Thread: El Cereso Prison (Steel Butterfly & Adam)

The old man kept banging her bruised head against the bed, while piercing her tight cunt with his sloppy cock in the same pace. Every bang sent two waves of pain through her body, one from her head and one from her stretched pussy, intensifying each other as they met. But every time he thrust into her the pain felt a little more distant as her oxygen supply slowly depleted. Slowly the world around her seemed to collapse into itself and disappear until all that existed was his relentless hands around her slender neck and his lumpy cock inside her ravaged pussy. Then they faded away as well, together with the pain, and all that remained was darkness. - - - - - - - - - A sudden bright light combined with the sharp, loud, electronic sound of ringing bell brought Joanne back to reality. She was lying on the cold, dirty concrete floor in an uncomfortable position probably her cell mate had just pushed the lifeless rag doll out of the bed once he was done with it. Her throat was dry, and her neck, that was now covered with bruises, still hurt. She was covered in dried in sweat. Judging from the foul smell, it was just as much his as hers. Some cold and sticky fluid had run down the inside of her leg from her pussy, and it did not take a lot of imagination to guess what it was. As soon as she just slightly tensioned a muscle, a sour pain emanating from her butt was added to the cacophony of ailments. The same thick fluid had dripped from her asshole, forming a little pool on the floor. On top of his bed the old man lied in the exact same position, with his hands joined over his belly, as he had when she was first thrown into the cell. He showed no sign of the nights activities, it was almost like it never even happened. In the bight, white light coming from a light bulb in the ceiling covered by a metal grid, the cell seamed even less hospitable. The floor was covered in a greasy layer of filth, the porcelain of the toilet was cracked and stained and a smell of urine rose from it, and not even the cheats seemed to have been changed in anticipation of her arrival. They were covered in stains of all sorts, some of them looking alarmingly much like blood. On the grey wall above her bed, some previous inmate who must have had an abnormal sense of irony had carved the word FREEDOM in large letters. A series of clicking sounds echoed through the hall, as the looks of the cells were automatically opened. Soon the wide corridor outside was flooded with inmates, all wearing orange overalls. The room filled up with shatter, of which she could only hear fragments Is the new one still alive?, Here's your cigarets., I hope her pussy isn't all loosened up before I get to her. Surprisingly, they did not crowd around her cell door to get a look at the new arrival, on the contrary they seemed to carefully avoid it like if it was infected with the plague. Or more precisely, they were avoiding the two men who stood in front of the bars, both wearing orange inmate dresses. One of them was huge, no matter along which dimension you measured him. He was well above two meters tall, his broad shoulders spanned so wide he almost had to walk sideways through doorways, and his fat, swollen belly stretched the cloth of his overall. It was hard to tell where his thick neck and all his dewlaps ended and his bald head begun, and his face seemed somewhat undersized for the fat head. Maybe that was good, because it was no beautiful sight. Most of his round nose was missing it looked like someone had cut it off with a knife. His left eye was grey, and instead of his right one there were a blank porcelain ball without even an iris painted on it. Despite all this the man did not look mean instead the big smile over his dry lips just mad him look a bit... stupid. The man standing next to him looked small in comparison. However, he showed mush more class. His black hair was water combed into a perfect back slick, and on his upper lips below his slim, pointy noise a meticulously kept thick, black mustache rested, looking a bit like something that could be expected to appear in a porno from the seventies. His taut skin with its Latino complexion gave no hints to his age, but there were something in his stern dark eyes that signaled that he had been in this game for a while. In contrast to the tall man beside him, who's hairy, dirty feet were bare, he wore a pair of shining, black dress shoes in leather. As the lock clicked open, he turned to the big one. Jordn, will you? he said in a calm voice, and the big one promptly stepped forward and flung the barred door open with a bang. Girl out, hit boy. he repeated over and over again in Spanish with a thick mushy voice, as if he had trouble memorizing the simple order. Lifting Joanne up by her shoulder, he said Girl out! a last time, smiling even wider and nodding as if he was proud of himself, before he tossed her body out of the cell. To him, she did not more than a pillow. She landed with her head right at the black lustrous shoes, and the man in them courteously extended a hand to help her up on her feet. When it was Joanne who stood beside him, and not Jordn, he suddenly did not seem so small anymore. Welcome to El Cereso, Joanne Rachel Karcher. he said in a polite and professional tone. Even though Joanne stood there stark naked in front of him, he did not avert his dark eyes from hers for a second. I am Joaquin Cortez, the concejal of mister Jos Cruz Fuentes. he explained in flawless English. The name of his master was by no means unknown to her - it was the younger brother of the infamous Vicente Carrillo Fuentes who was the leader of the Juarez cartel, the very cartel she had come to Mexico to expose, and been sent to jail for belonging to.