Miss Amanda's Bitch Boys VI

“Thank you so much for caning me, Miss Amanda,” the voice raspy, the throat well worn.

The faltering words come as Guard Amanda presents her hand. Inmate Henry kisses most fawningly. When he begins to lick, the hand withdraws and a finger taps the nose.

“When you’ve healed, I will have you posted again, Henry. You’re so deserving, are you not?”

“Oh yes, Ma’am. Long canings are best for me.”

The words, offered by rote, still bring a smile. Amanda Contrell turns to Jami, observing in glee.

“Milk him well, Jami. Consider it your lunch. And later I’ll have a dog biscuit for you.”

Caning finally completed... one hour... two?.. Guard Amanda steps away, her words the signal for Jami to take charge. From the cabinet a bowl is tossed to the floor. Jami eagerly slides it under inmate Henry’s belly.

“I’m willing to bet he’s hard and ready to squirt for you, the masochistic worm.”

Jami kneels behind. His right hand gingerly moves to well caned buttocks, working within the crevice which avoided the searing strokes of rattan. The left hand slips under prisoner Henry’s stomach. Luke hears the high girlish voice.

“Oh yes, Miss Amanda. He’s very stiff.”

“Well drain the sick pervert. But don’t stroke him. No pleasure. He’d not appreciate it. Just work his prostate.”

Amanda strolls to rejoin Luke at his cell. The meaty brown hand slips through the bars and grasps Luke’s waiting nostril string.

“When a woman addresses you Luke, it’s proper protocol to approach the bars and stand before her... and I recommend doing so most humbly.”

“Yes Ma’am.” 

“As good as he is at fellatio, Jami’s prostate milkings are even more renowned... and hated by the inmates. But Jami has to eat. And he’ll gather and consume sperm in any manner commanded.”

Luke and Amanda watch, her grip not slackening, as Jami’s right hand works, the digits deeply inserted, knowingly manipulating and priming the odd male gland to be drained. But not by way of ejaculation.

“He’s already beginning to drool. Miss Amanda.”

“Then slow down. No rush. Lots of sperm for you. But no climax for him,” Guard Amanda’s tone one of gloating.

“I understand you met the warden’s daughter Luke,” Amanda continuing to observe, her free hand going to Luke’s chest.

“The warden’s daughter Miss Amanda?” killer Luke chagrined with his new found etiquette, sensing firm fingers toying with his left nipple.

“Molly. She interns here at the prison during the summer... helps with the feedings.”

Ah, the haughtiness is explained by more than teenaged precociousness.

“Oh yes, she’s been feeding me.”

“And more than what the commissary apportions, I’ve been told, ha, ha, ha.”

Word of the girl Molly’s vile retribution has gotten to guard Amanda. A sheepish Luke has no reply. Amanda just peers, seeming to glow with Luke’s enlightenment.

“Don’t be too distraught. She’s trained some miscreant in Cell Block D to eat her turds... and she makes him thank her for the offering. So taunting her, suggesting she likes looking at your privates, comes with a cost. If she demands that you be posted, you’ll be howling more than Henry there. And she’ll watch and get off in doing so. So try not attract her attention. But still, I suspect you’ll be drinking more from her. Nothing to stand in her way... no one to object. After all, this is super max. For the most part you no longer exist, Luke boy. And who’s going to tell the warden that her daughter has certain... shall we say traits. Traits exhibited in dealing with someone who no longer exists...”   

Miss Amanda's Bitch Boys V

Luke hears the click of a lock and the clang of steel bars. He arises in curiosity, then kneels to drink, the urine of feeding girl Molly lingering in his mouth    

Into view comes the well muscled guard Amanda Contrell. In her hand right hand is the nostril string of an inmate. In her left is a leash leading to the collar of the naked castrate Jami. Behind, yoked and shuffling on knees, the inmate  moves with celerity to minimize painful tension on the string.

“That’s it Luke boy, just pretend you’re sucking on a nice cock,” noting Luke now drinks without protest. 

Amanda laughs and jostles the nostril string continuing her stroll to the dead end of the corridor where serving girl Molly brought attention to the two sturdy posts. Luke notes the emaciated form of the starved Jami carries a length of bamboo. As the shuffling prisoner nears the posts, he sees that indeed they accommodate the ends of the prisoner’s yoke. With the sound of clicks, such are secured in place. Then Guard Amanda releases both nostril string and leash, steps back and snaps her fingers. With that, trusty Jami jumps to action and begins stripping the kneeling inmate. With Jami’s speedy attention, the deed appears to be a regular undertaking.

Luke notes the inmate resists not, allowing himself to be brought to nakedness without word or gesture of resistance.

“We’ll take care of your needs today, Henry. Keep those feet nice and raw,” Guard Amanda smiling as various garments are tossed aside.

A large brown hand reaches to playfully tousle the hair then disappears from sight. There comes the sound of metal doors, a cabinet tucked against the near wall. Amanda returns, a strip of wood in hand, round hole in the middle. Luke watches as the device opens, splitting lengthwise down the middle. The two conjoining strips are handed to Jami.

“A humbler. Keeps a boy immobile and humble indeed,” Amanda calls out noting Luke’s curious look.

An excited Jami reaches between parted thighs, palms the scrotal sac and draws back. He tucks the set of male plums into the hole of the open strips, presses the ends against the back of the thighs right and left then dextrously tightens, closing the strips to hold in place the testicles most tautly.

“Jami so much enjoys handling the glands he so painfully gave up,” Amanda offers with a laugh.

When inmate Henry utters a muffled groan, Amanda smiles in satisfaction, the scrotum conveniently used to further immobilize. It is not the first time she has had Jami place a male into the wooden humbling device, Luke notes. The deed required not more than a minute.

Next, Amanda again disappears. There is more rattling about the cabinet. Then she returns with a metal bar, a circle of nylon at each end no doubt intended to capture a limb. Jami takes the bar, kneels and indeed right ankle and left are secured, forcing the knees well apart.

Jami presents the length of bamboo. Guard Amanda holds it before the well bound prisoner Henry. He kisses it. There comes an evil smile, as she steps to the side and immediately begins the most vicious caning imaginable. Even professional killer Luke Donovan, observing two crisp strokes, hearing one constant howl, closes his eyes in shock.

In completing half a dozen strokes, Amanda pauses, turning to Luke’s cell, grinning most triumphantly. 

“He canes well does he not, Luke boy. So appreciative... and so deserving.”

A free hand lowers to tenderly smooth over amazingly purple welts. The digits feel with pride. And the sobs of the excoriated inmate seem to bring joy.

“Some bastinado, Henry? It’s for the best. Hate to think you’ll ever again walk upright.. like a real man.”

Luke notes that the ankle restraints of the spreader bar also serve to hold the bare feet some two inches above the concrete flooring, making the caning of the feet most facile.

It begins, Luke surprised with the leisurely timing... the ease of each stroke... and the blazing agony such brings. Meanwhile Jami watches with fascination, his look almost one of envy.

Amanda canes the instep. Incredibly sensitive, Luke realizes. And so little effort expended in spawning lung emptying howls of agony. And no one will ever hear, Luke shuddering with the thought. Only Guard Amanda and the inmates of super max. 

Guard Amanda pauses in rest, playfully tapping the well exposed and entrapped testicles, objects not to be ignored by a woman of control and dominance.

“Don’t waste any pity on Henry here, Luke. As an arsonist he’s a failure. But as a masochist... in that he triumphs,” Guard Amanda stepping to Luke’s cell door in respite. “Burned down his own house. Little problem with cash flow to be cured by the insurance company. Used a clever timing device attached to the gas furnace. Very effective... except that his wife and kids arrived home early. Though death benefits were not intended as part of the scheme, the life insurance people tend to do much more thorough investigations into million dollar death claims.

“And then, while awaiting sentencing, in a brazen display of what had before been latent masochism, he began to write thinly disguised threatening letters to the judge and prosecutor. Something about their homes going up in flames as well. Sealed himself in super max as a result. He’s here by his own hand, Luke boy... literally assuring incarceration in the most secure and punishing facility in the Federal system. 

“Been caning him weekly since he arrived. It’s cathartic for him, the miserable wimp. He’s grateful for my attention, though he has a hard time showing it when I turn his skin to the same color as his wife and children. Ha, ah, ha.”

Luke is stunned in silence. Guard Amanda reaches inward palms then jostles the hairless scrotal sac. The moment of physical pleasure brings emotional distress.

“You’ll be posted at some point, Luke. None of my bitches avoids the cane. And you’ll come to appreciate it too. I know boys like you.”

Luke’s shock grows as Guard Amanda returns to the well restrained mass of reddened skin.

She begins again, more applications of rattan to feet already brought to crimson.

Miss Amanda's Bitch Boys IV

Luke Donovan begins to acclimate. Unlike any other time he’s served, he learns of the sui generous protocols of hard time in super max. First, Guard Amanda Contrell rules... everything... everyone. There is no process of appeal, no layers of administrative bureaucracy. Second, regulations seem to be contrived, made up on a whim. Third, there are no written reports for filing, no record of inmate indiscretion and punishment thereof. Without windows, only the open bars facing the narrow corridor to offer light and a view, there is no night time... no day time... only Guard Amanda Contrell time.

In questioning the super max method for watering, Luke pointing out that proper hydration is a world recognized obligation of all penal institutions, Amanda Contrell quickly rebuked.  

‘There is no outside world, Luke boy. I am your world. Now kneel and suck’

And so for water, Luke kneels and takes the phallic like tube in his mouth. Hands rendered useless, there is no alternative. Why the water bottle hangs so low on the bars somewhat perplexes. Perhaps for easy refilling. But he suspects it is more of Guard Amanda demonstrating her authority... her supreme authority... over the most vicious inmates in the Federal prison system.

Yes, she beams with odd pride in watching her charges... her ‘hamsters’... take refreshment. For attached to the bottom of the quart bottles are rubber tubes, only trickling water when encircling lips and fervent tongue work, essentially needing to be sucked indeed. It’s demeaning, but the cell block can be stifling, and liquids are most welcomed. And not lost on Luke is the size and shape of the tube. Yes, it is definitely phallic.

Luke learns the derivation of Guard Amanda Contrell’s skills in stripping a man. For each morning, presumably it is morning, she strolls the corridor, reaching within the bars to unbuckle the waist bands of the prison uniforms and tugging to the floor. It is then that the inmates can shuffle to use the toilets. Trusty Jami saunters behind, hands free to perform the odorous task of wiping the inmates clean, pulling the trousers back to the waist and buckling. It’s demeaning, being wiped like a child, but wrist restraint is constant, the strong polymer blocks never removed, hands useless at all times. 

Feeding time offers more degradation. A girl, young considering the potential jeopardy of prison, rolls a cart into the cell block. Six bowls of gruel, each apportioned according to the inmate’s size and weight, are pushed within, the solid steel door closing and locking behind her. She’s pretty, Luke finds, named Molly, and though plainly dressed in drab uniform proves to be quite the cocktease for prisoners whose only sexual relief has been the swishing tongue of the sexless Jami.

With Luke’s mandated nakedness continuing, he’s embarrassed. But the girl blushes not. Curious that a girl seeming so youthful shows neither concern nor thrill in tending to a well bound naked male.

But life demands nutrition. And so Leg Breaker Luke humbly kneels as the blonde ingenue Molly spoons from the bowl marked with his prison number. It’s bland fare. Not foul, but on the third feeding, already the monotony of the tastelessness wears.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Luke overcoming bashfulness. “You like looking at my cock?”

“No talking. You’ll be punished,” Molly proving to be brusque.

A second spoonful is presented. In being fed as a child, Luke feels the need to show his resentment. He defies.

“So how you going to punish me, lock me up? Ha, ha, ha.”

“You’ll not be laughing if I inform Amanda. She’ll have you posted. And she may let me watch.”

The girl smiles. Suddenly it dawns on Luke. The smile is wry, so mindful of Guard Amanda’s wicked grin. Luke does not know what it is to be ‘posted’, but he has quickly learned that Guard Amanda Contrell is a woman of determination. It cannot bode well and his verbal transgression brings regret. The realization brings concern. Young Molly... she’s one of them... a budding harridan.

And Molly instantly understands she has turned the tide.

“You see the two stanchions at the end of the corridor? To your left? Just nod, no words,” her voice becoming most stern.

Luke looks. Unnoticed before are two vertical posts, rising some eighteen inches from the concrete floor. He nods in compliance.

“Good. Well you may notice that the distance between is exactly the length of your yoke,” a dainty hand slipping between the bars to tap the polymer block resting on Luke’s shoulders. “When Amanda has a prisoner attached to the posts kneeling, there’s not much she can’t do to one of her bitches. You’ll not want to be posted. But I think I will inform on you. Yes, I’m going to tell her and ask her if I can watch. It is then that I will like looking at your cock, flopping about, kneeling with thighs well spread. Then you’ll be polite, I assure you.”     

Luke the Leg Breaker, serving 19 terms, shudders, his extreme vulnerability distressing. The young girl Molly is pretty, demure, and threatens like gangster. He decides on quiet, not transgressing again with words.

“But perhaps I’ll punish you instead and not tell Amanda. If you agree. It will be simple... and I think you’ll understand better your position... and mine. Do you agree? Nod and I’ll not have you posted.”

Luke looks at the posts, imagining his naked form kneeling, completely exposed to whatever Guard Amanda chooses to inflict, wrists encumbered, hands useless. He gulps. He nods. Molly takes his half full food bowl from the cart. She smiles, placing on the floor. Then she slightly raises her plain brown skirt and squats. A stream of excretion gushes to the bowl, mixing most repulsively with the mush.

Yes, she is one of them, a horrified Luke concludes.

“And now you’ll finish your dinner,” Molly offering a sloppily wet spoonful. “In silence.”

Miss Amanda's Bitch Boys III

“Feeding time for Jami. Everyone to the bars.”

The stentorian voice of Guard Amanda Contrell calls out. Luke, breaker of legs, watches in both curiosity and awe as his five yoked cohorts instantly rise and indeed present themselves standing at the bars. Luke knows he too must obey, but his nakedness brings bashful delay.

His awe amplifies as he sees Amanda Contrell emerge from the observation room. In her hand is a leash... a dog’s leash... and it is attached to the seamless steel collar of an emaciated young male... Caucasian... naked... and unless Luke’s eyes deceive... without balls!   

“I said to the bars,” the command coming as Guard Amanda notes Luke’s tardiness.

He arises, noting the smirking face of the guard and a look of eagerness on the young male.

“Your choice, Jami. Pick your meal. But not Eddie boy. He’s been a little lax in licking my boots of late.”

With that, Jami strolls down the narrow corridor, a tiny penis flopping about. The yoked inmates all press their pubes’s, zippers aligned to open slots between the bars. Jami pauses before inmate one and two, finally stepping to Julie, standing opposite. The naked form of some 100 pounds eagerly kneels. Free hands work the zipper. Guard Amanda girlishly giggles as a huge black cock springs forth. Jami reaches inward, gently cupping the impressive scrotum and immediately engulfing a rapidly swelling manhood. Luke is shocked with both the alacrity and the oral capacity of an otherwise physically limited being.

“Yes, you are hungry today, Jami. Picked the biggest happy meal in the cell block.”

Luke finds both fascination and distress, watching the head bob and thrust. He notes Julie’s look of ecstasy, vicariously feeling the pursing lips and swishing tongue. He notes the eagerness. He notes there is no coercion... not on the part of Jami... not on the part of Julie. It disgusts, his homophobia frothing.

“Someday maybe for you, Luke boy. Jami gets his three meals per day, prison regulations... ha, ha, ha.”    

“You can’t do this!” a flustered Luke protests.

Guard Amanda, leaving much slack on the leash, turns as the oral coupling continues.

“You see any windows, Luke boy? Any telephones? Any method of communicating with the outside world? What happens in super max happens... and it stays here and only here. When Julie completes his sentence, if he completes his sentence, no one will ever know a good part of his hard time was spent feeding my little white boy. And see how much Jami enjoys himself? The transformation is intriguing, castrating a boy. He once molested children, demanding fellatio from young girls and boys. And now look! Seems he’s now the best cocksucker in the prison.... ha, ha, ha.”

There comes a gasp of delight, Julie evidently exploding as Luke notes how deeply is the penetration. There is no doubt the effluent gushed directly into the cocksucker’s gullet.

“Be sure to lick him clean now Jami,” the admonishment coming as Jami’s face slowly withdraws.

Luke notes the attentiveness, the tongue dancing and dabbing. Julie indeed well cleansed.

“Took a while to condition him. But incising the balls makes a boy malleable. Plus starvation. Unless Jami sucks cock he doesn’t receive protein... and he doesn’t get his dog biscuit.”

With that, a dog biscuit is indeed tossed to the concrete floor. Jami crawls and picks it up in his mouth, chewing ravenously.

“That’s his ration... sperm and a dog biscuit. But no sperm, no dog biscuit. So he’s always ready to suck a good cock. Keeps him nice and lean, wouldn’t you say Luke boy?”

“You’re starving him!”

“Yes, but so judiciously. Every time I think about his young victims, I want to refuse him his biscuit.”

Luke hears crunching as the biscuit is rapidly consumed. Guard Amanda smiling pridefully.

“Child molesters normally don’t do well in prison, Luke boy. But once the ultimate price is paid, the inmates become more tolerant. Plus a good blow job is always appreciated. No perceived homosexuality in receiving, Luke boy, not in prison. And in super max, where masturbation is not tolerated, a good set of  warm wet lips is much cherished. Isn’t that right Julie boy?”

“Oh, yes Ma’am, Miss Amanda. I very much enjoy feeding Jami. He deserves lots and lots of spunk.”

“Jami, I think you’re getting a little fat,” a hand reaching to pinch the naked buttocks, small and little girlish.

Luke knows the observation to be sarcastic, the convicted molester sporting not an ounce of excess weight.

“Think I’ll cut down on your biscuits. More sperm instead. Keep you nice and lean.” 

Biscuit consumed, Jami crawls to confront Luke’s nakedness, his genitals pressing through the bars, enticing for the sucker of cocks. A tongue thrusts forth in invitation. Luke is shocked with the length and breadth.

“May I taste him Miss Amanda?” the voice high pitched, the hormonal change evident.

Guard Amanda looks to Luke, a twinkle in her eye. She notes that the penis somewhat swells... a latent reaction in standing naked before a fully clothed woman? Perhaps deep within the expressions of homophobia are a subterfuge? Or is there a somatic reaction to watching another male receive such ecstatic joy?

For Amanda, it matters not.

“Get him up for me, Jami... but don’t get him off. You’ve had your lunch.”

Jami pushes his face to the bars. Luke steps back, but Guard Amanda knowingly grabs the string of his nose binding, pulling threateningly.  

“Don’t bother being shy. You gave yourself away with your last erection. You’re one of those, Luke. And Jami is most cautious. Unless I tell him to bring you off, you’ll not ejaculate. He knows where you are in the cycle. After all, fellatio is how he spends most of his day, sucking and sucking.”