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Review This Story || Author: Tom of Sweden

Number Four..

Part 03 Third Night


Number Four



  The third night



  At the beginning of his shift that night, he found himself praying that number Four had been transferred out, but he was out of luck. He just couldn’t bear the thought of having her eyes bore into his again, and hoped it would get better as he was more tired later. He put her cell off as long as he could by raping the women in the other cells first. As the number of cells to go was dropping off he had to face the realities of his job. As if in panic he blurted out to his assistants,



  -         I’m taking a break, boys. I’m off to the men’s wing for an errand. I’ll be right back. Hang tight.  


-         Yeah, sah…



  After clearing the massive steel exit door to the ward he started running, as if on the run from number Four or even his own skin. He didn’t calm down until reaching the men’s wing. Roger was his best friend at the facility and had been since he started working there, and they now had similar positions. He interrupted Roger in his rounds and talked him into taking a quick break because of a pressing issue. Loyal as ever Roger agreed.



-         Have you ever felt attracted to an inmate?


-         Yeah, happens all the time. That’s one of the perks of this job.


-         No, I mean like in love?


-         You haven’t talked to any of them have you? You know it’s forbidden.


-         No, it’s just her eyes. How she carries herself…and…. You can hear, can’t you? I’m a mess.


-         Listen, all you need to do is break her. Once her spirit is gone and the magic in the eyes will disappear. Trust me. It sounds to me as if you’ve been too nice to her. Don’t be. All inmates here are scum anyway. Criminals. You know that. They all have it coming to them. Give her your worst.


-         Thanks, Roger. How’s your boyfriend?


-         It’s just super between us and thanks for asking. I really should get back now. I was planning on ducking out a bit early tonight. I’m here if you ever need me again. You know that. Give my greetings to the family.



Although Roger’s words lifted some of the weight off his shoulders, it didn’t solve his immediate concern. He still had to deal with exorcising those cold blue eyes firmly burned into the back of his head. At least he could think a little clearer now. He straightened his shirt and told himself he had a job to do and there was no running from his duties.



He took a deep breath before nodding to his men to follow him into cell number four. Just as they had found her yesterday she was fast asleep. “Quite amazing how she managed to sleep considering the amount of screaming the women in the other cells had done”, he thought to himself. The welts on her back, bottom and legs were now in deep crimson and blue hues and floated together into a huge bruised mass. Her reaction to Ollie’s truncheon was this time was sluggish and didn’t even get her off the mattress. She sat up staring at him with her still cold blue eyes, now bloodshot from all the tears and lack of sleep. As always she didn’t utter a word, just fixed her eyes on him and silently waited. The weight Roger had helped him remove was back on his shoulders.



-         Before raping your ass tonight I think we’re going to have some fun. Go and sit by the trestle and lean against it.


-         Yes, sir.



  She still had her proud voice. Although was quite hoarse now it bugged him to no end. His assistants chained her hands to the trestle with restraints. He knew he wasn’t first since her tits were already badly bruised. She still kept her head up, radiating pride with eyes ever fixed on him. His words were stuck in his throat and as he tried to shake it off he dropped his truncheon, clattering on the floor. His assistants had now turned their eyes on to him rather than their torture subject, which they rarely did. The added pair of eyes did not make this any easier. He gave up trying to be the master of the situation and realised he had to leave it to his assistants.



-         Let her tits have it, boys.



They both drew their truncheons. Number Four knew what was coming well before the first impact and her face distorted to a pained grimace. They let hell rain down mercilessly on her soft and round breasts. She was out of scream by now and all she could utter was a hoarse wheezing. Tears and drool streamed down her once so beautiful face. She never once took her eyes off him and no matter how much he tried to look away he kept finding himself being drawn in by her still powerful gaze. Usually the fact that two tits were bouncing back and forward in front of his eyes would have an unbreakable hypnotic effect. The fact that it was truncheons beating them that caused the breast to do the bouncing should have had an even stronger effect. But nothing could break the pull of her eyes. He was powerless to them. 



Coming home that morning he felt worse than ever before. He was so high strung he managed to got into a pointless argument with his wife and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it. Number Four was so under his skin now that blowing out his brains with his side arm was starting to feel like a balanced way of dealing with his nerves. After apologising to his wife he downed half a bottle of whiskey and was fast asleep.



Review This Story || Author: Tom of Sweden
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