Thread: El Cereso Prison (Steel Butterfly & Adam)

The occasional lewd shouts and harsh comments reached her ears and yet Joanne barely registered them. She heard them, perhaps even understood the suggestions which had been made concerning her person - or in most cases, specific parts of her person. And still she did not respond, the look in her eyes still tense as she stared at the man in front of her. Her slender shoulders almost slumped in relief when she felt the pressure of his touch disappear, even more so because it had become painfully obvious that he was letting her. That little fact, reflected in his old but yet strong and sinewy arms, was what kept her on edge. What kept her from moving further away from him, suddenly scared that she would trigger a whole different response when she moved too quickly. Of course everything here kept her on edge the occasional shouts and laughter a clear reminder of the fact that she would not be safe here for long even if she managed to handle this situation. Which... She did? Joanne's eyes widened with surprise when the man suddenly began to sob, holding her hands like she was the most precious thing on earth. How anyone could regard her as such in her current state - shivering, cold and incredibly tense, an almost feverish look in her eyes - was beyond the former research journalist. But if this man could be put at ease with empty words from her frightened person, then she would settle for it. But of course it was not meant to be and soon Joanne found her eyes widening in fear rather than mere surprise, the feeble hints of compassion chased away by disgust and panic when she felt his calloused hands drawing hers closer to him. She inhaled sharply when her cold hand was pressed against his sweaty skin, feverishly trying to pull her hand away. It served only to cover her palm with more sweat, her fingers trailing his filthy skin even more while he continued to guide her hand with incredible force. Within moments she felt how her hands enclosed something warmer, the flesh stiff underneath the touch of her now grease-covered hand. The woman visibly paled as she realized what her slender fingers were forced to caress, his filthy digits pressing hers tightly against the grease-covered shaft, moving them up and down as if it were his own. His words, accompanied by bursts of warm, nauseating breathing on her face, sent her shivering - the little droplets of saliva filling her with a quiet but intense disgust while el Strangulador continued to describe what he had done to the girls. Each of his words was emphasized by a forceful squeeze of his hand, forcing her extremely reluctant hand to dig into the stiff flesh of his manhood as he rubbed it up and down. As his pace intensified, Joanne felt increasingly panicked, disgust and anger coming in at a close second. Her breath was hurried now, mirroring her feverish attempts to free her captive hand when he suddenly assaulted her in yet another manner. She gasped in shock when his other hand found her breast before clenching her jaws in pain. His hand molded her tender flesh without any tenderness - whatever pity she might have felt for the men now completely gone. The woman found that tears were stinging in her eyes anew - those thrice-cursed tears - as she continued her futile struggling against either of his grasps. When he suddenly released one of her hands - the now smeared and greasy hand no longer pressed around the eagerly throbbing member - Joanne felt everything but relieved. Eyes-wide, Joanne stared at the now loudly chuckling man - her soft growling when she found her other breast subject to his harsh touch easily drowned out by his cruel laughter. She felt herself trembling, shaking and realized that it was no longer merely from the cold, for her panic and anger had fueled her shivering body with a tense and feverish heat. It was fear, panic, anger - shock upon hearing the man's vile words and sheer indignation as she thought about those two girls. Those poor, poor girls. The anger which rose upon the man's last question tipped the scales in favor of the anger, a new warmth spreading through her body upon hearing the despicable undertone of accusation in his voice - in his voice. He, who had abused, raped and murdered at least two girls without any sign of remorse. The accusation - or even the intent of accusing her, whether it was her-Julia or her-Joanne, was infuriating enough for the naked woman to forget about self-preservation. Instead, her free hand rose up with surprising speed as she lifted her arm. The movement was followed by a loud smacking sound as the greasy hand impacted with the cracked skin on the man's face. You pig! she hissed, readying her by now trembling hand for another satisfactory meeting with his face. I am not your Julia! she sneered, her voice trembling with emotion in manner similar to the rest of her captive body. The fingers of her other hand began digging into the skin of one of the man's hand and Joanne pulled with all her might at it, hoping to release her own tortured breasts as she more fiercely renewed her attempts to move away from him.