Conjugal Visits
Part Two
By Rich Humus
Synopsis - our narrator has been imprisoned, and to help work off his term, the
evil Warden Jackson has kidnapped his wife and chained her to a large platform
in the central part of the jail. Read Part 1 for the full background...now,
without further ado, Part 2...
I held my head in shame and horror - that fat fuck of a warden had just raped my
wife in front of me, and what appeared to be over a hundred prisoners in the
jail. I could hear Denise softly sobbing in the background. It was only after a
few minutes, with the jeers and catcalls of the prisoners ringing off the cold
cement surrounding in the background that I could raise my head and absorb the
full impact.
The platform they had ingeniously constructed seemed devilish. Large round
eyebolts were at each corner, with chains attached that lead to Denise's wrists
and ankles. They were not pulled taut, but there was not much slack in them. She
was effectively immobile. The platform was about 10 feet square, and about three
feet thick. I noticed an odd crank protruding from one edge of the platform. A
prisoner stepped to it and slowly turned the crank. I heard a grinding noise and
my wife groaned.
It was then that I noticed the middle of the platform bulging under her. There
was some sort of cam arrangement beneath, creating a bulging center area that
pushed Denise's hips and midsection up, obscenely thrusting them out and causing
her body to bow upwards. The chains at her ankles and wrists tightened
perceptibly. After just a few clicks, her hips where elevated several inches
above the rest of her body. I looked at her again. There were cut outs in the
platform that removed the area between her legs, effectively making it possible
for her rapists to simply walk up and impale her, without even bending over. It
was a raping machine, no doubt.
The fiends who had kidnapped her had evidently planned it well. They knew just
how to maximize the arousal and desire of the hundreds of men now waiting to
ravage her. They must have gone through her bureau, grabbing her most private
undergarments and lingerie. She was wearing a black lace garter belt with tan
stockings, and a Victoria's Secret underwire bra that had the cups pushed down
below the slopes of her breasts, exposing them fully. Around her neck was the
velvet and diamond choker I had bought her for her last birthday. Her
loveliness, even in this horrid position, was evident. I found myself guiltily
looking at her splayed open womanhood.
She had always shaved there, at my urging. Her lips were splayed open, turning
red already from the abusive thrusting of Warden Jackson. A small trickle of
whitish fluid was starting to seep out. I could only hope that she had been
continuing to use her birth control pills. The amount of semen that she was no
doubt about to be absorbing couldn't fail to impregnate her, if she was anywhere
near her fertile period. The idea of being impregnated by a nameless felon
caused my body to shudder in revulsion.
"She's a beee-yooty, isn't she now, Mistah Palmer.." the raspy voice of Jackson
at my ear. He grabbed my elbow and pointed at my helpless wife. "She put up
quite a ruckus when mah men went to get her, they say. Kicked and screamed like
a little bitch, she did. But one little nudge from our nasty friend here, and
she calmed right down." With that, he brought something up to my face. It was
one of those Taser guns some police use, jolting several thousand volts of
electricity into a prisoner at a single press of the button. He fingered the
trigger, and I saw a jolt of sparks cross betweeen the terminals, crackling and
sputtering in the air like a small lightning bolt. The thought of my wife being
subjected to that torture ran though me like an iron spike.
He handed it off to the guard pressing his rifle barrel in to the back of my
neck. "If he tries anything funny, give him a shot." Then he motioned to the
other guard, who brought up a clipboard. "Here is yore score sheet. " he said,
grinning evilly at me. "Ah want you to mark down every one of mah boys who makes
love to yore sweet wife here." The use of "makes love" seemed to burn my ears.
Heaven knows there was no love making taking place. "..and we'll just see how
far 'long we get before we have to take a break for a while, okay?"
He stepped away, and motioned into the crowd. The first prisoner stepped up, the
second man to rape my wife in just a few minutes time. He was a swarthy Latino
man, tattooed and muscular, though slight. He dropped his pants and stepped out
of them. The hoots and catcalls started, the men of course acting like the
beasts they were, taunting him, me, Denise, and lord knows who else...I found
myself drawn to the action somehow, hating my intense desire that had overcome
my better judgement.
He fisted his cock as he walked up and slid it into my wife's vagina. She
groaned again through her gag. His ass pistoned back and forth, fucking into her
with controlled lust. He reached up and grabbed her breasts in his hands,
roughly kneading them and twisting Denise's nipples. I heard him grunt and curse
as he enjoyed the sport of fucking another man's wife, a beautiful wife who lay
helpless beneath him.
Exercising more control than Jackson just had, he seemed to pummel at her for
several minutes, sometimes slowing down to enjoy the warmth and wetness of her,
sometimes speeding up and jack-hammering into her like a madman. Finally,
though, his ass clenched and he pushed all the way into her, and again I watched
helplessley as another load of vile prisoner semen was splattered into my
Denise.
He leaned over to roughly kiss and bite at her left breast, and then slowly
pulled himself out of her. I felt the gun barrel at my neck give a slight push,
and I realized that I had to make a mark on the clipboard. I drew a small line.
I don't know how I made it through the next hour. I watched in vile fascination
as man after man walked up and emptied his balls in my wife. I watched black
men, white men, small men, large men, all felons like me, all prisoners, thrust
their cocks in to her over and over again. To my horror, I believe that after
the fourth or fifth man had come and roughly spilled his sperm into Denise, she
began to respond. Her body overcame her mind, and she started to respond. It was
hardly noticeable at first, but as I watched penis after penis breach the
portals of her vagina, her hips began to move up to meet them. Perhaps it was
just that she'd given up and retreated into an almost catatonic state, and her
body was simply reacting to the stimulus without any conscious regard. But it
was real.
I watched the growing river of cum seep out of her and drip wetly from the
juncture of her thighs. Each man seemed to push more and more of the wetness
out. The cam beneath her hips eleveated her just enough so that she would drain
out a bit. Her pussy lips were red and bruised, but I never, thankfully, saw any
blood.
Some men took fiendish delight in pounding in to her with abandon. The ones with
what appeared to be larger cocks, especially. I knew her delicate inner lining
was getting raw from all the pounding. There was one large ogre who pounded in
to her for what seemed like hours, over and over, drawing the length of his cock
out of her and then shoving it forcefully back in. When he reached his peak, he
suddenly yanked his cock out of her and spurted several large streams of semen
up her splayed body. I watched the white clumps smack wetly into the slopes of
her breasts and drip downwards, trailing white lines that seemed to cascade off
her like snowy rivers. He started a trend, and several of the next dozen or so
men did the same, showering her almost nude body with their seed. It seeped down
her ribcage and splattered across the length of her body. It pooled in her
navel. Several streamers even reached up to smack wetly against her face. Were
it not for the gag, I'm sure that her mouth would have tasted their salty semen.
I recorded each devilish ejaculation. Within the first hour, 32 men emptied
themselves into, and in some cases, onto my wife. I had gotten one month of my
sentence worked off. I looked at my poor Denise.
Her body was criss-crossed with lines of drying cum. It trailed off both
breasts, and lay wetly across her stomach and pubic area. Her nylons and garter
belt were still intact, but both had become almost saturated with semen, from
her thighs up. One garter clip had come undone from the rough pounding. Her
angelic face had several large globs of semen dotting it, both cheekbones were
layed with sperm, and one large drop had hit her forehead, spreading out to dry
and crust on her skin.It dotted even her hair, sparkling drops of white wetness
that seemed to cling like dew. I thanked god for the gag in her mouth. Denise
hated the taste of sperm, it was one thing I had always resented about our
lovemaking. No matter how I pleaded, she would never allow me to cum in her
mouth. I knew I would feel absolutely horrible if the semen she first tasted was
from a convicted criminal, instead of me.
The rapes went on. Sometimes, as a man enjoyed himself between her legs, other
men wold gather around her and jerk off, spraying their wet semen onto her body.
But most seemed content to wait their turn at her pussy. Two hours into the
ordeal, I had made 57 marks on the clipboard. What seemed like pints of gluey
semen were dripping from my wife's abused vagina, and even more decorated her
body.
I looked around, and the crowd of men had not seemed to dissipate at all.
Hundreds of prisoners were being herded in to the area, all under the watchful
eyes of a dozen or more guards. I saw Jackson leering down at us from his perch
on the third floor.
I could hear Denise moaning under her gag as she was repeatedly gang raped. And
yet, I could not mistake the sounds. She was responding to the evil sex after
all. How could she? How could my wife be enjoying this terrible ordeal? I
searched for answers, but found none.
Time wore on. When I had one hundred marks on the board, a guard who had been
watching the last few men turned and made a motion up to Jackson. I heard a
siren sound, and the men pulled away from my wife for a moment. Nothing was said
to me until Jackson again appeared at my side.
"Well now, that's not bad. Not bad at all.." he said, motioning to the
clipboard. "One hundred of mah fine specimens of manhood have delighted in the
charms of yore lovely wife." He pointed at her body.
Denise was twitching rapidly back and forth, her body covered with sweat and
cum. The river of cum draining from her abused pussy made a small pool at the
base of the platform. It drained off her body on all sides, clumping wetly. Her
marvelous breasts were all but covered in it, red and raw from being pawed and
handled. It pooled in the nape of her neck. I could barely even look at her
face. Streams of cum lay tangled and drying, crusting on her skin. The semen
clogged her eyes and nose, I could see her bubbling breath escaping her nose in
agonized wheezes.
"Ah think it's time to take a break for a while, don't you?" He motioned for one
of the guards. The guard moved up and roughly pulled the gag away from Denise,
gingerly trying not to touch the commingled sperm covering her.
"uhhh..oh god....." she mumbled. She was incoherent.
"Yore wife surely does have a tremendous amount of that messy jizzum all over
her, doesn't she?" he cackled at me. "Wah, if I didn't know better, I'd say
she's wasted a lot of it, don't y'all think? Such a shame."
I could only look at him in disbelief and disgusted wonder.
He nodded again to the guard. He reached down below the plaform and brought up
some odd looking device. Placing it behind Denise's head, he pushed forward with
it. It forced her head up and clamped down on either side. She was immobilized,
unable to turn her head to either side or relax it back in line with her prone
body. Her neck must have been painfully stretched to have her head tilted at
such and angle. I heard her moan again. The sperm on her face that hadn't
already dried to a flaky crust began to drool downwards.
"Ah think we'll give her little snatch a rest for a while, huh? She must be
awfully thirsty after this ordeal, don'cha think? Think she might like a little
drink or two?" I could only guess at what he had in mind.
"We're gonna have a little game go on now - we call it 'spray the bitch's face'
- ah'm sure you'all gonna enjoy it, won't ya?"
I shuddered. Denise was about to experience the very thing she hated most.
End of Part Two
