Men
Are Just Testicles In Prison
by Sterling
Chapter 6 of 10
Bill
was pounding away in Alison on his cot by candlelight. They knew each
other well by now, and he knew she would be orgasming soon. He gave his
lusty grin before closing his eyes and fucking into his mate even more
insistently. A noise close by made him freeze, and then a figure was
outside his cell, flashlight beam playing over him and Alison.
"What
the hell?" asked Amy. "How did you get her in there with you? Who is
it? Oh, Alison. Are you OK? You'll let her go, right Bill?"
The two lovers sat on the cot, sharing the blanket for modesty.
"You won't tell, right?" said Alison. "I swear this was all my idea."
"That's
a really stupid thing to do. He could just walk out of here! And maybe
slit your throat and dump you in the woods. And just to get fucked?"
"It's not like that!" said Alison hotly, getting up and turning away
from Amy as she dressed quickly. Bill dressed too.
"Um, I know fucking when I see it."
"I
mean it's more than that." Alison threw her arms around Bill and they
shared a fierce hug. Bill hoped it wouldn't be the last hug of his life.
Amy said, "I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you'd come out of there."
She didn't need to add that she would lock Bill in.
"I don't see why we can't talk this way," said Alison.
"It's OK," Bill said to her. "One step at a time."
When the two women were in the hallway and Bill locked inside, Amy
relaxed visibly.
"Barbara
said that one night with her insomnia she saw someone coming out of the
police station around 4am. So I figured I ought to investigate. I
waited upstairs last night."
"So, you're not going to tell, are you?" asked Alison.
"I should. If I don't, I'll be failing in my duty to the community."
Bill
cleared his throat. "I imagine they'd want to know everything that's
been going on," he said, slightly emphasizing the 'everything'.
Amy saw his point immediately and sighed. "OK, so maybe I don't have to
report you. But first of all, the key."
"What key?" asked Alison.
Amy pointed to the locked door. "Or are you a master lock-picker?"
Alison hesitated a moment, then produced the key from her pants pocket
and handed it over.
"Where did you get it?"
"From the drawer upstairs."
"That drawer is always locked."
"Apparently not always," Alison said.
Amy sighed. "OK, so this is over. No more visits."
"No!" said Alison.
"No more visits from anyone?" asked Bill.
Amy looked at Alison and then back at Bill.
"She knows," said Bill.
"Right, not from anyone."
"That's not fair," said Alison. "I love him!"
Amy
switched to fully official mode. "Communicating with men beyond the
minimum necessary is forbidden. Fraternizing is forbidden. Sexual
activity is forbidden." She frowned at that point, realizing she was
guilty -- very guilty. "Playing cards is forbidden. Breaching security
is forbidden. And falling in love is most definitely forbidden. It is
an insult to the very heart of Dworkinism, a re-emergence of one of the
most corrupting institutions of the patriarchy."
"Dworkinism is full of shit," said Alison hotly.
"I
think that's an opinion you'd better keep to yourself," answered Amy,
the threat in her tone unmistakable. "From now on we all play by the
rules."
Alison
volunteered to fetch Bill's dinner bowl after he was done eating, and
the kitchen woman assigned that task was delighted to be free of the
job. Amy would probably not have allowed it if she had known, but it
wasn't against any policies.
"I miss you so much!" whispered Alison.
"Me too!"
The two lovers kissed, and hands passed through the bars in both
directions to fondle and caress.
"If only we could..." lamented Alison, wiggling her hips.
"Well, there is that old method."
"I'd like that so much!" said Alison. "But when?"
"I've got to give a sample tomorrow, and Amy is looking at it very
carefully now. But some day when I don't have to..."
"We could just do it really quick? No one comes down here after supper
-- or hardly ever, right?"
Bill nodded eagerly. "It's a risk, but..." The hunger in his eyes said
everything.
Several
days later, Alison stopped in front of Bill's cell, right hand down the
front of her pants, wiggling. She glanced at the bulge in his pants,
and raised her eyebrows. Bill nodded.
Alison quickly dropped her
pants and panties to mid-thigh and got on hands and knees, pressing
back against the bars. Bill pulled down his sweats to mid-thigh,
maneuvered behind her and pushed. He glided in smoothly, and after ten
quick strokes he came, pulsing seed into his forbidden love. Both were
completely silent. As his penis slid out he pulled his pants up. Alison
rose and similarly put herself together. They both listened again but
heard no sign of an impending interruption.
Bill motioned her to
stand right by the bars and worked his hand down the front of her
panties. The wetness from their coupling was apparent around her
opening, but he focused on her clitoris and stroked, gentle but strong.
They
kissed while he stroked, but then she pulled her face away, held the
bars, and shut her eyes. Seconds later her face contorted and she
shuddered, still soundless. When she had her balance back, she kissed
him briefly and started up the stairs.
Bill hastily picked up his dinner bowl and tapped on it.
Alison heard, returned, and with a grin and a slap to her forehead took
it and disappeared.
Bill's
life returned to its former routine. His utterly miserable former
routine, he realized. No women visited him in the evening. There were
no real hugs, no card games, and no lounging on his cot with Alison.
Their exciting and dangerous brief couplings were the highlight of his
life, but the frustration was almost as intense as the joy. He missed
so much just hearing her talk in leisurely fashion about everything
going on in her life -- with her housemates, the furniture shop, or the
vegetables. She did sneak him a treat from time to time -- a cucumber,
a few grapes, a piece of chocolate.
One evening he heard the
door upstairs open. No one came in the evenings any more. The woman who
appeared was no one he'd seen before, nondescript and unsmiling.
"I'm here to get pregnant," she said simply. She had brought her own
cushion and put it on the floor.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," said Bill. "I am only permitted to give semen
samples to Amy."
"I
know the rules, and I also know they are broken. I've been trying to
have a baby now for two years. I know two women who got pregnant doing
it this way, and I want you to rape me. I don't care how much it hurts."
"I'm sorry, ma'am," said Bill once again, eyes down.
"I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," she said. "If the rules were
broken for the others, they can be broken for me."
"Ummm, I tell you what. I promise if you come back tomorrow I'll do it
to you then." He could tell Amy and let her deal with it.
"I may not be fertile tomorrow. I either get it now or I tell everyone."
From
the looks of this woman, she would follow through on her threat. "Very
well, ma'am, but please remember that you ordered me to do this."
"So I did," she said. "And you obeyed me." With that, she gave him a
smirk and presented her rear end for the taking.
Bill
was angry, but he was also aware of a pussy right in front of him.
Fucking could be an angry thing. He spread her lips wider than usual,
placed his cock, and gave a mighty shove.
"Ouch!" cried the woman.
Bill
paid no heed, grabbing the woman's hips and puncturing her body
mercilessly, over and over. She wasn't even fully lubricated, but he
didn't care. She expected him to hurt her, and he would oblige.
He
heard the door open upstairs just as his second spurt was rocketing
into the woman's vagina. There were quick, heavy steps on the stairs.
He let go and let the frantic woman pull away. His last bit of semen
dribbled out as he hastily pulled his pants up.
But
the women had seen. They were security. Rumors of women getting fucked
by Bill in person had made it to the authorities through a channel
independent of Amy, and they had staked out the place.
Emily and Amy sat across from each other at Emily's kitchen table.
Emily glared at her daughter, and Amy couldn't meet her gaze.
"Tell me everything. Absolutely everything, you understand?"
Her
mother wasn't as upset as she expected when she admitted to looking
through the forbidden books in the attic. But it was very difficult for
her to describe how she had convinced Bill to have sexual intercourse
with her. She hastened to add that it was through the bars, so security
was not an issue. As she described the mechanics of it, her mother's
face reminded her that she had been accepting the classic sex position
men used to degrade women.
Emily interrupted with occasional
groans and sharp cries of, "Amy, how could you!" But she let the story
unfold. Amy considered leaving out the part with Alison in the room
with Bill, where he could have escaped at any time, but she didn't dare
hold anything back from her mother that might come out later.
"Oh, Amy..." said Emily at last, holding her head in her hands. She
then sat back in her chair.
"You realize you fell right into the patterns of the patriarchy,
letting your biology get the better of you."
"What do you mean 'biology'?"
Emily
sighed. "When we were setting up the Dworkinian society, there was a
great debate. One view was that the men must be completely dehumanized
and seen by as few women as possible. Contact would be minimal; they
would donate their sperm and nothing else. And that's the view that
prevailed. Well, almost. It was agreed that girls and women should see
men in a degraded state occasionally. But the other view..." Emily
paused.
Amy looked at her expectantly.
"The other view
held that most women are born naturally attracted to men, and we should
accept that fact and not be ashamed of it. We would remind girls how
that had led to the horrors of the patriarchy, and emphasize how we can
be attracted to women too. We had this biological urge, but needed to
resist it. Maybe that wouldn't have worked either, but at least you and
Alison wouldn't have been blindsided by your attraction to him. But
there was one decisive factor." She paused and looked into Amy's eyes.
"We have to abort almost all our boy babies, right?"
"Right."
"If
you know the thing growing inside isn't really a human being, it's OK.
But if you feel any emotional pull to men, it's much harder to agree to
do that. Probably the first position in its pure form would have been
best. Leave men hidden, to be glimpsed by only a very few women -- the
most dedicated and hard-core Dworkinians."
"Mom, do you think men are inhuman monsters or not?"
"You
obviously don't think so. You've seen their charm. They've always been
tricky that way. We women feel that attraction, and our judgment goes
out the window. But give them time, they'll show their true stripes.
The evil will come out. It's lurking in every last one of them, Amy."
"But all the raping they did in the holocaust, it was just the bug,
right? It wasn't the men themselves!"
"We
took that into account, I assure you. The bug wouldn't have had that
effect on the men if their underlying predisposition for rape wasn't
there, just waiting to be triggered."
Amy felt confused. "At least I never unlocked his door."
Emily found Amy the next afternoon. "Tomorrow Rachel will resume her
duties as handler."
"Rachel! She killed Carl!"
"Carl
killed himself. A weakling. It is decided. No one will be alone with
Bill again except Rachel, and only a few women will ever see him. You
will never see him again."
"Mother!"
"You don't seem to
understand. I had to work to keep you out of prison. The alternative
was to turn you two over to the regional authorities on criminal
charges. That gullible, trusting Alison would be facing five years,
minimum. You would be looking at two."