Hard Time for Rashanta
by Neal


Chapter 3 - In Chambers


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.



  
Rashanta-03