.."Suddenly, she stopped. She stood up and began stripping off her own clothes. Her top pulled over her head, exposing those luscious C-cups that I...love so well. She slid her fingers into the tops of her panties and slid them down her legs taking the jeans along too. "On your knees, bitch" she barked, "don't look at me."I quickly complied, knowing, accepting that I was her slut, her bitch. I flipped over, got on my knees, and tried to get comfortable. I knew what was going to happen. . You're young, you're not half bad looking, and you have a good job. Hell, you can even have a shot at Dolly Dickinson." Ruth told you?"Beth giggled. "We even rented one of her movies. Talk about jail bait!" She's changed. She looks like a normal person in real life. I hope she can make it through her parole." I met her ex-roomy when I picked up her stuff. She's a Goth chick. Black hair, white skin, and a big cobra tattooed over her left shoulder. I couldn't help staring at her cleavage. Does. It had taken her less than a week to realize her hands could not endure the constant beating of the trial. And on the morning of her fourth day, she showed up to the training yard with thick strips of cloth securely tied from her elbows to her knuckles.I took a sense of pride in watching her work. She displayed a single minded determination in her training. No matter how long we worked in the yard, no matter the weather, no matter the circumstances. She simply refused to let the trial of sand. We were just havin a little fun with the reverend," Summers whined. "Maybe it's payback time."Dillon started to explain the difference between fun and bodily assault but decided it would be a waste of time. Summers' was drunk and angry; the facts weren't going to change his mind."You men were lucky to just go to jail; I almost shot all three of you that night. Don't push me too far Mister." Dillon stared at the man with cold dead looking eyes. He pulled the oilskin duster he wore back away from.