Chapter 2

When we left off this story two years ago, Jesse Brown was an old for her years fifteen and now she was an almost adult reform school girl of seventeen with all innocence rubbed off the hard way by just trying to survive the day to day existence of an incarcerated white girl in a definite minority incarcerated for telling the truth until she turned the magic age of eighteen and was released into society as a full grown adult ready to meet the world on her own terms.

Jesse had learned how to play the guards to her advantage and that was an important part of the equation of survival.

She had two big things in her favor.

The first was that she was WHITE.

Being white meant she was only in the ethnic group of about twelve percent of the incarcerated population. But she wasn’t only white. She was a blonde and had blue eyes. In fact, she was the only white, blonde, blue eyed girl in the Logan Road Reform School for Wayward Minors. That had been ever since the Albino bitch from hell called Angela Lopez was released just last month when she turned eighteen. The rumor was that they had gotten word that her body had been fished from the river with her throat cut. To make matters worse her tongue had been cut out probably for snitching to the police about something she should have kept her mouth shut up on forever and a day.

Jesse knew it was probably true because the girl was a snitch the entire time she was at the Logan Road Facility and she was lucky to have finished her sentence without something similar not happening in the nocturnal hours in the reform school environment.

The second thing was that she was unusually PRETTY.

The simple truth of the matter was that not very many of the minor girls were particularly attractive. Sure they had their youth going for them but the majority of them needed cosmetics desperately in order to be marginally acceptable for men to take an interest in them sexually.

Of course, her reform school nickname was Blondie and she did her best to keep her hair brushed and clean as a matter of choice and not chance. Her cellmate Tamara helped with that chore by constantly brushing it when she wasn’t doing something else and they ignored the snickers of derision from the other inmates about who was the top and who was the bottom. Sure they snuggled and cuddled and spooned every night but it really wasn’t a sexual thing with either of them. It was just the closeness of being together and the need for physical touching that brought them together as a couple and not alone like most of the others.

Jesse knew that being white and pretty gave her an up with regard to her relationship to the guards. It didn’t matter it they were male or female. She could tell when a guard was interested in her in a sexual way just from looking into their eyes. Most of the male guards were willing to use any of the girls for sex regardless if they were white, black or purple and it didn’t matter if they were skinny or fat as long as they were willing to bend over to take it up the ass when asked to do so. The females were different only in the case of the straight ones that were hard to get close to. Fortunately, most of the female guards were either lesbian or bi-sexual and it didn’t matter if they were a top or a bottom, if they liked pussy they were willing to cooperate to get it in the dark corners where there were no cameras to record their indiscretion.

She had learned early on that once you get down on your knees and suck a cock you are branded a cocksucker for the remainder of the time you are incarcerated. It was not as bad for females as it was for males. Female cocksuckers were considered valuable to the male guards because they eased the boredom of daily existence in the dangerous environment.

Jesse was in the top ten percent of desirable cocksuckers in the prison because she was both white and pretty and that was a rare combination indeed in the prisoner demographic. A quick five minutes on her knees was usually good for a pack of cigarettes and for fifteen minutes she was worth at least a cell phone or a small radio to listen to music in her cell. She also took the phone calling cards even though she didn’t use them herself. She used them as convenient currency as regular money was prohibited at all times.

Nobody knew exactly how many minor girls were housed at the Logan Street Reform School for Wayward Minors but when Jesse took an unofficial count she came up with 425 girls incarcerated and another eighteen in the discharge annex waiting to be released out into the hard, cruel world. She knew they had three shifts of guards and that there were never more than eighty guards in the facility at any one time. Sometimes on Sundays or holidays, they were short staffed and the inmates were able to get away with a lot more shit then they could normally.

It was just such a holiday Monday morning that she was down on her knees giving Officer Mike Gallagher his wake-up call blow job when he asked her if she ever took it up the ass for adequate compensation. The way he asked the question it was as if he already knew the answer and they just had to sort out the details of how much and how long it would last.

They both knew if they got caught it would mean solitary for her and a fine and a reprimand for him but they were willing to take the risk to get the anticipated tingle that would result from her simply putting a smile on her pretty face and bending over the desk for about ten or fifteen minutes for him to get his nut off. She settled for a fifty dollar phone card for no more than fifteen minutes up her poop chute and no talking to anyone afterward if there was any chance of it happening ever again.