Hard Time for Rashanta
by Neal


Chapter 5 - Sentencing Hearing


When the young red haired guard arrived and opened the cell door
Rashanta thought she was to be escorted to lunch since it was after
the noon hour.

"Wallace," he called as he slid the barred door open.  "Let's go."

Rashanta climbed down from her bunk and stepped into the corridor.
The guard gave her the once over and frowned.

"Damn!" he exclaimed.  "You're a mess.  Shit.  I'll have to get you
cleaned up 'cause you're going to court for sentencing and the judge
don't like niggers showing up looking like used whores.  Follow me."

The negro woman blushed with shame at having her condition brought to
her attention by this freckle faced guard who may have been nineteen.
She followed him with her head bowed.  She could see the crusty stains
on her prison gown and could imagine how she must appear.  He pushed a
door open revealing a tiled room with evenly spaced shower heads.  Two
scruffy looking twenty something white men in orange prison coveralls
were mopping the floor.  They both looked when the guard and his
charge entered.

"They're cleanin' the shower room now," he said.  "Don't pay them no
mind.  Strip."

"Don't I get some privacy?" Rashanta protested.

"Fuck," sighed the guard.  "Are you gonna give me a hard time?  We's
already behind schedule.  Take that nasty rag off.  Time's a wastin'."

The two prisoners chuckled as they looked on, their mopping chores on
hold for the moment.  Both leered at the slender black woman.  She
stood there without moving.

"What are you?  Stupid?" he asked.  "Get it off before I rip it off."

Rashanta sighed and slowly started pulling the soiled gown off, much
to the delight of the two white inmates.  The deputy looked on
impatiently, though the sight of the shapely black woman wasn't lost
on him.  She lifted it over her head, revealing her firm breasts and
flat belly.  She clutched the garment close to her body.

"Give me that, you dumb nigger," the guard said, irritated.

"Better do like he says, bitch," chuckled one of the inmates.
"Rusty'll do it for sure.  He's a mean motherfucker."

The guard snatched the gown from the black woman's grasp and threw it
towards the two prisoners.  It landed in a mop bucket.

"Showers are turned off, Rusty," added the other inmate.  "Hose still
works, but it's cold."

"Works for me," the guard replied, accepting the hose from the inmate.

Rusty squeezed the handle and began hosing Rashanta's nude body down
with the strong spray of the cold water.  She winced at the high
pressure and chill of the hose water.

"Owww!" she cried.  "That hurts!"

"Shut up and quit your cryin', bitch," said Rusty, exasperated.  "You
think I'm enjoyin' this?"

Rashanta could see the erection in the guards pants, so she knew that
he was indeed enjoying it.  Suddenly the water stopped.  She looked
over at the young deputy.

"There's some soap over there," he pointed out.  "If'n you ever heard
of that, nigger.  Get sudsed up and I'll rinse you off.  Put a move
on.  We're late."

The negress saw the brown bar in a soap dish attached to the tiled
wall.  Harsh soap like her grandma used to buy.  She picked it up and
soaped up under the steady gaze of the red haired guard and the two
white male prisoners.  She was thoroughly humiliated having to put on
a show for them this way.  The black woman was just putting the soap
back in the dish when the spray resumed, startling her and causing her
to yelp.

"All right, bend over now," ordered Rusty.  "Let's wash that nasty
black ass off before we go."

Rashanta bent over and presented her ass to the water jet. She jumped
as it hit her tender flesh, eliciting laughter from the inmates as
they looked on.  It was so hard she could feel it going into her
already sore anus.  It still burned from the abuse she'd received from
her lawyer's dick earlier.  She felt like livestock.  Like an animal
getting hosed down.

"That's enough, girl," said Rusty, with satisfaction.  "I think you
startin' to like it too much!  We ain't got time for you to get your
jollies off it.  Let's go.  Ain't got no towels.  You can dry off when
we get your prom dress."

The white male prisoners laughed again at the guard's words while he
himself smirked.  The colored woman felt hot with shame in spite of
the goose flesh she had from the cold water she'd been hosed down
with.

Rusty led the shivering Rashanta naked out into the main corridor.
Unlike the night of her arrest, the corridor was busy with guards and
inmates.  All enjoyed the sight of the nude black woman walking behind
the young deputy.

"Hey, Rusty!" called one of his fellow guards.  "That your date for
tonight?"

The others with him guffawed at the joke.

"Maybe later," replied Rusty.  "Judge White gets first crack at her."

"Oh, yeah!" responded his friend.  "Hard on Harry'll do her crack
alright!"

Rashanta blushed at the renewed laughter the other guard's comment
provoked.  It humiliated her to not only be naked and exposed to these
white men, but to have them all know how she'd been taken and used by
the judge made it even worse.  She tried to ignore them, but her face
was hot with shame.

The guard and his charge continued to the place where Rashanta had
received her gown and bedding on the night of her arrest.  Annie, the
tough looking white woman, looked up from where she sat behind the
counter.  She stood and straightened the orange prison gown she wore,
smiling menacingly at the slender black woman.

"Well, look who's back!" she grinned.  "The purty colored girlie.
Don't you look all hot to trot all in your birthday suit!  And
drippin' all over the floor.  Don't tell me you got a work out
already!"

"Enough chit chat, Annie," said Rusty.  "Give the nigger a gown so's I
can run her on over to the courthouse.  She got a hot date with Judge
White an' we already late."

"Alright, Rusty," said Annie.  "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

The broad shouldered white woman got an orange prison gown down off
the shelf.  She put it on the counter in front of the slender negress
and eyed her naked body.

"Here you go, meat," Annie told her, leaning forward across the
counter.  "I'll see you later, girlie," she added quietly, so that
only Rashanta could hear.

Rashanta looked at her and Annie winked back and licked her lips.  A
chill ran through the negro's body as she reached for the gown.
Something about the look in female inmate's eyes disturbed her.  It
was as if the older white woman was actually sizing up a piece of
meat.

"I need a towel," said Rashanta.

"Jesus, girl!" cried Rusty.  "This ain't the Ritz!  You're lucky I
don't just haul your bare ass outta here like you is!  Put that
fuckin' thing on now or that's jus' what'll happen!"

The black woman pulled the clean gown over herself.  Unlike the
previous one, this one was tight on her.  Her skin was still wet from
the hose rinsing she'd been subjected to and the garment clung to her
body.  Her hard nipples were clearly visible.  She felt almost as
exposed as if she were naked.

"Fashion show's over, Wallace," announced the guard.  "If'n we any
later, the judge'll tear you a new one."  He smiled.  "Hell, he'll
prob'ly do that anyhow!"

Rashanta followed as Rusty buzzed them through the door to the exam
room.  The red haired guard opened a locker and pulled out a set of
manacles and chains.  He quickly had the cuffs on her wrists and
ankles.  The chain connecting the wrist cuffs to the ankle chain
wasn't long enough to allow her to stand completely upright..

The deputy led his stooped prisoner shuffling through the next door
and finally outside into the bright sunlight.  Instead of the van, a
prowl car was waiting.  Rusty put the chained colored woman in the
back seat and got behind the wheel.  Rashanta stared into the seat
back and didn't look out the windows.

In a few minutes they arrived at the courthouse where the white man
grabbed the hapless black female from the back seat and led her
towards the building.  Rashanta could feel the eyes of onlookers on
her, examining her barely concealed form, especially her hard nipples
and firm breasts that jiggled as she shuffled along.  The chain
between her ankles clanked on the pavement with each step.

They entered the waiting room, but this time after her restraints were
removed she was led straight into the courtroom.  She was left at the
defendant's table standing next to Sam.  Jack was at the prosecutor's
table and Judge White sat scowling behind the bench.

"This hearing was set for one o'clock," he announced.  "You're late.
Let's get started.  I understand that plea bargain agreement has been
reached."

"Yes, your honor," said Jack.  "The people have offered to reduce the
charges to unauthorized use of a motor vehicle in exchange for a
guilty plea."

"Is this true?" the judge asked Sam.

"Ms. Wallace has agreed to plead guilty to this charge," Sam
responded.  "All that remains is the sentence."

"The people are asking for a sentence of six months with all but
thirty days suspended," Jack informed the court.

"Thirty days?" queried Judge White.  "This court takes a dim view of
this defendant's actions.  I'd like to hear from the defendant
herself."

Sam nudged Rashanta.

"Make it good, girl," he told her.

Rashanta swallowed and looked around.  All eyes were on her.  The
judge, the district attorney, the public defender, the bailiff, the
court recorder, and the gallery, which was full of white faces.  She
felt nauseous at the thought of what she must say.

"Well?" prodded the judge.

"I's sorry, yo' honor," she started.  "I's sorry fo' what I done.  I
gots all confused wit' all the papers.  I's jus' a dumb nigga an'
din't know no better.  I swears I ain't never gon' do nothin' like
that again."

The black woman hadn't felt as shamed during her entire ordeal as she
did right that moment.  Standing there, her body clearly visible
beneath the flimsy gown, she had to speak like an uneducated ignorant
country girl, the exact image she abhorred.  Her humiliation smoldered
inside her.

"You have to understand that under normal circumstances I can't allow
you to only serve thirty days," said Judge White.  "Ninety days is
more appropriate in this case.  This court won't coddle criminals and
ignorance of the law is no excuse."

Rashanta felt a lump in her throat.  She hated the thought of even
going back to the jail for ninety minutes let alone ninety days.

"However, I like to think we're progressive enough here to use
creative sentencing where the case merits it," the judge spoke to the
court.  "I'll see the attorneys and the defendant in my chambers to
discuss this.  This court is in recess."

Judge White stood and stepped down from the bench and entered his
chambers though the door in the wall behind where he sat.  Jack
gathered the papers up from the table in front of him and headed in
the direction of the door.  Sam and Rashanta followed.

The judge was seated at his desk, the district attorney in the far
chair on the other side.  One chair remained and the public defender
sat down.  The black woman was left standing in her wet clinging
prison gown.

"Ordinarily, defendants aren't present for these discussions," said
Judge White, "so all you have to do is look pretty, girl.  And I think
you'd look prettier without the gown.  Remove it."

Rashanta was shocked at this blatantly inappropriate request in spite
of everything that had happened before.  Her rape had taken place with
just the judge and his bailiff present.  He didn't seem to care about
even the appearance of propriety now.  He watched along with the two
attorneys as the negro slowly lifted her gown over her head and then
stood naked in front of them, her head bowed.

The slender black woman did catch a glimpse of their faces, staring at
her like she was the cover of a porn magazine as she stripped off her
only garment.  The air felt cool on her dark skin, which was warm with
the shame of exposing herself this way.  She felt very vulnerable in
this situation.  She was completely naked in the presence of three
fully dressed white men, two in suits and one in judicial robes.

"My, you are a fine looking negress," said Judge White approvingly.
"I didn't get such a good look at you from the front the other day.
Put your hands behind your head so I can see your body properly
displayed."

Rashanta looked up and at the faces of the white men seated in the
room.  All eyes were naturally upon her.  She remembered how she'd
stripped in the company vice president's office when she wanted her
own private office.  He'd had the same glassy eyed look as these men
did.

But that time she'd been the one in control.  She'd decided to use her
body to achieve the ends she'd desired.  This time she'd been
*ordered* out of what little clothing she had on.  She had to comply
or face spending the next six months behind bars.  That was no choice
at all.

The colored woman cast her eyes down and lifted her arms from her
sides.  She clasped her hands behind her head.  She could feel her
breasts pushing out towards the white men who were enjoying the view.
She felt like she was nothing more than a pair of tits to them.  The
thought that they didn't even see her as a person, but just a thing,
shamed her.  This was far worse than anything she'd experienced
climbing and sleeping her way up the corporate ladder.

"Very nice!" said the judge, pleased.  "Very nice indeed.  You needn't
feel bad about just being a dumb nigger.  Dumb niggers have their
place in the grand scheme of things, after all.  Now, come over here
close to me, girl.  Don't be shy."

Rashanta swallowed hard and began stepping around the judge's desk and
stood to one side of where he sat.  Jack and Sam's eyes followed her
movements in unison.  The black woman fought hard to keep a brave face
on in spite of the humiliation she felt at being an object of
titillation for these middle aged white men.  Men who she wouldn't
have given a second glance to had she seen them back in her world.
But here in this world, they were in charge.  And they had her totally
under their control.

Judge White reached up and squeezed Rashanta's left breast.  He moved
his hand over to the right one and squeezed it, too.  The black woman
trembled as his hand went across her belly to her crotch.  He brushed
the backs of his fingers over her nappy black pubic hair.  She felt
his hand going between her legs.  The negro knew what the white man
wanted so she parted her thighs to give him access to her pussy.  She
couldn't bear the idea of being ordered to do so.  She closed her eyes
so she wouldn't be able to see the two attorneys watching the show.

"Don't let her protests fool you, boys," said the judge shaking his
head while he stroked the black woman's sex.  "This bitch is soaking.
She loves it.  Niggers love this kind of attention.  It's their
nature.  They can't help it.  Like animals that are always in heat."

Rashanta was mortified.  She knew it was true.  She could smell her
scent rising up from between her legs.  She could feel her pussy
lubricating in spite of herself.  Her humiliation reached a new level
as she realized she was getting aroused by the touch of the man who
had brutally raped her in this very room the day before.

"You're no uppity nigger, are you, girl?" asked Judge White as if
talking to a child.  "You know your place, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Rashanta answered in a little girl voice.

"Excellent!" he said, grandly.  "Now get on your knees and show us.
Show us you know what you are and where you belong."

As if in a trance, Rashanta slowly got to her knees.  She looked up at
the judge from the plushly carpeted floor.  He pushed his chair back
from the desk, never taking his eyes off hers.

"Under the desk, girl," instructed the older white man.  "That's where
I want you."

The colored woman didn't even stop to think about it, she simply
crawled under the desk.  She looked back up at where the judge sat in
his high backed desk chair.  He lifted the black robe of his judicial
office revealing that he wasn't wearing anything under it.  His white
cock was at attention.

"Suck it, nigger," he commanded evenly.  "Suck my dick while we decide
what's to be done with you.  I know you'll do a good job."

This was the most humiliating thing Rashanta could remember having to
do.  To suck this white man's cock.  The man who held her fate in his
hands.  The man who'd sodomized her on top of this desk that she now
kneeled beneath, ready to service him.  And somehow she'd been aroused
and they all knew it.  A tear of shame rolled down her cheek as she
took his dick into her mouth and began softly slurping on it.

"That's a good girl," the judge praised her.

Judge White shifted in his chair and smiled at the two attorneys
sitting across the desk from him.

"Alright, let's get down to business here," he said.  "I'm not about
to just let this nigger walk after thirty days.  Should be ninety.
Sixty, at least.  You know my position on this, Jack."

Rashanta continued sucking the judge's dick as she listened to the
proceedings.  The sounds of wet sucking noises were clearly audible.

"Well, your honor," began the prosecutor, "I figured as much, but I
was thinking that in combination with a little creativity, it could be
made to be acceptable to you."

"Hmmm...," the judge pondered as the negro continued to service him.
"What did you have in mind?"

"A whipping at the jail," answered Jack.  "Ten lashes.  Maybe twenty."

Rashanta stopped her ministrations at hearing this.  She was to be
whipped?  She felt a knot in the pit of her stomach.

"That's entirely different," agreed Judge White.

He frowned and looked down at the black woman whose head was in his
lap, his dick in her mouth.

"Get back to business, girl," he ordered her.  "Don't stop until
you're finished."

"Dumb nigger," he muttered as Rashanta resumed bobbing her head on his
cock.

He returned his attention to the district attorney.  "Yes, I think
justice would be served that way.  Twenty lashes and thirty days
sounds acceptable to me.  Sam?"

"I agree," said the public defender.  "Naturally, I will be in
attendance when the sentence is carried out to, er, look after my
client's interests."

Rashanta heard the white men chuckle at Sam's statement.  Her jaw was
beginning to ache, but she kept slurping and bobbing.  She could taste
the judge's pre-cum.

"Then it's settled," said Judge White.  "So, Jack, interested in a
chance to win your money back this weekend at Hickory Hills?  I've got
a new driver I want to try out."

"I don't know how you do it, Harry," said the prosecutor.  "I have yet
to beat you on the golf course."

The negress continued to suck the judge's dick as the white men made
plans for the weekend.  She felt completely used and degraded.  She
was nothing more than a cocksucking thing to them.  She'd pleasured
him while he chatted about sentencing her to be whipped in the same
manner he discussed his golf game.

Suddenly Rashanta felt a hot jet of semen in the back of her throat as
the silver haired man ejaculated in her mouth.  She was startled and
began to choke.

"Ahhh, yes...," sighed Judge White.  "Better not spill any, nigger."

Rashanta gagged quietly as she swallowed his seed, tears streaming
down her face.  She let his dick slip out of her mouth and worked her
jaw to ease the ache.

"All done, girl?" the judge asked pleasantly.

"Yes, sir," the black woman answered, her face burning with shame.

"Good job," he praised her patronizingly.  "Get up on your hind legs
now.  That's a good girl."

Rashanta crawled out from under the desk and stood.  Her naked brown
body was stiff from being in the cramped position under Judge White's
desk.  Once again, all eyes were on her nude form.

"Let's get this wrapped up," said the judge.  "Get back to your
places.  I'll be out in a few minutes.  Take the nigger with you, I'm
through with her for now."

Sam stood and handed Rashanta her prison gown.  Jack opened the door
and left the room.  The colored woman could see that part of the
gallery could see her standing there naked in the judge's chambers.
She quickly put the garment on and followed Sam back to the
defendant's table.

Rashanta could hear whispering and chuckling behind her.  She was
thoroughly humiliated at her exposure to this assembled rabble.  A few
minutes later, Judge White emerged from his chambers and took his
place behind the bench.  He gavelled the court to order and the
whispers quickly died down.

"Alright, alright, let's have some order here," Judge White addressed
the court.  "Having plead guilty to the charge of unauthorized use of
a motor vehicle, this court sentences the defendant, Rashanta Wallace,
to six months in the county correctional facility with all but the
first thirty days suspended.  Said defendant will also be subject to
corporal punishment in the form of twenty lashes to be administered at
the onset of the sentence.  Bailiff, call the next case."

The judge gavelled the case closed and Rusty the deputy took Rashanta
back to the waiting room where he reattached her wrist and ankle
cuffs.

"Looks like you'll be staying with us for awhile, girl," he said,
grinning broadly.  "I'm looking forward to it."

Rashanta bravely held back the tears and stood as straight as her
chains allowed her.  She shuffled along after the young white deputy
out to the prowl car.  Her head throbbed, her jaw ached, and she felt
a tightness in her chest.

It still seemed unreal.  What had started off as a simple business
trip intended to get her closer to her vacation spot had turned into a
total nightmare.  A misunderstanding had blown up into a jail
sentence.  Where once she'd used her considerable charms and talents
to get luxuries and perquisites from the powerful white men who
employed her, she now used them to minimize the loss of her freedom.
And in too many cases, she'd just been used in exchange for nothing at
all.

The slender black woman thought of the month ahead.  Thirty days in
this hell hole.  Not to mention the twenty lashes of the whip.  The
tears started to flow at last.



  
Rashanta-05