In-correction - Cover

In-correction

Copyright© 2016 by Wayne Stewart

Chapter 1

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - When a typo sends a guy to the wrong correctional institute, a kid in a candy store turns into a boy toy in a bargain basement when the authorities discover a rooster in their henhouse.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Coercion   Heterosexual   Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Sex Toys   Squirting   Doctor/Nurse   Violence   Workplace  

Ok, I’m no macho man; I’ll be the first to admit that. Call it metabolism or genetics; I’m just not bulky like most guys. Maybe I’m just a late bloomer? Ok, even I can’t believe that one.

But that’s the reason I was picked for the heist. The plan was simple enough. All I had to do was climb into the ventilation, drop into the jewelry store, and unlock the damn door. The guys I was rooming with would enter, grab the loot, fence it, and split the cash with me.

Now, before you listen to them tell you what an idiot I was, let me explain. The cheap shoes I had were all I could afford. They weren’t gripping the metal the way I needed them to and my ponytail, well past my shoulders in length, got caught by the hinge on the screen cover of the air vent.

I know, cut the hair, pull or yank it out; all sounds great on paper. But you can’t do that when you’ve knocked yourself out. I got a nasty knot on my head to prove it too. By the time I came to, one cop was shaking his head at me while the other was talking to the girl that opened the store.

That left me, kicking air over a display case. Yep, they were pretty impressed when I started showing life, being anything but dead. Even the clerk almost fainted. Firemen entered and got me loose and somebody posted it all on the internet and me dangling ended up in the paper.

Besides being the police and firemen’s best laugh of the day, I was the laugh of the medics, web surfers, and jailers. The Boston City Dangler, they labeled me. So off to a holding cell I went until my court date.

I tried to argue that I was just being curious and just happened to fall in there, but they gave me a year in the correction center anyway. If I had the money for a real lawyer, I bet I could have gotten away with it. Most everyone there was convinced it was just curiosity killing the cat. I guess I should be glad it was just a year but this cat wasn’t looking forward to a cage.

As for my accomplices; once I was swinging in the air, they were gone like ghosts. I never did hear from them again. Some friends have to be bought and I was too poor to afford them I suppose. I knew without asking that I had lost their hospitality and would be homeless after such a huge screw up.

My parents weren’t first class citizens to begin with, so you know they weren’t showing up around cops. They were as gone like ghosts as my partners in crime were. I’m not sure what people do that have been abandoned by their families. But I blamed the need to eat for my plunge into crime having no other reason other than survival.

So, off to the slammer I went to await my trial. Searched in every crevasse of my body and given an orange jumper, I was tossed in a dismal jail with the rest of the delinquents.

The time between hearing and sentencing was quick. I was given a year at the pound of a gavel and tossed in a cell at the bottom of the courthouse. I didn’t even get my bologna sandwich and colored water before they came to get me.

“Tonya Darling?” a female deputy called, looking at paperwork.

I looked around the best I could through the bars for another person in a cell. I didn’t know they had a girl locked up and, by coincidence, happened to have my last name. It could have been a distant relative. I was sure stranger things have happened.

“Tonya Darling?” she called again, stepping to my cell and waited impatiently.

“I don’t know her.” I said, giving her a shrug. It was close, since my name was Tony Allen Darling but I didn’t know anyone in my family going by Tonya.

“Funny.”” she huffed, rummaging through a key ring. “Get your ass out here.” she demanded, opening up the heavy door.

“Ok, but I’m not...” I started, taking a step out of the cell.

“Just shut up.” she scolded, “I don’t want to hear one word out of your mouth or I’ll smack it off of ya.”

She cuffed me again and led me out. The next thing I know, I was in a van with chicken wire on the windows, headed to the correction center I would do my time in.

You can imagine my surprise when I stepped out and faced a building reading, ‘Correctional Institute for Wayward Women’.

“I think you got this wrong...” I started, turning around to face the deputy.

“I told you to shut your pie hole!” she exclaimed, and shoved me backwards.

I lost my footing and fell to the ground. Another female, an African American dressed in a different uniform, who had come out of a steel door, stepped up to the driver.

“What you got for us today, Greta?” she asked, looking me over.

“One ‘Tonya Darling’ and trust me, there’s nothing darling about her.” she huffed.

“Look, I’m not Tonya...” was as far as I got when the black broad kicked me in the chest hard enough to roll me back on the ground.

“Didn’t Officer Greta tell you to shut up?” she huffed, and directed her attention back to the deputy, “Good Lord, that is one ugly bitch right there.” and looked at the paperwork.

“Pity the one that did the full body strip search!” Greta exclaimed, “But, signed, sealed, and now...” presenting me like an award, “delivered.”

“Thanks for that!” she huffed, grabbing me by the arm.

They literally drug me inside and then parked me in front of a window to be processed. Signing of paperwork, my clothes transferred, and then I was escorted off to the showers. My gut reaction after seeing another girl’s naked ass in one of the stalls was to turn around out of respect.

“Whoa missy; strip and dip.” the Amazon quipped, turning me back around and shoved me in.

I stopped myself right in front of the girl’s stall. With her hands massaging the shampoo in her hair, she turned around to look at me. “Fresh fish!” she laughed, looking me over.

I saw soapy nipples on creamy melons and followed a trail of bubbles down to soaked pubic hairs. The smell of strawberries from her shampoo added to the sense of sight before me.

“Put these on when you’re finished and put your jail clothes in the bag.” the guard instructed, laying the items on a bench.

I forced myself to look away from the sexy suds and give the guard a nod. I went to the last stall and stripped, facing away from the room. After having the view I just seen, I was dead-set on staying there as long as I could. Besides, it would serve them right for not listening to me in the first place.

Hanging a towel over the stall with my sex cupped in hand, I took a shower with bubbly Miss Bubbles next to me.

“Bashful little bitch.” the guard muttered, watching me conceal myself shyly.

“Awe, come on Fitz, you know they’re all that way at first.” Miss Bubbly quipped, and rinsed her hair out.

“Whatever Simmons, aren’t you about done yet?” she snapped.

I watched Bubbly Simmons wrap a towel around her chest and step out. I fought to keep from watching her dry under her tits, pointing her nipples in my direction. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be stepping out with an erection.

Drying off in a hurry, I wrapped the towel around my chest like she did. Getting the jumpsuit on, I let my hair cover as much of my face as possible. I was led down a hallway and a steel door was buzzed open.

“We call this the day room.” I was informed, noting the steel tables bolted to the floor. Girls were playing checkers and cards while others watched a small TV mounted on a wall. Jerry Springer was interviewing a group of low-life drama queens.

“Yee haw!” one girl taunted, “I smell a fish fry!”

“Shut up Bertha.”” another one countered, “Let her get her feet wet first.”

“This is your cell.” the guard continued, pointing to it. “You’re to be in there at seven and lights out at nine. After you’re vetted you may be relocated. No fighting, horseplay, or loud noises. Any action deemed a threat will be addressed with force.”

Two bunks with a stainless steel toilet and sink were the only fixtures in there. I guessed the bottom bunk was taken because a magazine was opened on an unmade bed.

Rules were spat out as I followed Fitz around, “Meals at seven, noon, and five...” she rattled on.

Girls looked at me walking past and one stuck her tongue out and made a licking motion while grabbing her mound and shaking it. Another stuck her tongue out and shook her tits at me.

If they meant to intimidate me, they had failed miserably. In fact, I hadn’t met any girls as sexually aggressive like them in my life. Not many were prom queens but even the heavy set Bertha was somebody I would try. Any old port in a storm, I supposed. I wondered what kind of gestures I’d have gotten if they knew I had a dick swinging between my legs.

“Any questions, just ask the other inmates.” she finished, opening the steel door we entered from. “Behave.”” she advised, and let the door close behind her.

No sooner did the door click when someone said, “You keep your claws off of my stuff or get your fingers broken.”

I turned to see the girl that shook her tits at me. “I guess you’re the bunk mate?” I asked softly, trying to keep my voice covered.

With brown eyes and black hair, a pretty face, and a heart tattoo on her hand, she took a stance meant to threaten me. “That’s right, sweetie.” she replied, “Your worst nightmare if you cross me.”

“Or wet dream if I don’t?” I whispered, taking a step closer to her.

“Stop that, you’re creeping me out.” she protested, faltering in her demeanor.

With all eyes fixated on the two of us, I continued to whisper, “Tell me to go to my bunk.” and glanced at the others paying close attention.

She looked in the direction of the other girls, saying loudly, “Get your ass in that cell.”, and pointed to it.

“Follow me.”” I whispered, and then turned to go.

“Beat her ass Casey!” one jeered and another added, “Make her bleed!”

With a guard watching on the other side of thick glass, I went past it on the way to the cell.

Casey followed closely and at the entrance, she pushed me in. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked, as I turned around.

“We have to make this look good.” I replied, and got on my knees in front of her.

She bit her lip in thought, watching me cower in front of her. “Look, I got another three months left and I don’t want any trouble.” she admitted, “So don’t be starting shit and there won’t be any.”

I nodded in agreement and whispered, “Slap me.”

“What?” she asked; confused.

“Slap me; they’re watching.” I hissed.

She hesitated, pondering my demand, and then submitted, giving me a slap across my left side. I acted like it was a lot harder than it was and fell over moaning.

Gasps sounded among ‘Holy shit!’ and ‘Damn!’ from behind and Casey perked her ears up, hearing their response.

Turning around, she asked, “Don’t you guys have something better to do?” and turned back to me.

“That’s good.” I said, leaning on the bottom bunk.

She squatted down and asked, “Did I hurt you?”

Smiling, I said, “Nope, I’m cool.” and sat up straight.

She sat down on the bunk beside me and asked, “What was all that about?”

I shrugged and said, “I don’t want any shit either.” and climbed up to take a seat beside her. “One of us has to be the bully and since I don’t know anybody, it might as well be you.”

She nodded in understanding, “Yeah, they all act like hardened criminals but most of it is hype.”

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