The whore had pictured herself continuing to climb the corporate ladder even higher as the silver
haired man had withdrawn himself from her and zipped himself up, leaving her laying gap legged on the
couch, her pussy leaking his semen onto the expensive leather upholstery.
Rashanta remembered how the smell of sex hung in the air in Paul’s corner office and the sticky wetness
between her legs. She’d made some more small talk and told some more lies and hurried to elevator.
The colored woman had felt so used as she stepped into the lobby that evening on her way out the
door. She’d realized she’d left her panties in his office at the same time the gray haired black security
guard had said ‘good night, Miz Wallace’ to her as she passed his desk near the main entrance.
The slender negro had realized she’d left more than just her underwear behind as she’d sat behind the
wheel of her Lexus. She’d known then that she’d also left her dignity and self respect in that white man’s
office. She couldn’t remember a time before that when she’d felt so much like a whore and it had
shamed her to her core. She was just a ebony, she’d thought. Nothing but a ebony bitch in a business
suit. Silent tears had rolled down her cheek and his slime continued to seep out of her onto the driver’s
seat.
Rashanta looked across the interview table at the weasely white man who apparently represented her
best hope of ending this nightmare. Alone and friendless, locked in a jail in place she’d never heard of
and was anxious to forget, she knew she was in desperate straits. And desperate straits required
desperate actions.
At least Mr. Davidson had been attractive, she thought. Sam Woodward was anything but that. But she
valued her freedom even more highly than the fancy job her body had earned for her in the vice
president’s office. It was all too obvious to her that she didn’t have much choice.
“Ok,” sighed Rashanta. “What do you want me do?”
“You can start by taking that gown off” said Sam, grinning at her. “Orange doesn’t look good on you.”
The black woman felt the tears of shame welling in her eyes. She stood and pulled the orange prison
gown off over her head, exposing her naked body to the now sweating white man. He slowly took in the
sight of her firm breasts, hard nipples, flat belly, and hairy bush.
“Turn around,” said Sam in a hoarse whisper.
Rashanta complied and turned her back to him. Her face was hot with humiliation. A tear rolled out of
one eye, leaving a wet track across her cheek. The seedy lawyer drank in the view of her bubble butt and
full brown thighs.
“Damn, but you’re mighty fine lookin’ for a colored girl,” Sam said at last. “Mighty fine indeed. Come
here, girl. Sit in my lap.”
“Is that all you want?” she asked, the contempt in her voice unmistakable. “Ok, then, I’ll do it.”
She stepped towards him, her shoulders slumped.
“Why do you have to be so negative, girl?” he responded, peeved. “I wanted to start this off all friendly
and you go an’ act like that!”
“Let’s just get this over with, ok?” Rashanta said with resignation.
“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, we can skip the amenities,” replied Sam. “Get on your knees,
bitch. Get on your knees and suck my dick.”
Any hint of friendliness in the attorney’s manner evaporated. He stood up and put his hands on his hips,
looking right into her face.
The black woman had always hated performing oral sex on her lovers. It was utterly degrading. To put
her face at the level of his crotch. To take his cock into her mouth. They always expected her to swallow
it, too. The thought of taking what came out of some man’s dick into her body disgusted her.
“What?” said the black woman, taken aback. “I will not!”
“You will if you want me to make those calls, cunt,” he said. “Personally, I don’t give a shit about taking
your case, I’ve got more than I can handle as it is. But I’ll take a blow job to make a phone call. Or the
next bitch will suck it instead. Whatever. So what’s it gonna be?”
Rashanta had no alternative. She needed to get word to her sister about her situation. This weasely
lawyer was her only chance at making that happen. She got on her knees in front of him and looked up
into his face.
“So, you wanna suck it, bitch?” he taunted her.
“I’ll do it,” she sighed. “I don’t have much choice.”
“No, you don’t, do you?” he sneered. “But with that attitude, maybe I’m not interested. Maybe I want
you to want it. Or at least act like you do. So let’s try it again. You wanna suck my dick, bitch?”
“Yes,” said the black woman.
“Yes, what?” prompted the lawyer.
“Yes, I want to suck your dick,” she said, feeling the tears welling in her eyes.
“Yes, you want to suck my dick, what?” he prodded.
Fuck! she thought. She was completely humiliated at being forced to beg for performing an act of utter
degradation. Her face was hot with the shame of it and she felt a lump in her throat. But she knew what
he wanted to hear.
“I want to suck your dick, sir,” she said at last. “Please.”
“That’s better,” he replied, triumphant. “Go ahead and suck it, bitch.”
Sam unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to his knees. He took his dick in his hand and started
slapping the side of her face with it. Physically, there was no pain from it, but emotionally she was
devastated at having to just take it.
“Get on with it!” he ordered, still dick slapping her in the face. “Get busy!”
His cock smelled of stale sweat and wasn’t completely erect, but she began to suck on it anyways. She
could feel it growing in her mouth. She sucked harder and the occasional slurping noise escaped.
“That’s the way,” murmured the lawyer, “suck it good.”
The white man began bucking his hips, thrusting his cock into her mouth. The colored woman choked on
it and tried to pull back. But that only made him reach his hand around the back of her head, grabbing a
handful of her hair, and shoving it in even deeper. The negress gagged on it.
“Uh uh, girl,” he corrected her. “You’ll take it and like it. Or at least you’ll take it. I don’t give a shit
whether you like it or not.”
“Mmmmffff!” she responded, her mouth full of white cock.
Rashanta’s throat hurt as the tip of his dick kept banging into it. Her nose was in his pubic hair and his
balls hit her on the chin. Her eyes watered and she could feel herself drooling around his cock. But she
kept sucking hard in an effort to get him off quickly and end her torment.
Just then the door opened. The naked black woman looked up from her knees on the floor to see a
uniformed deputy standing in the doorway.
“God damn it, Hank!” exclaimed Sam, annoyed, his pants around his knees. “Can’t you see I’m with a
client!”
“Uh, sorry, Mr. Woodward,” he said, never taking his eyes off the debased negro woman. “You gotta
another one waiting…”
“I’ll be there when I’m through with this one,” he said. “Now get out!”
The white deputy leered at the kneeling negro woman for a moment and closed the door. Rashanta was
thoroughly humiliated at having been seen this way. She’d been forced to suck cock in the past to get
what she wanted, but she never had a third party watching her degradation.
Despite his reaction to the interruption, Sam seemed invigorated by being seen with her by the deputy.
Rashanta figured that he liked being seen by others exercising power over her this way. Him, standing,
mostly dressed, with his cock in his client’s mouth. Her, naked on her knees, servicing a virtual stranger.
The attorney fucked the negress’s face even harder for a few strokes and then abruptly pulled out and
grabbed his cock. She was startled by his action and started to look up at him. Suddenly he exploded
with a series of loud grunts.
One spurt of hot semen after another hit her as he ejaculated in her face. The first left a white streak
from her forehead and into her hair. The second caught her in the eye. The third on her cheek. Then he
put his dick back into her still open mouth and finished draining it down her throat.
Sam stood over her, gloating, for at least half a minute. Rashanta couldn’t look at him and hung her
head. Her eye burned from his sperm and his semen dripped off her face onto her chest and onto the
floor.
“See, I knew you’d be a good cocksucker,” the white man told her as he pulled his pants back up and
buckled his belt. “ebonys always are. I guess it’s just natural.”
The black woman remained on her knees, shamed and humiliated. She felt thoroughly used and
degraded. Far worse than she ever had with Mr. Davidson. Paul had at least tried to maintain the illusion
that she was his lover and not just a piece of fuck meat. Plus she’d never felt so desperate in giving in to
him the way she did now, giving into the weasely lawyer.
Sam gathered the papers on the table and opened the door. Rashanta looked up and watched as he
exited the room and left the door open. Anyone passing by could see her, kneeling naked on the floor,
her face coated with cum. A used whore.
Hank the deputy appeared in the doorway and looked down at her, leering as he had before.
“Well, ain’t you a sight!” he chortled gleefully. “I heard you were actin’ all high an’ mighty when you was
brought in. Look at you now! Just another nasty ebony whore. Like all the others we got in here.”
Rashanta hung her head back down and wept noiselessly from the shame of it. In the back of her mind,
she feared he was right. That that’s all she was in spite of all her efforts to lift herself higher.
“Get up off the floor onto your hind legs, girl,” he ordered her. “Time to put you back in your cage.”
The negress slowly stood up and grabbed her prison gown. She tried to decide whether to wipe her face
off on the gown or not. There was nothing else at hand to use.
“Let’s go!” said the deputy impatiently. “You can put that back on back in the cell. I ain’t got all day!
Move it!”
Rashanta started to wipe her face off as she walked. The deputy stopped her.
“Leave it alone, slut,” he ordered her. “You look better that way. Ain’t no doubt what you are now!”
The black woman was mortified. She had to follow the white deputy through the cell block, naked, her
face dripping with semen. The negress inmates laughed and and called to her as she walked by.
“Welcome to county lock up, bitch!” one shouted.
The others laughed. Rashanta was deeply shamed and tried to look straight ahead and ignore them and
their taunts. At last they arrived at her cell. The deputy opened the door.
“In you go,” he instructed her indifferently.
The negro woman stepped into the empty cell. Desiree was nowhere to be seen. She heard the door
clang shut behind her. She used a sheet to wipe the lawyer’s cum off her face and put her gown back on.
Then she just lay in her bunk and waited, staring up at the low ceiling..
She must have drifted off to sleep because the sound of the door opening again woke her up. She
looked up to see Desiree, naked, holding her gown in her hand. The white deputy was just shutting the
door. She watched as the big black girl shuddered at the metallic clang as the door latched. The deputy
walked away without saying anything. The fat negress put her gown back on.
“You ‘wake?” Desiree asked.
“Yeah,” replied Rashanta, rolling onto her side to face her.
“Thanks for givin’ me a break back there, girl!” the big girl said.
“Huh?” the slender negro woman was puzzled.
“With Woody!” Desiree went on. “The lawyer? Sam Woodward?”
“I know him, alright,” said Rashanta with disgust. “But I don’t know what you mean.”
“He said you blew him,” the fat negress explained. “You blew him so I didn’t have to. That white man’s a
nasty mother fucker.”
“I had to,” replied the older black woman. “He wouldn’t call my sister or my boss otherwise. No one
even knows I’m here! What else could I do?”
“Woody said he’d do somethin’?” chortled Desiree. “That be a first for that asshole!”
“He told me he’d call them if I… you know,” stammered Rashanta.
“Oh, yeah,” agreed the big black girl, “I know alright. Tell me, did he ask for a phone number? Or a
name?”
“Uh…,” the slender negress pondered. “No, he didn’t.”
“I’s sorry, girl,” said Desiree. “I’s sorry I laughed, ’cause it ain’t no joke. That white man ain’t gonna do
shit. Long as you here and you his client he be usin’ you, know what I’s sayin’?. He ain’t gonna do nothin’
to fuck that up.”
“That bastard!” exclaimed Rashanta. “That fucking bastard! I’m not gonna let him get away with it!”
“Ain’t nothin’ you can do, girl,” the big black girl told her. “You is fucked big time now an’ you gots to get
used to it. You gotta go along to get along. Ain’t no other way.”
“Like hell there ain’t!” the older woman replied, hoping what her cell mate said wasn’t true. “I can’t start
believing that or I might as well just give up.”
Rashanta rolled on to her back and tried to think of what she could do to get out of this hell hole she’d
found herself in. But the more she thought, the more she realized she was thoroughly trapped and
utterly helpless. She knew she was completely at the mercy of this place and there was absolutely
nothing she could do about it.
Chapter 3 – In Chambers
As the hours ticked by, Rashanta’s anger grew. The taste of the white attorney’s dick burned in her
mouth despite her attempts to wash it out. She vowed to herself that those responsible for her
humiliations would all be made to pay for it. All that was needed, she thought, was to get word out of
this god forsaken jail to her sister or her boss and her rescue was assured.
The slender black woman heard the sound of the cell door opening. She rolled over to see a deputy
standing just outside the bars. He looked like the same one who’d brought Desiree the stale donuts.
“Alright, ladies,” he said with a mocking tone, “on your feet. Time for your date with justice. We’ve got
to get you ready and run you all over to the courthouse for arraignment. Let’s shake it up!”
At last, thought Rashanta, this is the chance she needed. If they thought she’d be afraid to speak up in
court about the abuses she’d suffered here they were wrong. The black woman began considering
exactly how she’d tell the judge about what was going on here. The feelings of powerlessness she’d
been experiencing began to be replaced with the hope that comes with having a plan of action.
She and Desiree climbed out of their bunks and were walked down the corridor they’d been brought in
through. The deputy pressed the buzzer on the door that led to the examination room where they’d
been forced to undergo a full body cavity search the day they were processed in.
The door clicked and the deputy pushed it open and pushed his charges through it. Deputy Faldo was
waiting for them inside, holding the chains and cuffs they’d been shackled with on the trip from the
sheriff’s office to the jail.
“Miss me?” he asked, grinning at the hapless negro women.
Rashanta merely glared at him, saying nothing.
“Ok, be that way,” said the fat deputy with resignation. “Don’t matter no how. Standard procedure is to
transport prisoners in restraints.”
“I suppose you’ll watch as we change back into our clothes?” said Rashanta contemptuously.
“Hell, no!” the white man said cheerfully. “You bitches are goin’ over there ‘as is’. You won’t be needin’
those duds any time soon.”
Deputy Faldo stooped and fastened the cuffs to Rashanta’s ankles. Standing, he fastened the other pair
of cuffs to her wrists. The shortness of the chain connecting the wrist cuffs to the ankle cuffs forced the
slender negress to stoop slightly. She watched as he repeated the procedure on Desiree.
The white man hit the buzzer and in a moment the outer clicked. He pushed the door open and pushed
the negro women stooped and shuffling through it to the parking lot. Rashanta blinked in the bright
sunlight.
The slender black woman was humiliated at being forced to shuffle across the parking lot to the waiting
van stooped over with her ankles chained together. Ordinary people with business at the jail stopped
and stared at the two shackled negresses. She could feel the wind on her skin and between her legs. Her
breasts bounced freely. She was very aware of being naked under the orange prison gown and felt very
vulnerable and exposed. Her face burned with shame and anger.
The deputy opened the back door of the van.
“In you go, ladies,” he said jovially, slamming the door behind them after they entered.
Rashanta and Desiree climbed into the back of the van while passersby watched. They sat on the
benches inside as Deputy Faldo slammed the door shut behind them. They felt the van rock as he hefted
his weight behind the wheel. The engine started and they were moving.
“This isn’t right, Dee Dee,” Rashanta said after a few minutes. “They can’t treat people this way and get
away with it.”
“I don’t know what you think you gonna do ’bout it, girl,” Desiree replied. “It’s been like this long as I kin
remember.”
“It’s not legal, either,” the older woman informed her. “I think somebody just has to speak up.”
“You better watch yourse’f, girl!” warned the big black girl. “You don’t know what you messin’ wit’.”
Rashanta felt a little sorry for Desiree and the other black women who’d been treated like animals at the
jail by the deputies and that lecherous public defender. She silently vowed to put a stop to it.
The van pulled to a stop and shook slightly as Deputy Faldo climbed out and came around the back to
open the door. It had been dark inside so the sudden shock of bright sunlight caused the two chained
prisoners to to blink as they were led out into the parking lot by the courthouse.
Rashanta noticed a small crowd of onlookers watching as she and Desiree were led shuffling in their
chains from the van to the prisoner’s entrance to the building. Stooped over with her hands cuffed
together, she could feel her bare breasts swinging beneath the thin orange prison gown that was all that
covered her naked brown body. The short chain connecting her wrist cuffs to the chain between the
manacles on her ankles jangled as she moved. The gawkers only added to he humiliation and added to
her determination.
“Serves you right, you fat whore!” shouted a white teenaged boy standing in crowd of other boys. “Now
you goin’ where you belong!”
“Tha’s the sheriff’s boy,” said Desiree in a low voice. “Him an’ his damn friends.”
“Shut up, Dee Dee,” demanded Deputy Faldo. “Prisoners ain’t allowed to talk.”
“Who’s your friend?” the boy went on. “Kinda old, but she’s got a nice ass on her! Hey! You! You another
whore like Dee Dee? I can see your boobs shakin’, ebony! I got to have me some o’ that! How much for
me an’ my buds?”
The boy’s friends all laughed. Rashanta knew his comments were directed at her and she blushed in
spite of herself. She couldn’t understand how he was allowed to get away with it.
Deputy Faldo led his charges into the building and sat them on a bench.
“You ladies wait here ’til you called into court,” he told them. “No talkin’.”
The deputy went to a soda machine near the entrance door and bought a can. He sat down and drank it
while they all waited.
“Wallace!” a voice called into the room after about half an hour. “Wallace, grand theft auto!”
Deputy Faldo stood and came over to where the black women were waiting, sitting in chains on the
wooden bench. He removed the cuffs from Rashanta’s wrists and ankles and walked her through the
door into the courtroom.
The room was large with a high ceiling and tall windows along one wall. The room was fairly full of
people. Mostly white men in suits and ties, white ladies in similarly profession attire, and a few
uniformed deputies.
Rashanta noticed quickly that she was the only black face present. She felt even more exposed and
noticeable, clad only in her thin orange prison gown. She could feel the cool air conditioning wafting
between her legs on her naked pussy. Her nipples hardened and poked against the fabric. Her face was
hot with shame and she avoided eye contact with anyone.
The deputy walked her up to the front of the courtroom where Sam Woodward, the public defender,
waited for her. The judge, a white haired man with steel rimmed glasses, looked her over. The bailiff,
also gray haired, announced her.
“Case three fifty four, Rashanta Wallace, grand theft auto,” he called out.
“How do you plead?” asked the judge perfunctorily.
“This is just the arraignment, girl,” Sam whispered to her. “You best plead not guilty for now.”
Rashanta glared at him for a minute and then turned towards the judge.
“Not guilty, your honor,” she spoke clearly. “Your honor, may I speak?”
“Go ahead,” said the judge. “But be quick about it. I want to set bail and move on to the next case. We
got a busy morning here.”
“Your honor, I’m not from around here and I haven’t been able to contact my family or my work,” said
Rashanta. “My attorney is not looking after my best interests and I have the right to choose my own
counsel. Also the conditions at the jail aren’t right either. I have rights that aren’t being respected.”
“Sam?” the judge addressed the lawyer. “What’s all this about? You know I don’t like it when things
don’t go smooth.”
“I’m sorry, Judge White,” Sam apologized.
“I will take care of this now!” said the judge angrily. “Bailiff! Bring that woman to my chambers
immediately. This court is in recess for fifteen minutes.”
At last, thought Rashanta. Someone in authority in this place was going to listen to her. The gray haired
bailiff stepped forward and led the black woman towards a wood paneled door next to where the judge
was seated. He opened the door and followed her in.
The judge’s office was plushly furnished. Dark wood paneled walls and leather upholstered furniture
gave the room a look of formality. A large wooden desk with a high backed chair faced the rest of the
room. A minute after entering, the judge came into the room, removed his judicial robe, and hung it on
the coat race near the door. He sat behind his desk and looked at the colored woman standing before
him.
“Alright Miss… Miss…,” Judge White began. “Randy? What’s this girl’s name”
“Wallace, your honor,” answered the bailiff.
“Miss Wallace,” stated the judge. “What’s all this about? Is there a problem?”
“Yes, your honor,” said Rashanta with a measure of relief. “First off, this whole thing is just a
misunderstanding with a car rental place. I never stole anything. But the real issue is that I’ve been
prevented from contacting anyone from back home who’d be able to help me. My so called attorney
won’t help, either. It isn’t right.”
“I see,” the judge responded. “You say there’s a problem at the jail?”
“It’s deplorable, your honor!” the black woman replied, relaxing in the company of the first person
who’d listen to her. “Prisoners are subject to sexual harassment. Black prisoners especially. I was
stripped and searched without a female officer present. I wasn’t allowed any privacy even in the
bathroom! My cell mate was forced to perform a sexual act just to be given food! It’s outrageous! And
my attorney! That man wouldn’t agree to help me unless I submitted to him sexually! And even then he
did nothing! He should be disbarred and put in jail!”
“These are very serious charges, young lady,” said the judge.
Judge White rose from his seat and walked around to the front of the desk. Rashanta watched him the
entire way.
“Randy, I think you know what to do,” the judge said to the bailiff.
The gray haired bailiff grabbed the black woman by the shoulders and forced her to bend over, roughly
banging her head on the judge’s desk. She felt his foot hook the inside of her leg, forcing them wide
apart. She heard a zipper unzip and felt her prison gown lifted, revealing her shapely black bubble butt.
“I’m going to teach you how we do things here, girl,” the judge announced. “We don’t cotton to no
damn uppity ebonys.”
Rashanta felt the head of Judge White’s hard cock push between the cheeks of her ass, pressing up
against her asshole. She struggled in vain. The bailiff had her pinned down, bent over. She was
completely immobilized and utterly helpless. The judge jammed his dick hard up her ass.
“Owww!” cried the negro woman. “You’re hurting me! My god! You’re raping me!”
“Shut the fuck up, coon bitch,” growled Randy.
Rashanta felt him grab her hair with his free hand and press her face into the desk. She felt as if her ass
was being split in two. The judges cock was of average length, but it was thick. Her asshole felt as if he
might tear it open. He fucked her hard and fast, thrusting his entire length up the helpless negress’s ass.
“Shut up and take it,” the bailiff warned her, his voice filled with potential violence.
“Ohhh…,” she moaned in pain. “Please! I’m begging you to stop!”
Judge White only pounded himself into Rashanta harder. Tears streamed down the negro’s face. She felt
his cock far up her rectum. She had only consented to anal sex from Mr. Davidson in order to advance
her career. He at least had been somewhat gentle with her and she’d pretended to like it. Now she was
in agony as the white haired man used her brutally with no concern for her pain. In fact, her cries
seemed to excite him and cause him to hurt her even more.
“That’s it, cunt,” the judge said breathlessly. “Go ahead and cry. Nobody can hear you. And if they could,
they wouldn’t do anything about it except wait for their turn with you.”
The white haired man continued to fuck her relentlessly. The pain was excruciating and the black
woman sobbed as she was raped. Finally she felt him thrust even deeper inside her ass and pause. The
hot jets of semen she felt came as a relief indicating that her immediate ordeal was almost over.
“Oh, fuck!” the judge said, the exertion straining his voice. “Fuck! You dumb fucking monkey. You take it.
Take it up your ebony ass, you dumb cunt.”
At last Judge White withdrew from her defiled orifice. Rashanta’s asshole was throbbing with pain. She
felt the bailiff roughly pull her back up into a standing position. Only briefly, though, because next he
forced her down onto her knees in front of the judge, his flaccid cock inches from her face.
“Suck it, ebony,” ordered the bailiff. “Clean the judge’s dick off and do it now.”
“You bastards!” she cried.
Whap! The bailiff slapped the negro hard across the face knocking her to the floor.
“Stupid ebony!” the bailiff said with disgust. “Ain’t you learned nothin’ yet? Get up! Get up on your
knees and clean his honor’s dick off if you know what’s good for you!”
Shocked and sniveling, Rashanta got back on her knees. Tears still streaming down her cheeks, her nose
running. She took the judge’s foul member and started licking. The taste made her gag.
“You got five seconds to do like you’re told, bitch,” warned the bailiff.
The black woman opened her lips and slid the judge’s cock into her mouth. She closed her eyes and
sucked.
“That’s more like it, ebony,” said the bailiff, pleased at her submission. “You will learn your place and act
right.”
Rashanta licked his dick clean and looked up at him. The judge grabbed her by the hair and lifted her.
She struggled to her feet and faced him.
“Do we have an understanding now, girl?” the judge asked her without releasing his grip.
“Yes,” she said softly, looking down.
Judge White jerked Rashanta’s head up until their eyes met.
“Yes what?” he demanded.
“Yes, your honor,” said Rashanta, her voice cracking. “We have an understanding.”
“So I’m not going to hear any more of this nonsense in my courtroom?” asked the judge.
“No, your honor,” she agreed.
The judge turned to the bailiff.
“You want a turn with her, Randy?” he asked.
“Well, judge,” the bailiff replied. “You know I’d love to, but recess is almost up.”
“Maybe later, then,” said the white haired man. “Take her back out there.”
“Right away, your honor,” said Randy. “Let’s go, ebony.”
The bailiff walked the sniveling negro woman back into the courtroom. She knew she was trapped and
helpless now. The authorities. Her lawyer. Even the judge. She’d never been in a position that she
couldn’t use her body to her advantage. Now these men were just using it and she was getting nothing
in return. Nothing, that is, other than pain and degradation.
Randy left Rashanta standing next to Sam at the defendant’s table. The lawyer looked at her and
grinned. Suddenly she realized that the whole court must have heard at least some of the goings on in
the judge’s chambers. Her face was hot with humiliation. Her ass continued to throb with pain. She
could feel the semen leaking out of her asshole and dripping down her leg.
“Did the judge get you straightened out, girl?” asked Sam.
“Yes, he did,” Rashanta said softly.
“Good,” he grinned again. “I figured he would.”
“All rise!” called the bailiff as the judge entered from his chambers.
Judge White sat down and gavelled the court to order.
“Where were we?” he asked. “Was a plea entered?”
“Not guilty, your honor,” said Sam.
“Very well,” the judge replied. “Bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars, cash or bond. Next case.”
Judge White struck the gavel down and Deputy Faldo led Rashanta away back to the waiting room. He
sat her down on the bench and refastened her restraints. Desiree was nowhere to be seen. Sitting down
stretched her a little, sending a fresh jolt of pain through her body starting from her ass.
“Ass tender?” the deputy asked, grinning.
Rashanta looked at him, defeated.
“Well, they don’t call the judge ‘hard on Harry’ for nothing,” chuckled Deputy Faldo.
With that, the white deputy went back to his seat by the soda machine and picked up a newspaper
someone had discarded and started to read. The colored woman was left sitting on the bench in chains,
a searing pain in her ass and a wet spot on the back of her prison gown reminding her of how justice was
served in this town.
After about another ten minutes, Deputy Faldo went back towards the courtroom, returning a few
minutes later with Desiree. He put the big black girl in chains as he had Rashanta.
“That’s all the excitement for today, ladies,” he announced. “Time to head back to your cages now. Let’s
move it.”
Once again, Rashanta felt totally exposed as the deputy led the two negresses across the parking lot to
the van. Stooped and shuffling along through the gravel, her breasts jiggling with each step, the chains
clanking, she knew every eye was upon her and enjoying her humiliation.
The black woman’s desperate optimism upon arrival here had been replaced by devastating defeat. She
hung her head and didn’t look up at the onlookers this time and didn’t even listen to the taunts.
As the door to the van slammed shut, a single tear rolled down Rashanta’s cheek. She had no more ideas
of how she was going to get out of this situation. How could she bestow favors on men who could easily
just take them from her anyways?
“Din’t go like you thought, girl?” asked Desiree.
“I can’t believe what happened!” exclaimed Rashanta. “I told that judge about what was going on and he
called a recess. I thought he was going to listen to me! Instead he… Oh gawd, Dee Dee!”
“I know, girl,” the big girl attempted to console her. “That fuckin’ judge. Hard on Harry. He’s mean.”
“You know what happened?” Rashanta said, shocked.
“Shit yeah!” said Desiree. “It’s all over the courthouse. How old hard on boned you in th’ ass!”
“Oh my god!” cried the older woman. “That bastard raped me! And all those people knew it! And
nobody did shit about it!”
“You gots to understands this place, girl,” said the big black girl. “That’s jus’ the way it is ’round here.
Ain’t nothin’ nobody kin do ’bout it.”
More tears flowed, but no more words were exchanged between the two black women. Desiree realized
that she was only making her cell mate feel worse. Rashanta was beginning to understand just how
things worked in this town. The town she’d never intended to visit. The town she couldn’t escape from.
Chapter 4 – Plea Bargain
Sleeping fitfully, Rashanta dreamed of her old life. Driving her Lexus down the freeway to work, the sun
shining. After a bit she felt as if she was driving over cracks in the pavement, rhythmically shaking her
car.
Gradually the colored woman began to wake and the realization that she’d only been dreaming slowly
came into focus. She became aware of her new surroundings. The sight of the concrete ceiling with the
fluorescent light fixtures hanging from it replaced the visions of freedom she’d had. She was once again
in the real world. Laying in the top bunk in her jail cell.
But the shaking continued. The sounds of physical exertion, grunting and heavy breathing, emminated
from below. She just lay there and listened.
“Uh… Ahhh…,” she heard as the shaking slowed and stopped.
“That’s it, you fat bitch,” said a male voice. “That’s what a fat ebony is for.”
A minute later the bunk shook again and Rashanta could see a uniformed guard stand up in the cell, his
back towards her. He was buckling his belt and zipping up his fly. She noticed the cell door was ajar.
“Not bad, Dee Dee,” he said. “You still got that good pussy.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Desiree. “You want more, you know where to come.”
“That I do,” said the guard, letting himself out of the cell.
Rashanta’s cell mate stood up from her bunk, pulling the orange prison gown down from where it had
been bunched up under her arms so as to expose her large breasts. On the table in the cell was a pizza
box. Desiree opened it revealing two slices.
“Don’t tell me,” said Rashanta disappointedly, “you fucked that guy for a pizza.”
“The night guards ordered it,” explained Desiree. “Frankie gave me the leftovers. Fuckin’ him was jus’ my
way of showin’ my ‘preciation fo’ it. I gets hungry an’ we ain’t always be gettin’ breakfast on time. You
still got alot to learn, girl. I woulda thought you’d be learnin’ more by now.”
Rashanta could still feel the soreness in her ass where the judge had brutally raped her the day before in
his chambers as the bailiff looked on. That was a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget. Sadly, the colored
woman knew that the big black girl was right. She was going to get what she was going to get and might
as well start getting used to it.
“You want the other slice?” asked Desiree. “It ain’t bad even though it be cold now.”
The slender negress climbed down from her bunk and looked into the box. A slice of plain cheese pizza
sitting on a grease stained piece of cardboard. Her stomach growled. It’d been a long time since dinner
the night before. And that had just been a plate of plain macaroni.
“Thanks, Dee Dee,” said Rashanta.
The black woman took a bite of the cold pizza. It was the closest thing to normal food she’d eaten since
her arrival at the jail. Grits for breakfast, when she got breakfast, a processed cheese sandwich on white
bread for lunch, and macaroni for dinner had become the routine.
The morning ticked by and Rashanta was glad she’d taken the slice since it was becoming apparent
there’d be no other breakfast. A guard showed up and opened the door.
“Wallace,” he said. “Your lawyer’s waiting for you.”
Rashanta followed the white deputy to the small windowless room she’d met Sam Woodward in the day
following her arrest. The balding attorney looked up as she entered, the deputy closing the door behind
her.
“Good morning, Rashanta,” he greeted her, leering at her breasts, her nipples poking against the thin
material of her prison gown. “You’re looking none the worse for wear. Come sit over here next to me.
The district attorney’ll be dropping by shortly and you’re gonna need to be briefed on how to get him
softened up.”
The negress sat next to the lawyer without saying anything. He continued to drink in the vision of the
slender black woman.
“Ok,” he said at last, “I’ve already got him primed to agree to reduce the charges from grand theft auto.
Thing is, that could still be as much as a six month sentence. You’ve got to convince him you didn’t mean
to do it and make it clear how sorry you are and how you’re ready to do anything to make it right and
get your sentence reduced.”
“It’s the truth that I didn’t mean it,” said Rashanta. “And just what do I have to do to get the sentence
reduced?”
“Well,” smiled Sam, “I know you didn’t mean it, but you’ve got to convince the DA. He’s a good old boy
and understands how coloreds like you don’t know so much about complicated deals like car rentals and
the like. Plus he sure does enjoy having a fine negress like yourself suckin’ his dick.”
So, more blow jobs for these crackers, thought Rashanta. She realized now there was little choice in the
matter. She’d sucked cock for less important things than her freedom. The black woman recalled how
she’d dropped to her knees and took her boss’s dick into her mouth for a more prestigious parking
place, more befitting of her new position. She’d even swallowed.
“It wasn’t too complicated for me to understand!” objected the colored woman. “Those assholes didn’t
tell me I needed to sign anything else!”
“Now, now,” said the public defender patronizingly. “You won’t get anywhere with Jack with that
attitude. Your best bet is to put on your best country ebony voice and tell him you just didn’t know no
better. Slip off that gown, get on your knees, bat your big brown eyes, and lick those thick lips. Then get
ready to suck him off. That should get you down to a month or two, tops.”
Rashanta’s face grew hot with anger at the suggestion, and shame at the knowledge that she would
indeed have to do what her lawyer suggested. She hadn’t had much problem using her body to get what
she I wanted, but to put on a dumb act at the same time was thoroughly humiliating. But she knew she
had no alternatives other than to rot here for half a year.
The door opened and a tall slender grey haired man walked into the room. Jack eyed Rashanta, who
looked down at the table top, and then to Sam. He sat down across the table from the black woman and
her attorney, placing his brief case in front of him.
“Ms Wallace,” began the district attorney, “in the interest of saving the tax payers of this county the cost
of a trial we’re prepared to reduce the charges to using a motor vehicle without permission in exchange
for a guilty plea. I would recommend a sentence of six months because we take a dim view of what
you’ve done.”Black bbw mama nude 1
“Now, Jack,” said Sam. “Isn’t that just a little harsh? I’m just asking for a little flexibility. After all, this is
all a big misunderstanding according to my client. Isn’t that right, girl?”
The negress’s face flushed again at being called girl that way. She looked into Jack’s eyes and swallowed
hard and looked back down at the table.
“I’s sorry fo’ what I done, sir,” said Rashanta, feeling a lump in her throat. “I’s jus’ a dumb nigga an’ din’t
know no better. I din’t understands they weren’t done wit’ fillin’ out all them papers. I’s real sorry, sir.”
The black woman, shaking inside, looked up again to judge the district attorney’s reaction to her
statement. He seemed to have lost the stern look from his face that he’d come in with.
“I see,” said Jack. “So, you’re willing to testify to that fact under oath and take the plea bargain?”
“Yes, sir!” Rashanta answered. “But can’t you make it so I ain’t got to stay in the jail house so long? I be
so grateful if you can do that.”
“Well,” the DA replied, “the sentence isn’t cast in stone, I suppose. Just how grateful would you be?”
Rashanta took the cue and stood up. She bent and grabbed the hem of her prison gown and pulled it off
over her head, leaving it on the table. She was standing naked in front of the two white men, dressed in
their suits and ties.
Jack and Sam both looked the slender colored woman up and down, taking in the view of her chocolate
brown skin, her firm breasts, her bubble butt, and her long legs. She stepped around the table and knelt
in front of the gray haired district attorney.
“I’d love to suck your dick, sir,” Rashanta told him. “If you can drop my sentence to a month, I suck you
anytime you want.”
“I doubt Judge White will go for a month,” said Jack. “I’ll try, but you’ll likely still get two months. You’ll
suck it anyways. Won’t you, bitch?”
Bitch. The word was like a slap in the face to the negress but she had to take it and keep smiling at the
white man. Two months were better than six.
“Yes, sir,” said Rashanta. “I’ll suck you good, sir. You’ll see.”
“I’ll see right now, bitch,” said Jack, unzipping his slacks and taking his now erect dick out. “Suck it,
ebony.”
Her face hot with shame at having to submit to this treatment, Rashanta smiled stupidly and took the
district attorney’s cock into her mouth and started sucking.
Still, she felt almost as much in control as she did when she kneeled and sucked at work in exchange for
a prestigious title, a higher salary, and all the perks that went with it. Now she was doing it for a reduced
sentence, but it was still a trade off she was willing to make. She told herself she could have said no. Not
like her rape in the judge’s chambers or the humiliating stripping for the deputies.
She slurped noisily as the public defender looked on glassy eyed.
“That’s right…,” instructed Jack. “Bob your head now, ebony. Suck it good.”
Sam eyed Rashanta as she moved her head up and down over Jack’s cock. The district attorney looked
up and saw him watching the action.
“You want some of her, Woody?” he asked him.
“Fuck, yeah!” responded the balding public defender.
“Stand up and bend over, bitch,” Jack ordered Rashanta. “You better not let my dick come out while you
do it.”
The colored woman slowly rose and bent over, presenting her shapely black bottom to her lawyer. She
kept sucking the prosecutor’s cock hard so it wouldn’t slip out of her mouth as she got up.
“Harry tells me this ebony’s ass is tight as hell,” Jack told Sam. “Let me know what you think. Nothing
like a blow job from a bitch who’s gettin’ reamed at the same time. Do her hard, Woody. Make her
hurt.”
“You ain’t gotta ask twice, Jack!” exclaimed the defender.
Sam got up and walked over to stand behind Rashanta. He dropped his pants and his white cock sprang
out. The black woman could feel the head of his dick between her ass cheeks, poking at her anus. She
braced herself for the pain she knew was coming from her already abused asshole.
Still the negress was surprised by the shock of it as her attorney shoved the full length of his dick into
her rectum. It felt as if she was being ripped apart, but she knew she’d better keep bobbing her head on
other white man’s cock. He held the power of keeping her imprisoned and she couldn’t afford to
displease him. She couldn’t help groaning at the pain she felt. The sensation of the sound of her agony
seemed to excite the prosecutor who began fucking her face with added vigor.
“Oh, yeah!” Jack exclaimed. “Fuck that ass hard, pal. Make the bitch cry like that again!”
Sam was quick oblige and began pounding Rashanta’s ass mercilessly.
“Take it, bitch!” cried the defender. “Push that butt back and take it!”
The negress pushed back as ordered and felt her lawyer’s dick jammed further up her ass. She yelped at
the painful jolt, though the sound she made was muffled by the dick stuffed into her mouth. The district
attorney moaned with pleasure at the feeling of the black girl’s cry on his cock.
“Fuck!” gasped Jack.
The gray haired white man grabbed Rashanta’s head by the hair with both hands and began pumping his
cock down the hapless black woman’s throat. She choked and gagged, sputtering with long strands of
saliva dripping out of her mouth. He seemed completely oblivious to her gasps for breath and was
completely focussed on his own pleasure.
“That’s it!,” exclaimed Sam. “Damn! Ahhh! Fuck!”
The sight of Rashanta getting savagely throat fucked was more than he could take and the skinny bald
lawyer released his load deep in his client’s tortured ass. The colored woman felt the jets of semen
shoot into her rectum.
“Here it comes, bitch!” cried Jack as he ejaculated in Rashanta’s mouth. “Mmmm! Yeah!!!”
The black woman choked on the load of sperm the white man deposited in her throat. Tears streamed
down her face from gagging and she drooled onto the floor. She felt like a used piece of meat as the two
attorneys shot their loads into her at the same time. Their cum leaked from her lips and asshole. Both
holes burned with the pain of hard use.
