Hard Time for Rashanta | Neal's Home Page | ASSTR Home Page
CAUTION: This story is not politically correct. It includes the humiliation and degradation of willing and maybe not so willing black women. The "n" word is used liberally.
by Neal
As the hours ticked by, Rashanta's anger grew. The taste of the white attorney's dick burned in her mouth despite her attempts to wash it out. She vowed to herself that those responsible for her humiliations would all be made to pay for it. All that was needed, she thought, was to get word out of this god forsaken jail to her sister or her boss and her rescue was assured.
The slender black woman heard the sound of the cell door opening. She rolled over to see a deputy standing just outside the bars. He looked like the same one who'd brought Desiree the stale donuts.
"Alright, ladies," he said with a mocking tone, "on your feet. Time for your date with justice. We've got to get you ready and run you all over to the courthouse for arraignment. Let's shake it up!"
At last, thought Rashanta, this is the chance she needed. If they thought she'd be afraid to speak up in court about the abuses she'd suffered here they were wrong. The black woman began considering exactly how she'd tell the judge about what was going on here. The feelings of powerlessness she'd been experiencing began to be replaced with the hope that comes with having a plan of action.
She and Desiree climbed out of their bunks and were walked down the corridor they'd been brought in through. The deputy pressed the buzzer on the door that led to the examination room where they'd been forced to undergo a full body cavity search the day they were processed in.
The door clicked and the deputy pushed it open and pushed his charges through it. Deputy Faldo was waiting for them inside, holding the chains and cuffs they'd been shackled with on the trip from the sheriff's office to the jail.
"Miss me?" he asked, grinning at the hapless negro women.
Rashanta merely glared at him, saying nothing.
"Ok, be that way," said the fat deputy with resignation. "Don't matter no how. Standard procedure is to transport prisoners in restraints."
"I suppose you'll watch as we change back into our clothes?" said Rashanta contemptuously.
"Hell, no!" the white man said cheerfully. "You bitches are goin' over there 'as is'. You won't be needin' those duds any time soon."
Deputy Faldo stooped and fastened the cuffs to Rashanta's ankles. Standing, he fastened the other pair of cuffs to her wrists. The shortness of the chain connecting the wrist cuffs to the ankle cuffs forced the slender negress to stoop slightly. She watched as he repeated the procedure on Desiree.
The white man hit the buzzer and in a moment the outer clicked. He pushed the door open and pushed the negro women stooped and shuffling through it to the parking lot. Rashanta blinked in the bright sunlight.
The slender black woman was humiliated at being forced to shuffle across the parking lot to the waiting van stooped over with her ankles chained together. Ordinary people with business at the jail stopped and stared at the two shackled negresses. She could feel the wind on her skin and between her legs. Her breasts bounced freely. She was very aware of being naked under the orange prison gown and felt very vulnerable and exposed. Her face burned with shame and anger.
The deputy opened the back door of the van.
"In you go, ladies," he said jovially, slamming the door behind them after they entered.
Rashanta and Desiree climbed into the back of the van while passersby watched. They sat on the benches inside as Deputy Faldo slammed the door shut behind them. They felt the van rock as he hefted his weight behind the wheel. The engine started and they were moving.
"This isn't right, Dee Dee," Rashanta said after a few minutes. "They can't treat people this way and get away with it."
"I don't know what you think you gonna do 'bout it, girl," Desiree replied. "It's been like this long as I kin remember."
"It's not legal, either," the older woman informed her. "I think somebody just has to speak up."
"You better watch yourse'f, girl!" warned the big black girl. "You don't know what you messin' wit'."
Rashanta felt a little sorry for Desiree and the other black women who'd been treated like animals at the jail by the deputies and that lecherous public defender. She silently vowed to put a stop to it.
The van pulled to a stop and shook slightly as Deputy Faldo climbed out and came around the back to open the door. It had been dark inside so the sudden shock of bright sunlight caused the two chained prisoners to to blink as they were led out into the parking lot by the courthouse.
Rashanta noticed a small crowd of onlookers watching as she and Desiree were led shuffling in their chains from the van to the prisoner's entrance to the building. Stooped over with her hands cuffed together, she could feel her bare breasts swinging beneath the thin orange prison gown that was all that covered her naked brown body. The short chain connecting her wrist cuffs to the chain between the manacles on her ankles jangled as she moved. The gawkers only added to he humiliation and added to her determination.
"Serves you right, you fat whore!" shouted a white teenaged boy standing in crowd of other boys. "Now you goin' where you belong!"
"Tha's the sheriff's boy," said Desiree in a low voice. "Him an' his damn friends."
"Shut up, Dee Dee," demanded Deputy Faldo. "Prisoners ain't allowed to talk."
"Who's your friend?" the boy went on. "Kinda old, but she's got a nice ass on her! Hey! You! You another whore like Dee Dee? I can see your boobs shakin', nigger! I got to have me some o' that! How much for me an' my buds?"
The boy's friends all laughed. Rashanta knew his comments were directed at her and she blushed in spite of herself. She couldn't understand how he was allowed to get away with it.
Deputy Faldo led his charges into the building and sat them on a bench.
"You ladies wait here 'til you called into court," he told them. "No talkin'."
The deputy went to a soda machine near the entrance door and bought a can. He sat down and drank it while they all waited.
"Wallace!" a voice called into the room after about half an hour. "Wallace, grand theft auto!"
Deputy Faldo stood and came over to where the black women were waiting, sitting in chains on the wooden bench. He removed the cuffs from Rashanta's wrists and ankles and walked her through the door into the courtroom.
The room was large with a high ceiling and tall windows along one wall. The room was fairly full of people. Mostly white men in suits and ties, white ladies in similarly profession attire, and a few uniformed deputies.
Rashanta noticed quickly that she was the only black face present. She felt even more exposed and noticeable, clad only in her thin orange prison gown. She could feel the cool air conditioning wafting between her legs on her naked pussy. Her nipples hardened and poked against the fabric. Her face was hot with shame and she avoided eye contact with anyone.
The deputy walked her up to the front of the courtroom where Sam Woodward, the public defender, waited for her. The judge, a white haired man with steel rimmed glasses, looked her over. The bailiff, also gray haired, announced her.
"Case three fifty four, Rashanta Wallace, grand theft auto," he called out.
"How do you plead?" asked the judge perfunctorily.
"This is just the arraignment, girl," Sam whispered to her. "You best plead not guilty for now."
Rashanta glared at him for a minute and then turned towards the judge.
"Not guilty, your honor," she spoke clearly. "Your honor, may I speak?"
"Go ahead," said the judge. "But be quick about it. I want to set bail and move on to the next case. We got a busy morning here."
"Your honor, I'm not from around here and I haven't been able to contact my family or my work," said Rashanta. "My attorney is not looking after my best interests and I have the right to choose my own counsel. Also the conditions at the jail aren't right either. I have rights that aren't being respected."
"Sam?" the judge addressed the lawyer. "What's all this about? You know I don't like it when things don't go smooth."
"I'm sorry, Judge White," Sam apologized.
"I will take care of this now!" said the judge angrily. "Bailiff! Bring that woman to my chambers immediately. This court is in recess for fifteen minutes."
At last, thought Rashanta. Someone in authority in this place was going to listen to her. The gray haired bailiff stepped forward and led the black woman towards a wood paneled door next to where the judge was seated. He opened the door and followed her in.
The judge's office was plushly furnished. Dark wood paneled walls and leather upholstered furniture gave the room a look of formality. A large wooden desk with a high backed chair faced the rest of the room. A minute after entering, the judge came into the room, removed his judicial robe, and hung it on the coat race near the door. He sat behind his desk and looked at the colored woman standing before him.
"Alright Miss... Miss...," Judge White began. "Randy? What's this girl's name"
"Wallace, your honor," answered the bailiff.
"Miss Wallace," stated the judge. "What's all this about? Is there a problem?"
"Yes, your honor," said Rashanta with a measure of relief. "First off, this whole thing is just a misunderstanding with a car rental place. I never stole anything. But the real issue is that I've been prevented from contacting anyone from back home who'd be able to help me. My so called attorney won't help, either. It isn't right."
"I see," the judge responded. "You say there's a problem at the jail?"
"It's deplorable, your honor!" the black woman replied, relaxing in the company of the first person who'd listen to her. "Prisoners are subject to sexual harassment. Black prisoners especially. I was stripped and searched without a female officer present. I wasn't allowed any privacy even in the bathroom! My cell mate was forced to perform a sexual act just to be given food! It's outrageous! And my attorney! That man wouldn't agree to help me unless I submitted to him sexually! And even then he did nothing! He should be disbarred and put in jail!"
"These are very serious charges, young lady," said the judge.
Judge White rose from his seat and walked around to the front of the desk. Rashanta watched him the entire way.
"Randy, I think you know what to do," the judge said to the bailiff.
The gray haired bailiff grabbed the black woman by the shoulders and forced her to bend over, roughly banging her head on the judge's desk. She felt his foot hook the inside of her leg, forcing them wide apart. She heard a zipper unzip and felt her prison gown lifted, revealing her shapely black bubble butt.
"I'm going to teach you how we do things here, girl," the judge announced. "We don't cotton to no damn uppity niggers."
Rashanta felt the head of Judge White's hard cock push between the cheeks of her ass, pressing up against her asshole. She struggled in vain. The bailiff had her pinned down, bent over. She was completely immobilized and utterly helpless. The judge jammed his dick hard up her ass.
"Owww!" cried the negro woman. "You're hurting me! My god! You're raping me!"
"Shut the fuck up, coon bitch," growled Randy.
Rashanta felt him grab her hair with his free hand and press her face into the desk. She felt as if her ass was being split in two. The judges cock was of average length, but it was thick. Her asshole felt as if he might tear it open. He fucked her hard and fast, thrusting his entire length up the helpless negress's ass.
"Shut up and take it," the bailiff warned her, his voice filled with potential violence.
"Ohhh...," she moaned in pain. "Please! I'm begging you to stop!"
Judge White only pounded himself into Rashanta harder. Tears streamed down the negro's face. She felt his cock far up her rectum. She had only consented to anal sex from Mr. Davidson in order to advance her career. He at least had been somewhat gentle with her and she'd pretended to like it. Now she was in agony as the white haired man used her brutally with no concern for her pain. In fact, her cries seemed to excite him and cause him to hurt her even more.
"That's it, cunt," the judge said breathlessly. "Go ahead and cry. Nobody can hear you. And if they could, they wouldn't do anything about it except wait for their turn with you."
The white haired man continued to fuck her relentlessly. The pain was excruciating and the black woman sobbed as she was raped. Finally she felt him thrust even deeper inside her ass and pause. The hot jets of semen she felt came as a relief indicating that her immediate ordeal was almost over.
"Oh, fuck!" the judge said, the exertion straining his voice. "Fuck! You dumb fucking monkey. You take it. Take it up your nigger ass, you dumb cunt."
At last Judge White withdrew from her defiled orifice. Rashanta's asshole was throbbing with pain. She felt the bailiff roughly pull her back up into a standing position. Only briefly, though, because next he forced her down onto her knees in front of the judge, his flaccid cock inches from her face.
"Suck it, nigger," ordered the bailiff. "Clean the judge's dick off and do it now."
"You bastards!" she cried.
Whap! The bailiff slapped the negro hard across the face knocking her to the floor.
"Stupid nigger!" the bailiff said with disgust. "Ain't you learned nothin' yet? Get up! Get up on your knees and clean his honor's dick off if you know what's good for you!"
Shocked and sniveling, Rashanta got back on her knees. Tears still streaming down her cheeks, her nose running. She took the judge's foul member and started licking. The taste made her gag.
"You got five seconds to do like you're told, bitch," warned the bailiff.
The black woman opened her lips and slid the judge's cock into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked.
"That's more like it, nigger," said the bailiff, pleased at her submission. "You will learn your place and act right."
Rashanta licked his dick clean and looked up at him. The judge grabbed her by the hair and lifted her. She struggled to her feet and faced him.
"Do we have an understanding now, girl?" the judge asked her without releasing his grip.
"Yes," she said softly, looking down.
Judge White jerked Rashanta's head up until their eyes met.
"Yes what?" he demanded.
"Yes, your honor," said Rashanta, her voice cracking. "We have an understanding."
"So I'm not going to hear any more of this nonsense in my courtroom?" asked the judge.
"No, your honor," she agreed.
The judge turned to the bailiff.
"You want a turn with her, Randy?" he asked.
"Well, judge," the bailiff replied. "You know I'd love to, but recess is almost up."
"Maybe later, then," said the white haired man. "Take her back out there."
"Right away, your honor," said Randy. "Let's go, nigger."
The bailiff walked the sniveling negro woman back into the courtroom. She knew she was trapped and helpless now. The authorities. Her lawyer. Even the judge. She'd never been in a position that she couldn't use her body to her advantage. Now these men were just using it and she was getting nothing in return. Nothing, that is, other than pain and degradation.
Randy left Rashanta standing next to Sam at the defendant's table. The lawyer looked at her and grinned. Suddenly she realized that the whole court must have heard at least some of the goings on in the judge's chambers. Her face was hot with humiliation. Her ass continued to throb with pain. She could feel the semen leaking out of her asshole and dripping down her leg.
"Did the judge get you straightened out, girl?" asked Sam.
"Yes, he did," Rashanta said softly.
"Good," he grinned again. "I figured he would."
"All rise!" called the bailiff as the judge entered from his chambers.
Judge White sat down and gavelled the court to order.
"Where were we?" he asked. "Was a plea entered?"
"Not guilty, your honor," said Sam.
"Very well," the judge replied. "Bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars, cash or bond. Next case."
Judge White struck the gavel down and Deputy Faldo led Rashanta away back to the waiting room. He sat her down on the bench and refastened her restraints. Desiree was nowhere to be seen. Sitting down stretched her a little, sending a fresh jolt of pain through her body starting from her ass.
"Ass tender?" the deputy asked, grinning.
Rashanta looked at him, defeated.
"Well, they don't call the judge 'hard on Harry' for nothing," chuckled Deputy Faldo.
With that, the white deputy went back to his seat by the soda machine and picked up a newspaper someone had discarded and started to read. The colored woman was left sitting on the bench in chains, a searing pain in her ass and a wet spot on the back of her prison gown reminding her of how justice was served in this town.
After about another ten minutes, Deputy Faldo went back towards the courtroom, returning a few minutes later with Desiree. He put the big black girl in chains as he had Rashanta.
"That's all the excitement for today, ladies," he announced. "Time to head back to your cages now. Let's move it."
Once again, Rashanta felt totally exposed as the deputy led the two negresses across the parking lot to the van. Stooped and shuffling along through the gravel, her breasts jiggling with each step, the chains clanking, she knew every eye was upon her and enjoying her humiliation.
The black woman's desperate optimism upon arrival here had been replaced by devastating defeat. She hung her head and didn't look up at the onlookers this time and didn't even listen to the taunts.
As the door to the van slammed shut, a single tear rolled down Rashanta's cheek. She had no more ideas of how she was going to get out of this situation. How could she bestow favors on men who could easily just take them from her anyways?
"Din't go like you thought, girl?" asked Desiree.
"I can't believe what happened!" exclaimed Rashanta. "I told that judge about what was going on and he called a recess. I thought he was going to listen to me! Instead he... Oh gawd, Dee Dee!"
"I know, girl," the big girl attempted to console her. "That fuckin' judge. Hard on Harry. He's mean."
"You know what happened?" Rashanta said, shocked.
"Shit yeah!" said Desiree. "It's all over the courthouse. How old hard on boned you in th' ass!"
"Oh my god!" cried the older woman. "That bastard raped me! And all those people knew it! And nobody did shit about it!"
"You gots to understands this place, girl," said the big black girl. "That's jus' the way it is 'round here. Ain't nothin' nobody kin do 'bout it."
More tears flowed, but no more words were exchanged between the two black women. Desiree realized that she was only making her cell mate feel worse. Rashanta was beginning to understand just how things worked in this town. The town she'd never intended to visit. The town she couldn't escape from.
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