("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text












Archive name: prison.txt (FF, nc, strip search)
Authors name: Spoonbender (spoonbender@hotmail.com)
Story title : Prison

------------------------------------------------------
This is all total fabrication. Copyright (c) 1998 
Spoonbender. Can be copied and distributed freely but 
not commercially as long as it remains intact and 
isn't changed in any way. Post your views on it. Who 
knows? Maybe I'll write the full length version if 
you think its worth it.
------------------------------------------------------

Prison (FF, nc) 
by Spoonbender (spoonbender@hotmail.com )

***

It was a wild holiday! Two girls away from home on 
their own. 18, beautiful and on their first trip 
abroad. Hot nights, dusky, handsome men. Wasp waisted 
and tight butted. Lust and Romance.

The hired car, the two male hitchhikers. Handsome 
young men. Who ducked out of the car when they saw 
the Police roadblock in the distance.

The car-search. The colt 45 and the detonators, 
pushed down the back of the seat.

The trial! Terrorism was rife. Must set an example to 
foreign terrorists. Teach them not to come here. Ten 
years! Ten years or ... one year in Playas de Meurte 
prison. Their choice. Hurry now make your choice. One 
year or ten? Why? No time to explain, make your 
choice. One, of course, but why? You'll see! One 
year, it can't be that bad can it? Better than ten 
surely? They'd be twenty-eight when they got out. 
They had no choice, none, right?

The tall blonde girl walked with a faintly haughty 
air. Head held back, shoulders straight. Long 
bedenimned legs, peaches and cream completion, 
striding purposefully. Large green eyes, a shadow of 
fear, looking, looking. Seeing the unpainted walls, 
the hard eyes. The warders. The bars, the cage, the 
prison. Her friend, smaller, wide-eyed and pretty, 
dark hair, Italianate, olive skin. Classical roman 
beauty. Noo Yawk Roman.

"Stand right there," said the Senior Guard, 
indicating the line.

They obeyed, what else could they do?

"Strip!" They didn't move. "STRIP!" He cracked his 
hand flat on the battered wooden desk, which barely 
concealed his bulk. "...Or we'll do it for you!"

Slowly the girls started to pull off their clothes. 
The blonde was gorgeous, a long lean body, bouncy but 
firm breasts, a slightly unusual face like she was in 
the midst of a mild, but permanent scowl. Composure 
slipping away with her clothes.

The dark haired one, slightly smaller, slightly 
fleshier, but pretty. Oh so pretty! Delectable, 
unattainable, immensely fuckable. Shaking in fear, 
fingers having difficulty controlling recalcitrant 
buttons.

One the body, the other the looks. Body and Looks. 
Together they would have made the composite perfect 
woman. Alone they were still very desirable. 
Especially for 1200 men, most of whom hadn't seen a 
woman for many a year.

Naked they trembled before the Guard and his 
sniggering henchmen. One girl with anger the other 
with shame. Handcuffs were clicked onto their wrists, 
which were then hauled above their heads on pulleys 
that bespoke years of constant use. Legs spread 
apart, tied to brooms, their privates no longer 
private.

"You can't do this to us, we're American Citizens!"

The crack of a hand across a soft, downy cheek. Echos 
in the barren room. Long blonde hair flying.

"Pthuw! You are terrorist shit! You kill mothers and 
babies. You're mine now, I do what I want to you, 
there's no one to stop me."

Then a clash of keys and a section of the bars swung 
open to admit a group of rough dirty looking men. 
Eyes roving over their vulnerable bodies, the girls 
endured. Hands hefting breasts, fingers sliding into 
rectums, vaginas, mouths. A constant bombardment of 
probing digits over squirming, sweating, fearful 
young bodies. Catcalls, body odour, foul breath and 
grimy hands. Hands everywhere. 

The girls endured. In shame.

The Senior Guard pointing and shouting. Men out 
shouting each other. The exchange of money. The girls 
being lowered and their keys handed over to the 
successful bidder. Humiliation and outright fear as 
they were manhandled through the bars into the heart 
of the prison. The senior guard's taunts fading as 
they were dragged into the filthy hellhole.

"Don't worry terroristas, the guards called after 
them, we won't bother you. We don't come into the 
prison; we're not crazy, so you can have as much fun 
as you want. Ha ha. Many men will love you. Every day 
... You should have taken the ten years you foolish 
Americans!"


FOOTNOTE: I'm looking for a lady who enjoys my type 
of writing and who is prepared to collaborate with me 
on future stories. You will naturally share the 
credit, such as it is. If you are her and you want to 
help weave your own fantasy. Then please email me.

Spoonbender

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 13