Conjugal Visit
A story by Rich Humus
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee........" The shrill scream rang in
my ears and echoed down the hard corridor, seeping into every crevice and corner
of the place. I tried to close my ears to it, but the knowledge and the memory
fought its way into my consciousness. I pounded my fists in to the hard cot
below me in frustration and anger as the screams rebounded down the long
hallway, but there was no way to silence them. And I was the cause of them.
It had all started a few weeks ago. Federal marshals escorted me to Graingerford
Federal Penitentiary, where I had been sentenced to 10 years. I had been found
guilty of embezzlement from my former employer, and to tell the truth, I was
guilty. The old hatchet-face who ran the company barely kept his employees alive
and tried every trick in the book to cheat them himself, but I suppose my
attempt at retribution was no better. That's not the point. The point was, as I
kept reminding myself, that I had 10 years to serve out my sentence, and then
we'd have to start over. We being my wife Denise and I. No kids. No time for
them. She was a fairly successful marketing consultant. Luckily, we'd had enough
put away for her to keep the house and support herself while I was in prison.
I remember the long drive to Graingerford. She wasn't allowed in the government
car, but had followed us all the way there, and was allowed to accompany me as I
was processed though the paperwork and was presented to the warden. Warden
Jackson. Somehow I mistrusted the sunuvabitch as soon as I saw him. Corpulent,
wearing ill fitting clothes and reeking of garlic and bad food, he seemed little
better than the 3500 convicts he oversaw.
"Well, mistah Palmer, ah see you have brought the lovely Mrs. Palmer along to
say your last goodbye's", he almost cackled as us, winking and leering at me
through his grimy glasses. I watched him look her up and down. It wasn't the
first time I'd seen men mentally raping my wife. She's a stunning woman, almost
5'10" tall, with a lovely 36C-24-35 figure. She knows she looks good, and
doesn't hesitate to trade that off for power and authority. She always wore
short dresses or skirts to show off her legs, and sometimes I thought her
blouses were just a little bit too sheer, or unbuttoned just a little too low,
but never said anything. Hell, I enjoyed looking myself.
She drew herself up to her full height and returned his stare. Her icy gaze
seemed to deflate the pompous ass for a moment, but then he recovered and turned
back to me.
"Men in this facility do not have it easy, Mistah Palmer. Although there ah some
'white collar' crim'nals, such as yourself, he-ayh, a vast majority of the men
here are serving longer sentances for far more violent crimes and ugly crimes -
rape, murder, sexual assault, robbery, car theft..as we all know, the federal
budget for incarcerations has grown through the years, but so many people ah
being found guilty, why, there just isn't enough space for them all...and you
know how no one wants a prison in their back yard, now do they?"
"I'm given a fairly free hand in how I run this place. We've had very few
escapes. And most of them didn't survive the night, ah'm sorry to report. My
guards are all hand picked. They know how to handle men like you, or even men
like Mr. Jonas here," he said, gesturing behind us. I turned to see the largest,
meanest looking black man I'd ever set eyes on. He was at least 6' 8" tall, and
probably weighed 350 pounds if he weighed an ounce. He had three pairs of
shackles around his wrists, and two around both ankles. It was clear they wanted
no trouble out of this guy.
"Tell Mistah Palmer what you're in here for, Mistah Jonas", the warden said,
almost gleefully.
Several seconds went by before the black giant rumbled to life.
"Double murder and rape."
I heard Denise gasp below her breath.
"How many rapes, Mistah Jonas?"
....."Seventeen."
Another gasp, and I saw Denise's skin get a shade paler.
"And how long are you going to be one of our guests, Mistah Jonas?" Jackson
countered.
"Life. Plus 20 years."
"So you see, mistah Palmer," he said, turning back to me and waving the guards
and Jonas away, "We have all kinds of 'gentlemen' here. Most are, truthfully,
little more than animals. If you would not like to become the 'friend' of mistah
Jonas, or other creatures like him, I'd suggest you do your time peacefully,
cooperate with all of us who run the facility, and keep your nose clean. Have
him processed." He finished curtly, waving us out of his office as he'd done
with Jonas.
Several hours later, paperwork processed and final arrangement made, I hugged
Denise tightly, unashamedly in front of the guards, and whispered in her ear.
"I love you honey. Please try to have a life while I'm here...." I choked up,
unable to say anymore. She looked at me with her endless blue eyes.
"I love you too, honey. Be careful. I'll be back soon - as soon as a visiting
day comes."
With that, and a brief touch of hands, the guards hustled me away and through
the first of several series of clanging and banging doors until I found myself
in my new address. Level 4, Block 8, Cell 26. Somehow, I'd gotten a cell with a
small, 6 inch window in it. I stood on the cot and looked out. I had a view of
the prison gate, and had to choke back a mixture of anger and sadness as I
watched Jackson escort my wife back to her car. He leaned down into her window
as she started to pull away, spoke what looked like a few words to her, then
stood and watched her drive off, as I did. I watched long after her car was too
far away to see.
The next few weeks seemed to drag on. Prison life is indescribable to someone
who's not experienced it. I see now why some men prefer death. The constant
yelling and taunting, the horrible food, the sanitary facilities, all seemed
like something out of a bad remake of Cool Hand Luke. I half expected Strother
Martin to come by and tell me we have 'a failure to communicate'.
Finally, about six weeks into my term, it was visiting day. I looked forward to
seeing Denise again, even if it was through a plate glass window. I waited
anxiously all day for the trustee to come and get me. I sat on my cot and
waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, around 5PM, when the last of the
visitors had already been escorted out, I was summoned to Warden Jackson's
office. My heart sank, expecting to be told that Denise wasn't coming or that,
for some reason, I wasn't being allowed to see her.
The trustee opened the door to Jackson's office, and closed it behind me. Not a
common thing, I understand. Jackson was rarely left alone with a prisoner. Most
of them could probably tear him limb from limb if they wanted to. All I saw was
the back of his chair.
"Ahhh, mistah Palmer. So good to see you again. I hear you are behaving
yourself. That's good. Very good." He turned in his chair to face me across the
desk.
"Please...sit." he said, indicating the chair in front of him.
"What do you - "
He held up a hand, silencing my question.
"I'm afraid, mistah Palmer, that I have some ...... good news ..... and some bad
news," he said, dramatically, pausing with some relish at the last words.
"The bad news is that, unfortunately, your wife, the lovely Mrs. Palmer, was not
able to see you today."
"Why not - "
Again the hand.
"Oh, she did come here. All the way here. In fact, ah had a few of mah men pick
her up this mo'nin' at your home. A lovely home, too, ah understand." The words
dripped from his slovenly mouth like rancid butter.
I sat slackjawed.
"You see, Ah'm implementing a new program here at Graingerford. I hope one day,
Lord willin', to see it takin' place at correctional facilities all across the
nation. Come with me."
He indicated the door, and took my arm as we walked out. "You've been our guest
here, what, a little more than 40 days, am ah correct? Out of a ten year
sentence. That means you have approximately three thousand, six hundred days to
go, am ah correct?"
God, the man's weasly voice was nearly driving me nuts. And I'd hardly spoken to
him since I got here.
"Yes."
"Well, we just may have a way to reduce that long, long time just a bit, now.
Yes, maybe we do."
We'd passed down a long corridor that rose above the central hub of the prison.
There were five long 'spokes' of cell blocks radiating out from a central
location, and the administration wing was a sixth spoke. It was a floor higher
than the cell block spokes, and from certain vantage points, you could look down
the narrow hallways of each cell block, or almost directly below into the
central hub of the 'wheel'. As we got closer, I could hear what sounded like an
excited hubbub of voices, the occasional cheer or shout rising above the crowd.
I couldn't understand what was going on.
When we got to the overlooking glass, he pointed down to the crowd. I could see
probably a hundred or so men, mostly prisoners, but also guards with rifles and
truncheons standing around. There was a large crowd, maybe a dozen or so men,
clustered around what appeared to be a slightly raised platform in the very
middle of the space. They were packed so tightly, jostling for position and
moving randomly, that I could not make out any rhyme or reason to it. A quick
glimpse of white between the men stood out in stark contrast to the mainly black
and hispanic bodies crowded around the platform. I stood and watched for a few
minutes unknowing.
Finally, Jackson rapped on the glass with his knuckle. One of the guards looked
up at us, and caught his eye. He nodded at the guard slowly and raised his hand
with one finger in the air.
The guard pointed his rifle up and fired off a single shot. The noise was
deafening in the closed in space. The men almost instantly stopped their
activity, and slowly seemed to peel themselves away from the center platform. It
was then that I noticed that several of them, if not totally nude, were without
pants. Gradually the object of all the men's attention was revealed to me. It
was a woman, by god, sprawled out spread eagled on the platform. Chains at each
wrist and ankle bound her to the corners of the unholy alter. She was nude.
Suddenly it hit me with the force of a tornado.
"DENISE!" I screamed. "DENISE!!!" I screamed, pounding my fists on the
bulletproof glass. I turned to Jackson with hatred in my eyes. He halted me with
a hand, as I saw three guards move cautiously towards us.
"There, there, mistah Palmer. There is nothing you can do for her at the moment.
Let me explain. You see, yore wife's obvious beauty caught my eye when you were
first admitted here. So I devised a plan. Her employer was convinced to give her
a leave of absence for as long as she liked. Now, she didn't want to take it,
but he convinced her. Especially since he will be continuing her salary for as
long as she's gone. And then today, I sent a few of my best men to pick her up
and bring her here. About twenty minutes ago, ah personally locked her to that
table you see her on there, after first removing all her nice clothing. You see,
ah didn't want it to get ripped..."
I balled my fists and it was all I could do to not smash his ugly face in, but
the guards held my elbows and the rifle barrel in my back was not comforting.
"So here's the plan, mistah Palmer. You have three thousand, six hundred and
seven days to go on yore sentence. Well, each time yore lovely wife is the,
shall we say, 'recipient' of one of my men's sexual emissions, we will take one
day offa yore time here. Isn't that lovely?..."
I couldn't believe it. This man, this beast, was trading my wife's rape for my
time.
..."You see, sexual urges ah very hard to control in places like this. It makes
the men into beasts, yes it does. And when they ah beasts, they ah harder to
control. But when they-ah sexual urges have been satisfied, at least fo' the
moment, they ah much more docile. Don't you think?"
My head pounded, I could feel my blood racing in my veins. And, curse it all, I
could feel my cock stiffening. Being without sex for six weeks, it was all I
could do to remind myself that that was MY WIFE down there, tied down and
helpless, about to be mass raped by a prison full of convicts.
"C'mon, let's go down and say hello to her." He pointed to the elevator that led
down to the ground floor below. I meekly followed him and the two guards
followed me. Once down there, I could see clearly what the situation was. The
men were watched closely by all the guards. I walked slowly up to Denise, the
men oddly parting to let me pass. I could hear their muttered comments.
"Dam fine bitch she is.."
"Gonna get me summa dat pussy"
"I wonder can she handle this foot-long dawg o' mine..haw haw haw.."
Their comments burned in my ears as I knelt next to her shivering, shaking body.
I reached out a hand to tentatively touch her face, but she quaked and recoiled
in horror before she realized who it was. I let my eyes wander down her
magnificent body. Her breasts heaved with her excited breathing, nipples erect
and juicy looking, whether from fear or excitement I couldn't, and didn't want
to, know. Her trim waist still had the gold chain around it that I bought her
for her last birthday. Her mound, shaved but for a small patch on her pubis,
brought back memories of the hours I'd spent licking and caressing her. Was this
all her fault? Had she not been so damned attractive and sexy, would the warden
have not forgotten about her? I cursed myself.
I looked into her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. I
could do nothing but whisper to her..
"I'm sorry..I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."
I felt rough hands grasp my shoulders and pull me away.
"Now then, mistah palmer, since yore so good with numbers..." Jackson seemed to
gloat, "Ah'm gonna do you the honor of keeping count for us. All you have to do
is make a mark down here on this tablet each time yore wife is able to 'extract'
the seed from one of mah boys here, and we'll keep a runnin' tally of things. It
should be fairly easy to tell when one of them has his way, don't yu'all think?
"
"Ah've taken the liberty of allowin' them to utilize whichever one of yore
lovely wife's openings is available. We don't want that lovely pussy of hers to
get totally overworked now, do we? And I do so hope she's able to swallow my
boys' messy old jizzum if any of them, on the off chance, should want to
'e-jac-u-late' in her mouth?" He seemed to take fiendish pleasure in pronouncing
each syllable of that horrid word.
"Oh yes, and here's some rags and stuff, to wipe her down ev'ry now and then.
Don't wan't mah boys getting' all messy now, do we? And now, as befittin' my
status as the warden of this here facility..."
I dreaded the thought. The idea of this fat, greasy worm violating my lovely
wife with his obscene body nearly made me retch. I watched in horror as he undid
his belt and slipped his pants down below his fat white ass. Clambering up on
the platform, he roughly leapt on my wife's nude and bound body with a rebel
cheer.
"Yeahh!!! PUSSY!!!!!" he shouted, to the cheers from the men around us.
I watched his ass pump in and out, hearing the groans from Denise as she was
subjected to this awful terror. As I suspected, he did not last very long,
thankfully. Just thirty or so seconds after he began pumping his vile penis into
my wife I watched him shudder and stiffen, and pump jet after jet of semen into
her clenching uterus. He pulled out unceremoniously, and reached down between
her legs. Thrusting two fingers roughly into her, he withdrew the two slimy
digits and held them up for all to see.
"ONE!" he yelled triumphantly. "
To be continued....
