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
"Rise and shine, ladies," called the guard as the lights came on. "Breakfast in 10 minutes."
Rashanta rolled out of her bunk and stood up. The bacon cheeseburger from last night sat like a lump in her stomach. The memory of humbling herself for it, sucking the guard's dick for a half eaten sandwich shamed her again anew. But the memory of being sodomized on the chain gang, and the lingering pain in her ass was worse. The late night visit from the girls humiliated her even more. Betrayed by her body, she'd completely lost control. She knew she'd never last through thirty days of this.
Well, she thought, the choice was obvious. To her shame, she was no stranger to using her body to get what she wanted. Using it to avoid what she didn't want didn't seem like too far a stretch. She'd humiliated herself so many times now that submitting to the sheriff seemed a small price to pay to stay off the chain gang and away from the girls.
Rusty came by and opened up her cell.
"Let's go, girl," the red headed guard told her. "Breakfast time. Don't want your omelet getting cold. You're goin' out with the colored girls today, so it's an early start."
"Sir?" asked Rashanta meekly. "I want to talk to the sheriff."
"You do, huh?" said Rusty. "He ain't around here 'til this afternoon. You can see him then. Now move it if you want your ham and eggs."
In the mess hall, Rashanta ate her grits alone. It was the early serving and the room was filled with black female prisoners. Annie, Babs, and Trixie were nowhere to be seen. In fact, there were no white faces anywhere in the room.
After breakfast the guards marched them out to the courtyard where they were manacled and chained together. None spoke. The negro inmates were lead shuffling in their chains to an old stake-bed truck. The guard pushed a wooden set of stairs up to the back of the truck.
"All aboard, ladies" he called cheerfully while the female prisoners climbed up and into the truck, their chains jangling as they dragged across the hollow wooden steps.
With the last inmate on the truck, the guard hefted the stairs onto the back of the truck and closed the tailgate. The truck rolled out the gate onto the road to the dump. Rashanta was tired and sore as well as nervous sitting there on the back of the truck chained to tough looking strangers.
"I sees we gots some fresh meat dis mornin'!" said an older black woman sitting next to Rashanta. "You don't look used to no hard work."
The woman who spoke looked like she'd had rough life. Her hair was short and graying in places. She had a scar on her cheek and was missing several teeth. Rashanta didn't know what to say to her and tried to avoid looking into the other woman's face.
"I's talkin' to you, bitch!" the woman said, irritated.
"I'm sorry," said Rashanta. "This is my first day going out with this group."
"Ain't you da bitch got her ass whupped da other day?" the scarred black woman asked.
"Yes," Rashanta answered.
"I's surprised to see you out here, girl," the older woman went on. "Fine lookin' sista like you, dat sheriff'd have you workin' on yer back fo' him. Guess you too marked up fo' his likin'."
"He wanted me to," the slender negress replied, "but I wouldn't do it."
"Wouldn't do it!" exclaimed the gray haired negress. "Why da fuck not? You like diggin' ditches at the dump better'n gettin' used by dose white men? You a fool, girl. A damn fool. Shit... I'd do it fo' sho' if they wanted me. I'd say, 'Yas, suh! Take all da poontang you want, suh! Jus' get me da fuck off this truck!'"
"Ain't no white man gon' wanna fuck no old scrawny ass nigga like you, Beaulla!" exclaimed the dark black woman sitting on the other side of Rashanta.
"Fuck you, Ernestine!" retorted Beaulla. "You only here 'cause no o' dem wanted to stick they dicks in you. You a nasty ass bitch!"
"So why ain't you on yo' back fo' the sheriff, girl?" asked Ernestine, ignoring Beulla's taunt. "You gotta be ugly like Beaulla fo' him to not ask if'n you want dat 'special treatment', an' you look good 'nuf to me."
"I let them do what I had to let them do," explained Rashanta. "And that was all I was gonna do. I'm not some nigger whore, after all."
"You a dumb fuckin' nigga," said Ernestine. "You think you too good fo' dem? I gots news fo' you: you ain't. Nigga ho' is jus what you is. An' der ain't a bitch on dis truck wouldn't jump at da chance to be nigga fuck meat fo' dem white men. Ain't no shame in goin' along to git along. Beulla's right 'bout one thing: you a damn fool, girl."
At last the truck arrived at the county dump. The truck stopped and the driver came around the back. He opened the tailgate and took the stairs down so the inmates could climb down. He led the chain gang over to a freshly dug area. They picked up the shovels that were stacked up there and made there way down to where they'd left off the day before.
Rashanta looked around and saw the others start digging and lifting the rocky soil into wheel barrows that were sitting next to each prisoner. The sun was just starting to get hot. It was going to be a long day.
* * *
It was late in the afternoon when the truck finally rolled back into the jail courtyard. The exhausted prisoners, chains rattling, climbed down the wooden steps and waited as the deputy removed the manacles from their ankles. Rusty was waiting and came up to Rashanta as she was released from the chains.
"You still want to see the sheriff, girl?" asked the young red haired guard. "He's in his office now."
"Yes, sir," replied the dirty tired negress.
The white man led the negro prisoner back into the jail building and down the corridor to the sheriff's office. Her body ached and her gown was filthy and soaked with sweat. She actually was starting to be concerned that the sheriff would no longer find her suitable in her present condition.
Rashanta had realized even before going out that morning that she couldn't take thirty days of "regular treatment". Her discussion with Beulla and Ernestine had only solidified the notion. The price to be paid for "special treatment" seemed well worth it now, whatever it was. It had be better than digging holes all day and being at the mercy of Annie and Babs at night.
They arrived in the outer office. Bo looked up from his desk.
"Damn! She's a fuckin' mess!" exclaimed the blonde guard. "Better get her naked. And burn that fuckin' rag! I'll tell him you're here."
Bo went and knocked on the sheriff's office door. Rusty turned to Rashanta.
"Get it off, girl," he instructed her. "Jus' put it on the floor by the wastebasket. You can get it on your way out."
The slender black woman pulled the dirty garment over her head and dropped where the young white man indicated.
"Go on in, girl," said the blonde deputy, returning to his desk.
Rashanta entered the inner office and stood in front of the sheriff's desk. He was busy with some paper work and didn't look up right away. The slender negress was very aware of her nakedness. The cool air felt clammy on her sweat covered body. Her nipples had hardened instantly. She knew how she must look. Hair mussed, face streaked with dirt. At last the older white man looked up at her.
"So, I hear you wanted to talk to me," Sheriff Baxter said, leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, a smile on his face. "What can I do for you?"
The black woman had visions of being called to the principle's office in her head. Though that would be nothing like this. Still, she felt like a wayward child.
"I've been thinking about what you were tellin' me about last time," she began. "What do I have to do to get 'special treatment'?"
"Special treatment is only for, er, model prisoners," said the sheriff, still smiling. "Are you a model prisoner? From where I sit, all I see is a uppity nigger. And a ripe dirty one at that."
"I's sorry fo' bein' uppity, suh," Rashanta said, adopting the country dialect she knew he wanted to hear. "I's jus' a dumb nigga an' din't know no better. I knows better now, suh."
Earl sat forward in his chair and his smile faded.
"You talk the talk, girl," he said. "But I ain't convinced. I figured a day or two on the chain gang'd change your tune right quick. But like I say, I ain't convinced."
"Please, suh," she whimpered. "I can't take it out there. I's ready to be a good nigga fo' you, suh. I do like you want. You jus' tell dis nigga what you want an' I does it fo' you."
"Like what?" he asked, the smile returning to his face.
"Want me to suck yo' dick, suh?" asked the negress. "I's real good. You be likin' it, I swears it. You wanna fuck me? I gots a sweet nigga pussy fo' you, boss. You kin use it all you want. You want my black ass? I be takin' yo' dick up my ass if'n you want, suh. Anytime you want it. Please, boss?"
"Bo!" shouted the sheriff. "Get in here!"
The blonde haired deputy appeared at the door.
"Go get this nigger cleaned up, son," Earl instructed him. "Seems she's comin' around. I can't see if'n I still wants her through all the filth. Go get her fixed up."
"Yes, sir, sheriff," said Bo. He took Rashanta's arm. "Let's go get you a bath, girl."
"One more thing, Bo," Earl called as Bo and Rashanta were going through the door. "Get her snatch nice an' bald fo' me. You know I can't abide by a hairy coochie on a nigger. Now get to it."
"Gotcha, sir," Bo responded.
More humiliations, thought Rashanta. She'd started to get used to the cold water hosings she received. But to have her sensitive pussy shaved was going to be something new. More evidence that her body was no longer hers to control.
They walked until they reached the gang shower where Rusty had hosed her down before a trip to court. Unlike before, this time it was full of the black women from the chain gang, washing the filth from the dump off them. A few looked up to see the white deputy accompanying the black prisoner, but none made any move to cover themselves or even stop what they were doing.
"Get yourself cleaned up, girl," Bo told her. "I'll wait here."
Rashanta was relieved to discover the water, while not hot, wasn't ice cold as it had been the other time. She soaped up and rinsed off while Bo's gaze wandered around the room, drinking in the sight of all the naked brown female bodies.
"What's up wit' you, Bo?" called Ernestine. "You want some poontang, baby? Or is you jus' here fo' da show? I got some right here fo' you!"
The older black woman turned away from the young white man and bent over. Spreading her legs she looked back at him and smiled, a gold tooth gleaming.
"Come an' git it, baby!" she called.
"I ain't fuckin' you, you dumb ape!" he answered. "I got some fine poontang comin' along now. I'd have to put a bag over yo' head to fuck you, Ernestine."
"Go git yo' bag, Bo!" she said, still smiling. "Go an' git it. I got yo' poontang right here. You know you want it!"
"C'mon, girl," Bo said to Rashanta, noticing she was finished. "Let's get outta here."
He led her down the corridor to the exam room she was inspected in the day of her arrest. They passed other deputies on the way who took no small amount of pleasure from seeing the naked negress being led through the halls. She felt her face burning as she turned to avoid meeting their eyes.
At last they arrived at their destination, the scene of one of Rashanta's earlier humiliations. The short white man with brown hair was there, still dressed in his white smock. He was standing next the stainless steel examination table.
"Hey, Eddie, got a customer for you," Bo greeted him. "Sheriff wants this nigger's cooch shaved."
"No problemo, Bo," grinned Eddie. "Set yourself up on the table, little lady." He said to Rashanta.
Her face hot with embarrassment, the colored woman got up on the exam table and placed her feet in the stirrups. The older white man applied shaving cream to her pubic region and took a razor to it. The white deputy looked on with rapt attention.
Eddie whistled as he shaved Rashanta bare and then toweled off the remaining foam. He looked her in the eye and grinned as he ran his hand over her smooth mound and slipped a finger down her slit. He looked up at Bo.
"She's wet, Bo," he confided. "Wet fuckin' nigger pussy. Best kind. You got a live one here, son."
Eddie winked at Bo and then turned his attention back to Rashanta. The black woman was mortified and having been aroused by this humiliating procedure.
"All done, cutie pie," he announced. "Naked as the day you was born. Sorry I ain't got no lollipop for a pretty little lady like you."
Bo smiled and shook his head while Eddie chuckled. Rashanta stood up and hung her head with shame. She felt even more naked and exposed than she had before. Her pussy slit was clearly visible now that her pubic hair had been removed. She felt the cool air moving over her freshly shaved skin.
"Ok, girl," said Bo. "We're done here."
"Y'all come back now, hear?" laughed the older white man.
The return walk to the sheriff's office was even more crowded than the one to the exam room. Passing deputies paused on their rounds to admire the black woman's bare pussy. Her escort, pleased by the attention, enjoyed stopping and showing his charge off.
"Damn, Bo!" said one. "That's a fine piece of nigger you got there! Still marked up from the whip, I see." He winked at Rashanta. "I do believe a colored girl looks better with a few stripes on her. Show's she's been reminded of her manners. Nice pussy, too."
Finally they reached the sheriff's office. Rashanta was shamed almost to tears by the way her naked body had been displayed as though she were prime livestock getting shown off. Earl Baxter had returned to his paperwork during the errand to get her pussy shaved and didn't even look up when Bo brought her back in.
"She's all showered and shaved, sheriff," Bo reported. "You need anythin' else?"
"Just park the nigger and scoot, Bo," instructed Earl. "Gotta finish these state forms. I'll holler when I'm ready for you to take 'em."
"Yes, sir," replied the blonde haired deputy who quickly left the room.
Rashanta stood naked and exposed in front of the sheriff's desk for what seemed long while. The older white man was focused on his work the entire time. The slender black woman could feel the coolness of the air conditioning on her shaved sex and felt very vulnerable. At last he pushed the papers aside and looked up at her.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed heartily. "Don't you look a sight better'n before! All clean all over. That's more like it!"
"Er, thank you, suh," stammered Rashanta, not sure of what else to say.
"Now you gettin' it, girl," smiled Earl. "You a pretty nigger an' should 'preciate the attention you gettin'. Plenty o' those girls you was out wit' today would love to be in yo' position here. Pretty nigger like you's jus' a waste out there diggin' at the dump. You belongs where mens like me can 'preciate you. Enjoy your ample charms. Use you the way you was meant to be used."
"What you want dis nigga to be doin' now, suh?" asked Rashanta.
"You gotta convince me you a good nigger now," he stated plainly. "How do I know you ain't jus' playin' at it? Special treatment's a privilege and you gotta earn it. How you gonna do that?"
"I's gon' do like I's tol', suh," the colored woman answered.
"Hmmm," pondered the sheriff. "That might a been good 'nough before, girl. But you got all uppity wit' me. I ain't gotta tell no nigger to do what I want. Niggers oughta know 'nough to do it. Nigger like you's gotta beg for it. So beg, nigger."
Rashanta felt another wave of hot shame wash over her nude body. Giving this man her body wasn't sufficient. He expected her to beg him to use it. Her aching muscles reminded her of the day she'd spent digging in the dirt. She got down on her knees and walked on them around the desk and faced the balding white man.
"I's beggin' you, boss," she began. "I's beggin' you to use dis sorry ass nigga. Please stick yo' dick in my hole, suh. Don't matter none to me which one. I wants it anywheres you puts it. Let dis nigga take yo' dick in her mouth, boss. I suck it good fo' you. I promise you be likin' it. Please honor dis nigga with you white cock to suck on."
"What else you got for me?" asked Earl.
Rashanta swallowed hard.
"You want what's 'tween mah legs, boss?" asked the negress. "Please, suh! Please use mah nigga fuck hole! I need it bad, boss. This nigga needs yo' white dick inside her."
"Let's see it," commanded the sheriff. "Maybe I'll try it. But I gotta see it first. Get on your back an' make me wanna fuck it."
"Yes, suh, boss!" Rashanta said quickly.
The colored woman rolled onto her back there on the floor of the sheriff's office. She spread her legs open as far as she could, holding her thighs just above the knees. Her pussy was splayed wide, her cunt hole and clit clearly visible.
"Use my hole, boss!" she cried. "Use it 'cause I need it bad! I's beggin', boss. Beggin' fo' yo' dick inside me!"
The office door opened up and Bo walked in.
"Sheriff Baxter?" he said to him. "Cal's here for the mail. I gotta get those forms now so's he can take 'em."
"Come here, Bo," Earl invited him. "Take a look at this nigger girl on the floor. Ain't she just like a fuckin' bitch dog in heat?"
The deputy stepped around the sheriff's desk and saw the slender black woman, naked on the floor, legs spread, presenting her sex for them. Rashanta looked up at both white men looking back down at her. She hadn't expected more than the sheriff for an audience, but she realized it didn't matter anymore. She couldn't stand another day like this one had been. She'd rather be a black bitch writhing on the floor for their amusement than breaking her back moving dirt with a shovel.
"Maybe Bo here wants some poontang, nigger," Sheriff Baxter explained. "Why don't you ask him if wants some."
"My coochie needs yo' white cock, sir!" she cried, desperation in her voice. "Stick it in me an' use me! I ain't had no dick fo' so long! I needs to be fucked, boss. Fuck me, boss! Use my nigga hole!"
"Pitiful, ain't she, son," the sheriff said shaking his head. "Them papers are done. Go 'head an take 'em. Close the door after yourself an' see to it I ain't disturbed."
"Ok, sir," said Bo, picking up the forms from the desk.
The blonde haired deputy kept looking back at the naked negro on the floor holding her legs open until he was out of the room. The door closed. Rashanta's arms were getting tired and her groin was completely stretched. She could feel the grit in the carpet working its way into the welts on her back. She tried not to think of the spectacle she was putting on. She'd humbled herself many times in the past, but this was beyond the pale.
"So, you wanna be fucked, do you nigger?" asked Earl, still grinning.
"Yes, suh, boss!" agreed the colored woman. "I's jus' a slutty nigga an' I needs yo' dick, suh!"
"You got any idea what you look like?" the sheriff asked. "Couple days ago you's all uppity and way too fine. Look at you now. Pathetic nigger whore beggin' fo' dick. I'll take pity on your sorry ass. Go lie on that there couch. I ain't gonna fuck you on the floor. Crawl to it, bitch. Like the low down dog you is."
Rashanta rolled over onto her hands and knees and started crawling to the leather couch against the office wall. Suddenly she felt the bottom of Sheriff Baxter's boot flat against her ass as he shoved her down onto the floor. Her firm naked breasts smashed against the floor, her face rubbed in the gritty carpet.
"Crawl on your belly, you fuckin' bitch ho'," he scolded her. "An' do it quick 'less you want my boot up your black ass."
"Yes, suh!" said Rashanta obediently. "I's sorry, suh. I crawl like you want, suh."
The negress crawled as ordered. Her breasts, belly, and thighs scrubbed against the carpet, the grit scratching her tender welted flesh. The sheriff followed behind her as she went. The going was slow even though it was less than ten feet from the desk to the couch. When she got there she looked around him.
"What you waitin' for, nigger?" he said, exasperated. "Get yo' fat black ass up on that there couch and spread them legs out. I wanna see that hole open wide. Now do it!"
"Yes, suh!" she said, climbing up on the couch and laying on her back. "I's doin' it, suh! I's a good nigga an' I does likes I's told."
Sheriff Baxter stood over Rashanta and looked down on her.
"You're nothing but a fuckin' nigger slut, ain't you?" he asked her. "A dirty nigger whore."
"Yes, suh, boss," agreed Rashanta, the shame burning inside her at the words she must speak. "That's what I is. A dirty nigga ho'. A filthy nigga slut who needs yo' white dick, suh."
The sheriff dropped his pants. His erection was standing straight out. His cock bounced and swayed as he climbed between the negress's legs. He stuck the tip right at the entrance to her pussy and worked the head inside. He was quite thick and the black woman could feel herself stretched to accommodate him. Suddenly he just jammed the entire length of his shaft into her vagina.
"Ow!" cried the black woman in pain and surprise.
"Shut up and take it, bitch," growled the sheriff. "You wanted it an' now you got it. Take it all!"
"Yes, suh!" she exclaimed. "I's takin' fo' you, boss. Do me hard! Fuck me! Hurt me! Fuck my coochie. It's yo' pussy, boss. Fuck it hard!"
The white man pounded his dick into the slender negro's cunt.
"Yeah, bitch," he said, the exertion clear in his voice. "You ain't nothin' but a slut whore. Ain't that right?"
"I's a ho', suh," she agreed, trying to get him off. "Jus' a nigga slut whore. Yo' slut ho', boss. Use me hard, suh. Hurt me."
The sheriff slammed his cock deep into his prisoner's pussy.
"Here it comes, nigger!" he shouted and stiffened.
Rashanta's eyes went wide as she felt him ejaculate in her vagina.
"Yeah... Oh, yeah..." he grunted as his sperm shot inside her. "That's what you're for, bitch. Takin' my dick."
"Ohhh!" cried the black woman. "You makin' me cum, boss!"
"The hell I am!" the sheriff objected. "Don't bother to fake that, bitch. I don't give a shit whether some fuckin' nigger slut cums or not."
Rashanta lay still as Earl's dick softened inside her. His eyes locked on hers and she turned her face away.
"Look at me nigger." he commanded her.
The negress looked back up at him and he spat in her face.
"Whore," he said, his voice dripping with disgust.
Sheriff Baxter stood up and pulled up his pants. He stepped close to Rashanta's head. She looked up at him, his saliva on her cheek and nose. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to wipe off his dick. The white man zipped up his pants and went to the office door and opened it. He turned his head back towards the couch.
"Don't you move, nigger," he warned her. "I want the boys to see what you are for themselves."
"Yes, suh," said Rashanta.
The black woman had never felt so used and degraded. Like she was less than human. Less than an animal. Just fuck meat. Nothing more. She felt his semen leaking out of her gaping pussy hole. His spit was dripping off her face.
"Bo!" he called. "You an Rusty come collect this nigger. I'm through with her. You probably oughta go get her cleaned up again. She needs it."
Bo appeared at the door instantly with Rusty close behind him. The two white men walked over to the couch and drank in the sight of Rashanta, used and abused. The two looked at her for a moment and then at each other.
"Damn!" exclaimed Rusty. "I guess she do needs cleanin' up!"
"Let's step it up, boys," Sheriff Baxter prodded them. "I want her out of here now."
"Right, sheriff," said Rusty.
"On your feet girl," Bo ordered.
Rashanta knew she better not move since Earl ordered her not to. She looked over at him and he nodded his approval. She slowly stood up.
"Goddamn, girl!" exclaimed the older white man. "You left a puddle of your mess on my couch! Clean that shit up, now!"
The black woman looked down at the creamy wet spot on the leather couch. Then she looked back at the sheriff, not knowing how to proceed.
"Get down on your fuckin' knees, you stupid bitch!" he said, as if explaining the obvious. "Get your face into it and lick it up!"
Slowly, Rashanta got on her hands and knees. She knew the sheriff and the two deputies were watching her and could feel her face burning. She put her mouth close to the wet spot and licked and slurped the puddle of semen up and gagged it down. Finished with her disgusting task, she stood back up, her head hanging in shame.
"Looks like she's come 'round, too," said the sheriff. "Take her to the 'special' cell block when she's cleaned up. Make sure she gets some supper. None a that macaroni shit, neither."
"You got it, sheriff," Rusty replied.
The two young white men led the slender negro out the sheriff's door and then walked on either side of her as they went through the outer office to the corridor to the cell blocks. The gang shower was empty this time and Rusty stayed and supervised Rashanta washing herself off while Bo went to get her a towel and a clean gown.
Rashanta had just finished rinsing herself off when Bo returned and handed her the towel. She dried herself off under their watchful eyes. She was completely humiliated by the way they looked at her. They both had seen her used thoroughly and she knew they'd never think of her the same way again. Bo gave her the gown and they both watched her put it on.
They went back toward the sheriff's office but then turned towards a block Rashanta hadn't been to before. The cells were empty, but clearly were usually occupied. Finally they arrived at one that didn't look lived in. Rusty opened the door and she went in.
"I'll come get you when it's supper time, girl," said the red headed guard as he slid the barred door closed. "Then you can meet your new neighbors."
Rashanta watched as the two guards walked back down the corridor. She sat on the bunk and reflected on what had happened. She'd wanted "special treatment" and she'd certainly gotten it in spades. She hoped she wasn't in for something even worse than the chain gang. Having to humiliate herself for the sheriff was harder than being used by Annie and Babs. But this time she'd asked for it. The sheriff had insisted on that part.
The black prisoner lay her sore body down and waited for supper time and whatever was to follow.
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