Chapter 4

Behind a locked conference room door Jack Gardner and his vice-principals, Pete Franklin and Ashanta Johnson began the process of sorting out the disaster of the Margaret Horner arrest. Ashanta picked up her purse and pulled out a pack of Kools. She lit up a long menthol cigarette and blew a long plume of smoke over the table. Gardener pulled out a pack of Marlboros and joined her. The special blend he had shared with Allissa Avery earlier in the day was locked in his study.

Jack looked at Pete and Ashanta and started, "So, how to we handle this?"

Pete was quick with a reply, "First, we claim privacy concerns and we make no comment."

Ashanta gave him a hard look. "Well, shit yes, that's what we say, but that's for the press publicly, what do we leak to them?"

Gardner nodded. "I think our background position should be that she was observed transferring the drugs from her car in the parking lot, and I called the Chief to set up the drug dog inspection."

Pete was astounded. "You saw Margaret Horner with that bag of pot?"

Gardener pressed ahead. "Yes, at least I think so, I was standing at the window overlooking the parking lot when I saw her take something out of her trunk and put it in her backpack. I thought it strange that she looked around before she moved the package."

Pete leaned back, balanced his chair on two legs and whistled, "Margaret Horner, the most popular girl in school, selling drugs. This is going to shake this town, Jack."

Ashanta laughed, "No. shit, Sherlock." She had no love for Margaret Horner or her type-stuck up white bitches.

Margaret trembled as the police officer rolled her fingers through the black ink as he took her fingerprints. He took her arm to give her support as he stood her on the black X on the floor. Her mug shot showed a young girl with very red eyes and disheveled hair.

Bud led her over to his desk and handed her a phone. She called her father. After the brief crying conversation, Bud escorted her to a room with a small table and two chairs on each side. She waited for some one to come in while staring at the handcuffs on her wrists. How could this be happening to me?

Bud came in and calmly settled down in the chair opposite her. He didn't acknowledge her in any way. He laid the folder on the table and opened it. Margaret could see her name on the folder's tab. Slowly turning the pages he ignored her. He noticed she began to fidget in her chair afraid to say anything. Good, she's ready now.

He passed a paper across to her. "Ms. Horner, would you please sign this. It says that we have read your rights to you, and that you understand them."

She looked at the paper without moving. "I want to wait until Mr. Johnson gets here."

"Miss, this isn't something to be afraid to sign. It just means we have read you your rights." Bud was trying to unseat her from her position to wait. Maybe he could get something out of her before her lawyer showed up.

She forcefully said, "I am waiting for Mr. Johnson. My father said not to say anything until he arrives. So I'm not."

Bud pushed the paper back into the folder. "Who do you think put the marijuana in your locker?"

She started to shake her head, but stopped. She just stared at him mute.

"Okay, Miss, you do have the right to remain silent." He stood up, walked over to the door; opened it, and yelled, "Jones." A black woman, in her forties, wearing a sharply creased police uniform swiftly responded. "Jones, please search Ms. Horner and take her to a holding cell until her father and lawyer arrive." Bud took his folder and left Margaret to Jones.

"Yes, sir." Tisha Jones walked into the interrogation room and commanded, "Stand up."

Margaret looked at her without moving. Having seen this a thousand times before, she walked over to the young woman and slipped a hand under an arm and yanked her to her feet. No one had told Jones who the prisoner was, not that it would have mad a lot of difference.

"What the fuck are you doing? Let me go." Margaret resisted and sat back down.

"Standup when I tell you to, you little bitch."

"Bitch? Don't you dare talk to me like that you, eh... nigger."

The officer's eyes grew wide and then narrowed. Margaret never saw the fist that hit her lower abdomen just above her pubic bone. She slumped back into the chair wheezing and trying to catch her breath.

Jones put her face into Margaret's and growled, "No white bitch is ever going to call me a nigger and get away with it. Do you understand?"

Margaret's fear paralyzed her reaction. Her silence angered Jones who quickly followed by a hard slap on the cheerleader's face who fell to the floor. Jones yanked her back into the chair. Margaret tried to touch her burning face with her manacled hands.

"Do you understand, bitch?" Jones hissed at her.

Margaret stuttered in rage. "This is police brutality." Jones reached up and squeezed one of Margaret's tits. She screamed with the pain.

"Do you understand, bitch?" She repeated menacingly.

Margaret sat holding her stomach and panting from the assault. She rolled her head trying to clear her thoughts. She knew if she didn't respond quickly another blow would fall. "Yes, I understand."

"Now, stand up."

Margaret rose slowly.

"Now, bitch, you follow me and remember if anyone asks, you fell. Understand?"

Margaret nodded and followed. Jones led her to an unmarked door she opened with a key off the bulky ring attached to her waist. They entered a small room-just a chair, a desk, and a box of rubber gloves on the desk. Jones unlocked her handcuffs and pushed the girl into the middle of the room.

"Strip."

"No, fucking way."

Jones approached her with her fist pulled back. Margaret looking into the dark brown eyes and only saw danger.

"Wait... okay. Just don't hit me."

Margaret unbuttoned her blouse and set it on the desk. She unzipped her skirt. She stood up straight unmoving.

"Listen, bitch, I said strip. That means naked."

Margaret hesitated then took off her bra. She pushed down her panties and laid them on the pile. She covered her breasts. Jones whistled. "You are one fine piece of pussy." She pulled a rubber glove from the box on the table. "Bend over." She gave the glove a loud snap as she pulled it over her hand.

The young girl was sure she knew what was coming. She bent over. Long fingers invaded her pussy, spreading her lips apart and searching her interior for contraband. The fingers when satisfied as to the safety of her pussy moved and entered her asshole. Margaret jerked and Jones slapped her ass. "Be still, cunt."

Margaret started at the epithet and drew another slap.

Two fingers probed her ass until Jones was satisfied as to its contents. "Get dressed, bitch."

Margaret ignored the insult and quickly put her clothes on. "You've got a real pretty pussy. They're going to like you in the cell." Jones ate up Margaret's body with her dark eyes.

Jones led her to a holding cell in the rear of the police station. She opened the cell and shoved Margaret into the 10x12 foot cell currently occupied by two women. She fell to the floor and stared at Jones with black hate in her eyes.

Jones chuckled, "Ladies, I brought you a little snack." She looked down at Margaret lying on the floor. "Honey, meet Terri and Molly. They're a couple of our regulars. They just got picked up for hooking at the Ramada." She grinned at this giving the two hookers a glance said, "Save some for me," and she walked away.

Margaret looked at them as if she had just been pushed into a zoo cage with two hyenas, hungry ones. They stared back amazed at the young blonde girl Jones had given them. The hookers stripped the little cutie in their minds, and their eyes caressed her long tanned legs.

Terri Barker had been hooking since she was fifteen. Twelve years of lying on her back making her living had given her a rough edge. Molly Linden had only started a couple of years ago, when her husband lost his job and they were going to lose the house. As time passed, he drank and she hooked. She liked the good money more than her no-good husband. So she got rid of him and sold the house. She had moved in with Terri for temporarily, but she was still there a year later. Molly had not yet grown the thick skin one had to get to service the males of the world for a career.

Molly and Terri were partners. They teamed up to work the noon business crowd at the Ramada Inn. The women had worked together since they had found that as one hooker they could get a good hundred for a noontime fuck, but as two lesbians they could make three hundred by putting on a show and then one of them fucking the trick. More money and less fucking worked for both of them. The women sometimes with the right client pretended to be sisters. That usually made them five hundred for a nooner. Nothing turned on lonely business men more then lesbian sisters. They had also learned they liked fucking each other and did it often without a trick present. Molly's husband didn't know it, but he was replaced by someone without a cock, but a much more talented tongue.

Margaret lay in the middle of the lockup on the concrete floor. A bench ran around two sides of the room. Molly and Terri sat on end nearest the door. Margaret got up and sat in the corner opposite them. She tried to disappear. After a few minutes, Terri moved over and sat down by Margaret.

"What ya in for, honey?" She sat much too close to Margaret who could smell her strong perfume.

"I didn't do it." Margaret was trembling. Her fear fed Terri's interest.

"Honey, we didn't do it either."

Molly shook her head in agreement and smiled at her. "Honey, we were framed. The cops just have it in for us."

Terri flicked her eyes from Molly to the porcelain toilet in the middle of the open wall. Molly smiled and got up. She was dressed in a black miniskirt, something that wouldn't get you thrown out of the Ramada Inn at lunch time if the management was looking for a reason. Margaret followed her movement across the cell. Her eyes grew wide when Molly lifted her skirt above her waist exposing a black thong. The hooker flicked her panties down her long legs and sat down on the toilet. After a second, the sound of piss strongly hitting water filled the cell. Molly moaned like she had a girl in the pot licking her. "God, I had to piss." The loud splashing sound assaulted the cheerleader's ears and echoed in the cell. Molly continued to moan until the stream stopped. She turned to get some toilet paper, and Margaret found herself staring a Molly's shaved pussy. Molly saw Margaret looking and winked at her as she dried her pussy. She tossed the paper into the bowl and flushed. She stood-still holding up her dress. "Terri, honey can you help me with my panties?"

Terri stood up and walked to her cell mate. She dropped to her knees and pulled up the black scrap of material. Margaret was spell bound as the black panties rose toward her openly displayed pussy. Just before Terri covered Molly's bare cunt she leaned forward and gave it a little kiss.

"Thank you, honey." Molly whispered as Terri pulled up the panties and rubbed Molly's wet pussy through the material.

Molly came over and sat down in the spot Terri vacated. Terri turned to the two women and announced, "I have to pee, too." She was wearing a dress identical to Molly's.

She pulled up her dress and Margaret saw another black thong. Terri giggled at bit too loudly, "We always dress alike. We're like sisters." She shucked down her panties and sat on the pot. Another loud stream of piss hit the bowl. She smooched her lips in Molly's direction and Margaret saw Molly return the kiss.

Terri turned for the paper and Margaret saw another shaved pussy. She watched Terri wipe it with the paper and stand up. Molly jumped over and knelt before her co-worker. She lifted the wet black panties into place, also giving the exposed pussy a wet kiss.

Margaret was frightened as the two lesbians sat down on each side of her. Terri leaned in close. "Honey, do you need to take a piss?" Margaret did, but she wasn't going to admit it. She did not pee in public, no matter how badly she ached. She shook her head and whimpered, "No."

Terri went on. "Aww, that's too bad. I mean we showed you ours. It just doesn't seem fair, does it Molly?"

"No, it doesn't. You've seen our pussies and I think we should get to see yours."

"No. I'm not going to show you my..." Margaret was determined that these two sluts were not going to see any part of her body.

Molly and Terri moved in close their mouths just short of touching Margaret's ears. "Show us, honey. It's only fair." Molly's hand took the terrified girl's arm and squeezed. Margaret was sure she would hurt her if she didn't go along. Terri's fingers pressed into her other arm. Margaret whispered, hoping to delay the pain, "I do need to pee."