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...”