” Kate hissed. “And when she’s done with whatever remains of those mosquito bites you call your breasts, they’ll be shared.”
“I am going to see to it that you have a VERY hard time in Remy Hadley from now on,” the warden explained, getting up and going to her cabinet. “Starting with making sure Leighton Meester tells everyone about your Teacher’s Pet tendencies.”
“Shouldn’t she be dead by now? Damn snitch…”
“She would be, but her parole is going to be approved in the next couple of days. And the protection both she and you received up to now expires the second she leaves. Expires for you, that is.”
The floor suddenly felt very unsteady underneath Grace. Looking nervously at Kate as she took out a bottle and two glasses, she gulped.
“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘Oh, crap,'” the warden said calmly, pouring some whisky into the glasses and handing one to Grace before lifting up her own. “Salut.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Whoever said “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise” hadn’t figured on the FBI, Jessica Biel figured as she studied reports in her office. Being a Fed certainly hadn’t made her wealthy, coming in first every day – well, apart from the cleaners – didn’t do anything for her health, and if she was wise she’d have quit long ago. She didn’t even have a vacation to look forward to because she’d already used all her holiday time.
And she couldn’t even work it off by humping Beverley Mitchell. At least not until she and the other Musketeers (also known as Kristen Bell and Tammin Sursok) got back from checking out that club in LA; Jessica had half-expected to get a call from the La-La Land office telling them that BJ and/or Beverley was in a holding cell or hospital… no love lost between those two, especially now that she was Agent Mitchell.
As if Fate was cueing it up, her phone rang. Glad to have an excuse not to go over reports for a few minutes, Jessica snatched it up, expecting for a second that they had indeed come to blows. Again.
“Biel here… Mm-hmm… No, the agents on the case are on another assignment… WHAT!?! When the fuck did THIS happen?… I’m on it. Thanks for letting me know.”
The second the phone went back in its cradle, Jessica was dialling Kristen. It didn’t matter whether or not they were done in LA, and it didn’t matter how much of a prima donna Miss Pancake Chest could be – the San Francisco Eight Minus Two Plus One were out and heading home, and Biel needed Bell and Beverley… and she supposed BJ… back on base. Now.
* * * * * * * * *
“This Is A Channel 7 Special Bulletin!”
JoAnna and Jason had been enjoying their evening at home so far; he’d managed to make dinner without messing something up for the eleventh time in a row – a new record – and she’d been thinking over their last upcoming vacation as a non-married couple now that she’d finally set a date. And then the announcer had crashed in.
“Oh, it’s probably something from the Governor,” Jason said airily. “He picks his nose and someone thinks it’s a big deal…”
The graphics dissolved to show the newsdesk, and a professional-looking young blonde sitting there. Jason’s attention got caught, and so was JoAnna’s; if Ashley Benson was fronting it instead of Tony Romano, it had to be something big. Channel 7 didn’t waste billboards on people lumbered with filler.
“It has been confirmed that seven prisoners have escaped from the Remy Hadley Correctional Facility for Women upstate,” Ashley said. “Six of them are members of the group known as the San Francisco Eight…”
As pictures of the escapees filled the screen JoAnna gulped, and Jason eyed his soon-to-be-wife with concern. Even though that Pressly psycho wasn’t among the prisoners, that didn’t mean they might not want to take out the last six months on her or anyone else who’d sent them up.
“They’re not going to get you, JoAnna,” he assured her. “I promise.”
Before she could reply, the theme from “NCIS” burst forth from her jeans pocket – what a time to get a message. “Hang on, I gotta see this…” she said, taking out the phone.
“Not a problem – take your mind off the news,” Jason nodded as JoAnna looked at the screen, nodded and rapidly texted a reply, before pocketing the phone.
“That was Lorraine Myers,” she said casually.
“The one who can’t belch without telling you about it? Why do you hang around with her all the time?” Jason sighed.
“It’s a woman thing. You wouldn’t understand… come on, let’s go and have some fun before this turns into a fight.”
“What kind of fun?” Jason asked, smiling.
JoAnna made a very familiar gesture involving a thumb-index finger circle with one hand and the index finger of the other, smiling back. That was the kind of thing she wouldn’t have done last year; she was getting to the perfect balance, not exactly planning threesomes but not quite such a prude either – sometimes she even swore when they had sex now. Jason suspected that the hostage incident had changed something in her, made her just a bit eager to lighten up in some ways, but he knew better than to bring that up around her.
“You’re getting filthier every day,” he laughed. “First you let me take dirty pictures of you and now this. What would your mother say?”
“Probably something like ‘You go to your room, JoAnna Leanna Garcia,’” JoAnna replied, giggling as she got up. “Now come on, let’s do what Mom says…”
As she led him upstairs, she had her mind mostly on what was about to happen – and partly on the message; “Did you see the news?” had come from a female friend, but not Lorraine. Her reply – “Yeah; fire up stage 2” – was on its way to Troian Bellisario, who would soon be on her way to meet the crew once they arrived in the City by the Bay. Their meeting place had been passed on to the others by Shay, who’d received it as a PS in the last letter she’d gotten from JoAnna.
JoAnna told herself the rising heartbeat and wetness in her crotch as she and Jason entered the bedroom and began to undress were because of him, and they were.
* * * * * * * * * *
The women spent most of their first day as escapees asleep.
Megan had driven as long as she could before the adrenaline ran dry; they managed to get the van off the road and hidden before getting some rest, which was easier for some of them than others. But each one had managed to sleep before late afternoon, when Megan came back from the Land of Nod first and chose not to wait until the rest were awake before starting it up.
Heading down the road, Megan kept it going as close to the limit as possible; their ride wasn’t stolen, but the last thing they needed was a speeding ticket. Either Pete or Rachel had made sure the tank was almost full, so they wouldn’t have to stop for anything else – bladders willing.
Sitting next to her, Roselyn was glad that this one had air conditioning (UNLIKE the cargo van Rhona had lumbered them with); she didn’t like having car windows open at night. Way too cold. And her arm was almost numb from the blood loss – which was why she was another member of the Torn Uniform club; on getting inside the first move was to get some strips off and bandage up her wound.
Handing out some eagerly-grabbed snacks, Olivia smiled wearily at Emma and Shay, and at Blake and Hayden sitting behind them.
Holding Emma’s still trembling hand – whether from the temperature or because she’d killed Fontana, she didn’t know and didn’t want to ask – Shay turned to give her ex-cellmate a reassuring glance and smile. And widened her eyes when she saw Blake was holding Hayden’s tiny hand as if her life depended on it.
“Still got the details of that place?” Roselyn asked Shay
“Right here,” she assured the leader, tapping her chest.
“But we HAVE to get you guys fixed up somewhere,” Blake added.
“As soon as five of us draw straws,” Megan said.
“For what? And how come five? There’s seven of us,” Olivia pointed out.
“Well, you want Rosie,” Emma told Olivia, “and Hayden here has dibs on Ashley Benson, so you two are kinda disqualified.”
“From what?” Hayden asked, already knowing the answer.
“From choosing who gets to kill Rhona Mitra,” Roselyn said calmly.