A Night Out Ballin' It was a quiet night on the lake. As it was every summer, it was hot and muggy, even long after the sun had faded away beneath the horizon. The crickets were singing and a keen eye could spot any number of alligators cruising along the surface of the murky water. Lake Quincy was a favorite for outdoorsmen. They traveled from all over to fish the dark, brackish waters, hoping to reel in a "big 'un" from what was reputed to be one of the world's most prolific bass and catfish populations. The only other reason to visit was to serve time at the prison, located at the Southern tip of the lake. A monument to a crime-ridden society and the war against illegal drugs, it's high, chain-link fences, decorated with rolls upon rolls of razor wire, were easily visible from the lakeshore. The prison accounted for over ninety-percent of Quincy Count' employment. Other than peanut farming, there just wasn't a whole lot that a man could do to make a living, so babysitting the rejects of society became the dull destiny of many, but it fed their families. On the Northeast shore, were the same crickets could be heard singing, all of the cabins in the Quincy County Campground were dark and empty. except for one. The fishermen usually traveled in big, fully loaded RVs, and parked them right at the edge of the lake, renting spaces with electrical and water hook-ups. The cabins, however, were a favorite for locals looking for a secluded, private location to enjoy clandestine, often nocturnal, meetings. Knowing his customers - and their habits - well, the manager had installed hot tubs in four of the cabins, and all had large, color televisions, featuring three channels showing porno movies, 24-hours-a-day. Underneath the red, satin sheets, there were plastic covers over the mattresses, and large mirrors were bolted to the ceiling above the beds. There were two white men standing outside the door of Cabin #2, both of them holding shotguns and a pile of chains, shackles, and handcuffs, was at their feet. They wore dark brown pants and tan shirts with badges on their chests. Semi-automatic handguns were in holsters on their belts, and a high-powered hunting rifle, outfitted with a night-vision scope, was propped up against the wall between them. They were both puffing on cigarettes, looking very satisfied, and one of them had left the zipper in his pants undone. Three more men were inside the cabin - one of them white, and the other two, black - drinking tall cans of beer. It was nothing special, just a domestic brand that happened to be on sale at the liquor store, but the black men seemed to be enjoying it much more than the white man was. The white man looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He wore thick-framed glasses and his blond hair was thinning. Although he was a very large, imposing man, in pretty good shape, the paunch around his middle suggested that he had probably enjoyed more than a few tall beers in his life, probably after devouring a slab of red meat. He seemed jovial, like he was at a party. By contrast, the black men, who looked much younger, were grisly, sinewy, and a little on the thin side, but rippled with muscles. The taller one had a goatee, and the other had his hair done into long, tight cornrows that striped his head. Their eyes were dark and wary, and they looked around nervously as they disrobed, tossing their matching, bright-orange jumpsuits into the corner of the room. "Yeah, you should have seen ol' Garrett, out there," the white man said. "He was so nervous that he couldn't even get it up, at first. I think he was kind-of freaked out by the way Clint was whippin' her with that little flogger I got over there. She likes that a lot, especially on her pussy. The black men exchanged uncertain glances, but said nothing. "Anyhow," he continued. "She tried everything, but nothing was gonna get that puppy up, so he just stood there and watched her fucking Clint. After Clint popped inside of her, all of sudden, here comes ol' Garrett with his pecker out, and she didn't have to suck him for more than about a minute before he just blew all over her face. I mean he really splattered her good! He must not have had any in months! I made her clean up for you guys, though. She's in the head, but she ought to be ready by now." Standing up, he set his beer down and stretched his arms up to the ceiling, yawning, and then went to the bathroom door and pounded on it with his fist. "Get your slutty ass out here!" The door opened and a woman emerged, wearing a black bra, matching, thong-style panties, and thigh-high, fishnet stockings. A leather hood was over her head, covering her face from the nose up, like a mask, with blinders snapped over the eyeholes. She had a studded collar around her neck and a thick belt around her waist, affixed with shiny, metal rings. The white man led her out by her hand and fit thick cuffs around her wrists. He clipped the cuffs to her belt, binding her arms to her sides, and smiled as she struggled a little, showing him that they were secure. "Alright fellas," he said with a devilish smile and excitement and anticipation glimmering in his eyes. "She's all yours, now. Enjoy it before you have to go home." Looking uncertain, they stood motionless. "Well, come on," he laughed. "It's alright." He pushed her down to her knees and the two black men rushed forward. They eagerly pushed their big, thick, rock-hard cocks into her face, attacking her with a wild fervor. "Slave, I want you to meet Darius and Roland. Now suck their big, black cocks, 'cause you know that's all your good for." Their cocks looked like two, fat, black snakes trying to slither into the same hole. Blinded, and without the use of her hands, she could do little but hold her mouth open and try to suck whichever was able to fight its way in. "That's it. You pig," the white man sneered. "Suck those big fucking black cocks." Slobber was soon smeared all over her cheeks and she often gagged and choked when their impressive lengths hit the back of her mouth. She coughed repeatedly, and long, gooey strands of bubbly spittle dripped from her chin, dangling precariously until they fell to the floor. Although her face was covered, she appeared to be an older woman, maybe in her forties. She had a shapely figure, but her body was soft and her skin was loose. On her shoulders, a scattering of faint, light-brown, freckles marked her creamy, alabaster complexion, hinting at many years of disagreement with the sun. "Come on, fellas. Get into it," the white man encouraged. "You can play with her tits, if you want. Do whatever you want to her." Her breasts mashed in the grip of the black hands, squishing out between their fingers as they squeezed them. The white man undid her bra and found her red nipples between his fingertips. They looked chewed and leathery, like they had fed babies, before, and he pinched them until she winced, but she didn't stop sucking. He nodded to the black men and smiled when they did the same. "That's it," the white man growled, standing over her with a video camera on his shoulder, aiming it down at the action around her face. "Tell them what the fuck you are?" "I'm a whore," she gasped. "I'm a slut for black cock." "What do you love?" "I love black cum. I'll do anything for it." Almost as if it were his cue, Darius, the black man with the cornrows, grunted and his cock erupted, hosing her red lips and the black hood with thick, potent, white sauce. That must have enough to inspire Roland, who began grunting as he stroked his cock and watched. "Are you gonna cum?" The white man asked excitedly. "Do it in he mouth. Hold her head." Roland took her head in both hands and held her still as he groaned and emptied his nuts in her mouth. She wretched and her body buckled, but she never let his cock - or any of its thick, salty-tasting spew - slip from between her lips. "Been a while for you guys, huh?" The white man laughed. They both nodded their heads, and for the first time, smiles finally creased their lips. "Well, I guess you won't have any trouble getting it up again to fuck her. Will you? Right now, though, I'm going to have her help you get used to something that you're going to have to learn to like, if you don't behave and keep quiet our little meetings." Palming the top of her head like a basketball, he shook her head around a little and then turned her so that she was facing the bed. "Get over here, Cornrows. Turn around." Moving tentatively, Darius stepped in front of her and turned his back to her. "Come on. Bend over." Somewhat reluctantly, he did, and the white man pushed her face into the Darius' ass. "There you go, slut. Eat his fucking asshole with your tongue." The white man laughed as he knelt down and moved his video camera in close, watching in the eyepiece as her tongue slithered up into the Darius' asshole. "You know what they call that back at the house, don't you? That's a salad tossing, and you won't get it from any white girl when you're over there. You'll have to find yourself a little punk to give it to you. Just think about that when you can't hardly keep from telling any of your homeboys about how much fun you had, tonight." There was no indication that she was squeamish about what she was doing, at all. She tongued and licked and even sucked his asshole, her lips making smacking and popping noises. "Alright, Cornrows. You're done," he said, apparently satisfied that he had accomplished what he had intended. He pointed to Roland and nodded towards the bed. "You're next. Assume the position." When he bent over the bed, the white man pushed her head forward into another face-full of black ass. Again, she tongued and licked and sucked, lapping away without any reservations. After he had seen enough, the white man helped her to her feet, and when Roland stood up and moved out of the way, he roughly tossed her onto the bed. Working quickly, he pulled her panties down her legs, dragged her back towards him by her ankles, then turned her over onto her stomach and bent her over the edge of the bed. He stuffed a rubber ball gag into her mouth and buckled its straps tightly behind her head. "Come on, cornrows," he said. "You're up." Jumping to attention, almost as if he had been ordered, Darius moved in behind her and aimed his rock-hard, black pole at her pussy. "Whoa there, homeboy," he said firmly. "That's the white man's world with this slut. I keep it nice and tight for myself. You'll wreck it with that big fucker." Setting the camera down, momentarily, he found a strip of condoms on the dresser and handed one to the black man. He then grabbed a small tube of lubricant and squeezed some down her crack. "Put that on. I can't have her gettin' any shit from you boys. You can go in here," he said, dipping the tip of a finger into her tight-puckered, pink asshole. "You understand, right? Just think of this as a time before good ol' Dr. Martin Luther King raised such a ruckus and all you colored boys had to use the back door." For a split-second, an insulted scowl came over Darius' face, but it quickly disappeared and he rolled the condom over his cock, then touched it to her asshole, gingerly nudging it forward. "Don't worry, man. She's had plenty of 'em just as big as yours in there. Go ahead and drive that nigger rod home." Although he had hidden it well, the Darius' had obviously been infuriated by what the white man had said, and he took it out on the white woman's ass. Quite suddenly, he shoved his cock into her asshole with one, quick thrust, and drilled away at her with a force that sent waves of flesh rolling over her ass. He stretched her out magnificently as he repeatedly drove into her hole, and the fit was so tight that her tender, pink insides seemed to cling to the shaft of his cock when he pulled back out. Even with the ball gag in, she could be heard squealing by Garrett and Clint, standing outside. "Yeah! That's it boy. Give 'er that nigger dick! Fuck that white ass!" Darius worked harder and faster until he finally heaved forward and collapsed over her, his dick still embedded deep inside her. For a moment, he lay there, breathing heavily, and when stood up and pulled his cock out, her asshole remained wide-open. Roland already had a condom on and jumped right in, filling her gaping asshole with his much bigger and thicker, enormous black dick. "That's it boy. Fuck that white pig with your big fucking nigger cock! Fuck her worn-out, slutty ass!" Roland wasn't quite as rough, but only because his cock was so big that he couldn't quite keep it fully erect, and he had to struggle to force it in. It bent as he stuffed it in, but eventually, it stiffened, and he was then able to ream her out with considerable ferocity. "There you go, boy. Tear that white ass up!" His violent thrusts rocked her body and her hanging tits flailed about beneath her, wildly slapping against each other. She was obviously in great pain and her heard tossed around violently as she wailed out in muffled howls of agony. Each stroke came stronger and more forcefully, until he, too, collapsed over her. "Okay, fellas. Your little night-out of balling has come to end. You two princesses have to get back to the house before midnight." He banged his fist on the wall and the cabin door opened. Garrett and Clint stepped in, and the black men quickly dressed in their orange jumpsuits, then were shackled, cuffed, and led away. "See y'all tomorrow," he called out as they left. He sat down next to the woman, who was lying face down on the bed, motionless, and he unbuckled the ball gag. The rubber ball had deep, teeth marks imbedded in it and streams of drying tears traced down from beneath her mask. "Am I bleeding?" "Not that I can see," he answered after checking her asshole with two fingers that easily slid in, almost without her even noticing. "They're new, huh?" She whimpered, just barely mustering the strength to roll over. "Yeah. When they came in last week, I noticed their potential when the boys strip-searched them in processing. Hung like a couple of fucking horses, huh?" "Oh my God. They hurt worse than anyone else has. especially that second guy." "You liked it, though. Didn't you?" "Yes, master." "I think I really pissed them off with all of that talk about nigger cock and nigger dick. The Dr. King shit always gets to 'em, too." "Jesus Christ, I know. I could feel that they were pissed off. I thought they were going to kill me. How long do they have?" "They've both got six-to-ten, and when I get there tests back from the infirmary, you can start having them bareback, if they check out." "Can they have my pussy, then?" She asked. "We'll see if you earn it." "Well," she cooed. "What am I going to have to do?" "You can start by turning over for me. I'm going take a little visit in the back door, myself. I want to feel just how much they opened you up. His cock certainly wasn't as big as the black men's cocks were, but her ass was burning and it hurt her even worse to have him plunder her after all that she had already been through. "Tell me what a filthy fucking slut you are?" He demanded as he throttled her. "I'm a slut," she howled. "I'm a no-good slut. I'm a worthless whore! I'm a dirty, little, worthless whore!" "What do you want?" He hissed. "I want them to fuck my pussy. I want their nigger seed inside me and I want to get pregnant and have their babies!" "Why? 'Cause you want everyone to see your half-nigger kids?" "Oh God, yes! Then they'll know what a slut I am." He was fierce and reckless, and when he was ready to cum, he pulled the mask off of her head and let his load drip into the mess of bright-red hair that spilled out of it. "Yeah," he sneered. "There's some for your old man to find when he runs his fingers through your hair, later tonight." "Thank you, master," she panted. "Thank you." "Now. Do you want me to tie you up and whip your pussy some more, before I leave?" "Yes. Please, master." "Okay. I'm in a good mood and you were a good slut, tonight. I'm going to take you into the bathroom and piss on you, first, though." When they returned from the bathroom, her red hair was dripping wet and clung to the sides of her face. He disconnected the cuffs on her wrists from the belt around her waist, and tossed her down on the bed. Reaching into a duffel bag on the floor beside the bed, he removed two additional sets of cuffs, three lengths of nylon rope, and the leather flogger that Garrett had used on her, earlier. He fit one set of cuffs around each of her ankles, and the other set around each of her arms, just above her elbows, then went to work with the lengths of rope. Starting at her left ankle, he tied a knot into the silver ring on the cuff, then pushed her leg back towards her left shoulder, stretching it out as far away from her body as possible. He coiled the rope around the nearby bedpost, anchoring it tightly, and then drew the rope down to her left wrist, where he tied the end of the rope to buckle on that cuff. He repeated the entire process on her right side, but still wasn't through with his work. As a finishing touch, he tied one end of the rope to the cuff above her left elbow, tossed it underneath the bed, drew it tight, and then tied the other end to the cuff above her right elbow, pinning them down. She was left spread-eagled and incapable of movement, helpless to resist anyone or anything. Outside, he heard a motorcycle's engine. He went to the window and looked out, but saw nothing. Turning back around with a broad smile, he picked up the flogger and stood over her, smiling as he pictured the red marks that the thin, leather straps would leave on her bald pussy. His arm raised and a maniacal smile filled his face as the flogger rushed downward. He expected to hear the crisp "Thwaack" of leather meeting skin, and her pained cry of pleasure, but instead, he only heard a loud crash and the splintering of wood, followed by the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped. "Don't you even fuckin' think about movin' you Goddamn cracker motherfucker!" The last thing that he would remember, was the room beginning to spin, just before someone shut the lights off. Continued In "JAIL BREAK"