Hard Time for Rashanta
by Neal


Chapter 7 - Twenty Lashes


Rashanta hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep on the floor following
the assault perpetrated upon her by Annie, Babs, and Trixie.  The
lights suddenly coming on startled her awake.  She was sore from the
rough treatment she'd received at the hands of the brutal lesbians.
Her breasts ached, her pussy burned, and her face was bruised.  The
scent of the woman who'd used her face to masturbate on was still
heavy upon her as was the stench of the bull dyke's urine from having
relieved herself on the hapless negro.

The black woman was also quite stiff from having spent the night naked
on the cold cement floor of her jail cell.  She got up and started
stretching just as Rusty appeared on his morning rounds.

"Jesus fucking christ!" exclaimed the young red headed guard as he
took in the scene of the disheveled negress.  "Must a been some party
here last night!"  He wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him.  "Dayum!
What a stink!  I ain't takin' you nowhere smellin' like that!  Not
even to go get yer whuppin'!  I'll have to hose you down first.  What
is it with you, anyways?  You just a nasty nigger, ain't you?"

Rashanta hung her head in shame at the young guards rebuke and
revulsion.  She knew how she must look and was keenly aware of how she
smelled.  Rusty disappeared out of her view for a few minutes and then
returned with a hose.  He attached it to a spigot mounted on the wall
near the floor and turned on the valve.  Water spurted out of the hose
nozzle.

"Seems I'm always hosin' you down, girl," the young guard said to her
as he pointed the hose into the cell.  "Good thing there's a drain in
there so I can just do it right here.  Kinda like the cages at the dog
pound."

The water was ice cold and at high pressure.  It almost knocked the
colored woman off her feet when it hit her.  She felt like a dog at
the pound right now.  Hosed down like an animal in her cage.  In spite
of the pain and humiliation, she actually welcomed having the filth
from the previous night rinsed off her.

"Alright, that'll do," said Rusty.

He turned the water off and unlocked the cell door.  Rashanta reached
for the gown that was laying on her bunk.

"You won't be needin' that, girl," the guard told her.  "Whip'd jus'
tear it up anyhow.  Let's go.  It's time."

Rashanta fought back the tears as she thought of what awaited her.
Twenty lashes of the whip on her naked body.  Most of the painful
things she'd experienced here had happened suddenly.  But the
whipping...  That had been hanging over her for what seemed like an
eternity.  And now it was about to happen.

Together they walked down the corridor.  The uniformed white guard in
khaki slacks and shirt.  The naked black inmate with glistening dark
brown skin, jiggling titties, and undulating ass.

Rusty buzzed them through a steel barred door that opened onto a dusty
outside courtyard.  The morning air was chilly and Rashanta's nipples
hardened as she began to shiver.  The courtyard was surrounded by the
jail building on three sides and a chain link fence with barbed wire
on top on the fourth.  There was a raised wooden platform next to the
fence.  A heavy wooden beam with a thick metal hook was mounted on
tall posts such that it was about six or seven feet over the platform.

"That's where you're gonna get your whuppin, girl," said Rusty
cheerfully, when he noticed his prisoner was checking out the
platform.  "They'll cuff your wrists together and hang the chain right
on that hook.  Then they'll whup your ass but good!  It'll be quite a
sight, believe you me!  We'll have the prisoners down here to watch
and folks always come up to watch from the other side of the fence."

Rashanta hadn't realized that her punishment was to be a spectacle for
all to see.  To be whipped publicly, naked, was far more humiliating
than anything she'd experienced so far, and she'd experienced alot.
She felt a lump in her throat and a knot in the pit of her stomach.
She tried not to look at the place of her future torment but couldn't
tear her eyes away.

"Hey, Rusty," came a male voice from behind them.  "Showin' our guest
the facilities?"

Rusty and Rashanta both turned to see Judge White standing there with
his hands in his pockets and a big smile on his face.

"Judge!" exclaimed the guard.  "You're early!"

"I'm always early when a nigger gal's gonna get whipped!" he responded
jovially.  "Say, son, is there a room 'round here where I can have
some privacy with the nigger?"

"Yes, sir," answered Rusty.  "There's a interview room right next to
the platform."

"That'll do nicely," said the judge.  "I see the door.  I'll take her
there myself."

Dismissed, Rusty went back into the jail building leaving Rashanta
alone with Judge White..

"Let's go, girl," ordered the judge.

The silver haired man walked with the naked colored woman across the
courtyard to an unmarked wooden door.  He opened it and they both
entered a small room with a dirty window looking out onto the
platform.  A couple of wooden chairs were on either side of a rickety
looking table.

"I like to get a blow job from the niggers I sentence right before
they get whipped," Judge White said conversationally as he closed the
door.  "The fear of impendin' pain makes 'em do a better job of it.
Least ways, that's how it seems to me."

The judge sat in one of the chairs and patted his thigh while smiling
up at the naked black female prisoner.

"Please, your honor," the colored woman pleaded, "have mercy on me.  I
am so sorry for what I did.  I didn't mean anything by it at all.  It
was a mistake, that's all.  I'm begging you to reconsider my
punishment.  I'd do anything if you'd call it off and get me out of
here.  Anything at all.  I'd be your total slave for the thirty days
instead."

"Wouldn't you rather have me as your sex slave than locked up here in
this place?  Wouldn't you rather enjoy my body instead of having me
whipped?  You could use me any way you wanted any time you wanted as
many times as you wanted.  It wouldn't be like you were forcing me,
either.  I'd devote myself to your pleasure, sir.  And I know what men
like.  I can give you much pleasure.  I can squeeze your cock with my
pussy and massage it.  I do exercises.  You want to try it out now,
sir?  You want to use my pussy?  I promise you'll like it."

"Please just call off the whipping," she begged.  "And please take me
out of this jail.  I don't think I can stand it.  And I'd make sure
you were always well satisfied.  I swear it."

"Get down on your knees, girl," the white man instructed.

Rashanta quickly got to her knees and looked at Judge White with a
questioning look.  A mixture of expectation and a small amount of
relief.  She tried to read him.  She knew she could deliver on her
promises as her employer could attest.  She'd used her skills many
times as she advanced her career and gathered perks.  Begging this way
was humiliating, but the idea of being taken naked and publicly
whipped was more than she could bear.  Throwing herself on the mercy
of the judge was her last hope to get herself out of this situation.

"I'll suck you good, sir," continued the black inmate, "you'll see.
I'm a good cocksucker.  I can deep throat.  I know how to make you
feel really good.  Is that what you want, sir?  You want me to suck
your cock?  I'd love to do it for you."

The judge smiled broadly and patted his thigh again.

"Come here," he said.  "Come here and suck my dick, nigger."

"Yes, suh, boss!" agreed the slender colored woman, suddenly
remembering the mode of speech he liked.  "I's sorry if'n I was a
uppity a nigga jus' now, talkin' dat way.  I's happy to be jus' a
country nigga fo' you, boss.  I be yo' nigga an' I suck you good,
boss!  You ain't gon' be sorry at all!"

This was actually going to work, thought Rashanta.  She had totally
humiliated herself in front of him, but it was worth it.  If being a
dumb cocksucking country nigger for this old white man was what it
took to get her out of this predicament, then she'd do it.

The naked black prisoner walked forward on her knees smiling stupidly
at the silver haired judge.  She kept smiling after she reached him
where he sat.  Unzipping his fly, she took his stiff white dick out.
She looked up into his eyes as she wrapped her hand around it and
began to slowly stroke it.

"Oh, lawdy!" exclaimed Rashanta, totally in character.  "You sho' got
a big 'un, boss!  I could tell it when you was fuckin' my black ass.
I knows you a real big man.  Jus' the kind I like havin' fuck my ass.
An' when you had me suck you I's so grateful fo' yo' big white cock in
my mouth an' yo' cum in my belly.  I jus' din't wanna let on in front
o' those lawyers.  I's gon' love bein' yo' nigga slave.  An' you gon'
love it, too, 'cause I be takin' good care o' you, boss.  You kin use
all my holes anytime y'all want an' I gon' do all I kin to make y'all
feel good."

"Just suck it, nigger," said Judge White sternly.  "Shut up and start
suckin'."

"Yes, suh, boss!" agreed Rashanta.

The black female prisoner took the old judge's dick inbetween her
thick negro lips and began to suck it in earnest.  She slurped noisily
as she bobbed her head up and down.  At the same time she massaged the
base of his cock with one hand and caressed his balls with other.  All
the while she kept her eyes locked on his to make sure of his
approval.  She put her heart into this blow job, unlike the time under
the table in his chambers.  She was certain he'd want her as his own
personal sex toy for the month rather than having her whipped and
leaving her here in the jail house.

Behind her, Rashanta heard the door open up and foot steps cross the
floor.

"Hey, Duane," said the judge, looking up, grinning.  "I'm just
enjoyin' this here nigger girl's mouth a bit.  How've you been?"

The negress continued worshiping the white man's dick without pausing
in spite of the fresh wave of hot shame that washed over her at the
sudden presence of the unseen stranger.  His footsteps drew closer and
then she saw him.  A tall, thin, white man in his late thirties stood
next to the judge's chair and looked down at her as she sucked the
older man's cock.  He had a full head of wavy brown hair and a thick
mustache that reached his chin.  He wore a loose black button up shirt
and black slacks.  He sported gold rimmed aviator style sunglasses
even in the dimly lit room.

"She's really goin' to town on you there, Harry," the new arrival
observed.  "She some hooker?"

"Fuck no!" the judge replied.  "Jus' some uppity nigger who needs some
trainin'.  She's learnin' all about how to behave here.  Ain't that
right, nigger?"

"Yes, suh, boss!" Rashanta agreed, pausing briefly to answer, and
quickly returning to the task at hand.

"Don't seem so uppity to me," said Duane.  "She's actin' like a proper
nigger so far as I can see.  You ain't complainin' are you?"

"It's just an act," Judge White replied.  "They all get this way when
whippin' time gets close.  All snooty and uppity 'til the whip-master
comes 'round.  Then they get all down home niggerly in a heart beat.
They all got it in 'em, but it shames 'em to let it out.  So they
gotta be desperate first.  Like this nigger here."

"Well, that's what y'all pay me for, Harry," the thin white man said.

Rashanta kept slurping and sucking and stroking.  She stuck her tongue
out and pressed it to the underside of his dick as she worked her
mouth up and down in order to increase the older man's pleasure and to
try to get him off.  Her jaw began to ache, but she kept up the pace.

"Damn, this nigger got a sweet mouth on her," the judge said huskily.
"You be makin' a mistake not to have some of this afterwards."

"You know I always partake," Duane responded.  "So don't worry none
about that."

"Fuck!" exclaimed the silver haired man.  "Fuck!"

The black woman sucked harder as the judge ejaculated in her mouth.
Thick hot spurts of semen hit the back of her throat and she quickly
swallowed it.  She knew men liked that act of total submission.  The
executives at her company were all married to precious white women who
wouldn't go down on their husbands, let alone swallow their cum.
She'd gotten alot of mileage out of that fact.  She had no qualms
about being a cocksucking nigger for the white men if it served her
purposes.

"I'll go get a coffee," said Duane.  "And let you finish up here."

"Oh!  Ahhh..." sighed the judge, his eyes closing for a few seconds..
"I'm through now.  Hang on."

Rashanta kept sucking until no more sperm leaked out of the white
man's dick.  At last she leaned back and stood on her knees with her
head bowed.  They always eat this part up, she remembered.  She
thought of it as the humble nigger look.

"Thank you, sir," she said softly.  "Dis nigga grateful fo' yo' cum,
boss."

Judge White stood and zipped his fly back up.  He reached into his
jacket pocket and produced an envelope.  He handed it to Duane.

"Here's your pay," said the judge.  "Two fifty, like always, courtesy
of the county.  Take care not to mark her up too bad, ok?  She's kinda
pretty for a nigger."

Rashanta was stunned.  He was going to have her whipped after all!
She'd given him the deluxe blow job.  The country nigger act.
Everything.  And he was still going to have her whipped!

"You ain't gon' still whup dis nigga, is you, suh?" she asked
desperately.  "I show you I's a good nigga, boss.  I suck you good.
An' I do it again and again fo' you.  Please don't beat me, boss!"

Duane looked over the tops of his sunglass lenses at the judge, who
smiled broadly and laughed.

"You heard me, girl!" the silver haired man protested with mock
surprise.  "I told him not to mark you up too bad!  What more do you
want?  What about all the nice folks who took the trouble to show up
to watch?  Some of 'em come for miles!  You don't want them
disappointed do you?  The sheriff's gettin' all the prisoners together
to learn a lesson, too.  I can't be wastin' his time by callin' it all
off!"

"But, boss!" cried the negress, the tears starting to flow, "I thought
you was gonna spare me the whippin'!  How 'bout I suck your friend,
too, boss?  I suck him so good he gonna cum like he ain't never cum
before!"

"I gotta get me a coffee, Harry," said Duane, pocketing the envelope.

"Hush now, girl," said Judge White sternly.  "You're startin' to get
tiresome.  You're a good cocksucker.  I ain't gonna argue 'bout that.
But you're just a nigger.  An' you're gonna suck me anyways.  An'
you're gonna suck ol' Duane, too.  And that's all there is to it, so
you best be gettin' used to the idea."

Duane shook his head with a knowing smile on his face and headed for
the door.  He let himself out, closing the door behind him.

"I gotta take a piss and there ain't no place to go," announced the
judge.  "Now, open that mouth up like a good nigger."

Rashanta was dumbfounded by this latest order.  Did he expect her to
let him pee in her mouth?  After betraying her that way?  He'd let her
play the dumb cocksucking nigger act all the way to the end and still
wanted more.  Maybe if he'd called off the whipping, but this was too
outrageous.  She looked up at him with her jaw clenched.

"Jus' like I figured," sighed the judge.  "Still uppity.  I knew all
that was just an act.  Well, that's ok.  I liked it fine.  Now stop
all this nonsense and open that pretty mouth of yours so I can take a
piss.  My bladder's about to burst here!"

The nude prisoner remained unmoving, her mouth closed.  The judge
raised his arm up.

Whap!  The blow knocked her off her knees and onto the floor.  The
judge towered over where she cringed on the floor.

"Get up," he growled.  "Get up or I'll give you a beatin' that'll make
the whippin' you're gonna get seem like kid stuff."

The slender black woman got back up on her knees, sniveling, her face
stinging from the open handed slap.

"Open up, bitch," the judge demanded.  "Open that fuckin' mouth up now
and take it."

Rashanta complied, tears streaming down her face.  Judge White
unzipped his fly and took his dick out.  He held it in his hand like
he was standing in front of a urinal in the men's room.  He stepped
forward, putting the head of his cock into the negro's mouth.  His
piss began to flow slowly, splattering onto the back of her throat.

"Lock your lips around that, nigger," the white man ordered.  "Better
not spill any if you know what's good for you."

The colored woman closed her lips over the judge's dick, still wet
from the blow job she'd administered a few minutes earlier.  She felt
his hand on the back of her head, forcing her face into his crotch.
The volume of urine increased as he relieved himself into her mouth.
She gulped the foul liquid down as fast a she could, fearful of the
consequences if any leaked out.

The old man must have been saving it up, the naked black prisoner
thought.  She'd felt as if she'd been gagging it down for at least a
minute.  Finally the stream subsided.

"Ahhh..." sighed the judge.  "That's the pause that refreshes!"

He stepped back from her and shook a drop or two off his dick onto her
brown skin and zipped up his fly.  He walked past her kneeling form
and peered out the dirty window.

"Crowd's starting to form," Judge White observed, mainly to himself.

The door opened and Duane walked in.  He had a white styrofoam cup of
coffee in one hand and what looked like a gym bag in the other.  He
set the bag on the table and sat in the chair, sipping the coffee.

"Sheriff's got the inmates in the courtyard to watch," the thin white
man said conversationally.  "Folks outside got all the good spots
covered already."

"It's almost nine now," the judge informed him.  "Think I'll go take
my seat.  Come on out when you're ready."

Duane lifted his coffee cup up in a mock toast to Judge White.

"I'll just be a few minutes, Harry," the mustached man replied.  "I
wanna finish this and then I gotta get the nigger ready for whippin'."

The judge walked out into the courtyard, closing the door behind him.
The whip-master sipped thoughtfully on his coffee.  The nude prisoner
remained kneeling on the floor, the taste of the older man's urine
burning in her mouth.  After a minute, he drained the cup and reached
for the gym bag.  He produced a pair of thick black leather cuffs
connected by a short length of heavy chain.

"Alright, girl, " he told her, "let's have your wrists."

Rashanta submissively presented her wrists to be cuffed.  A tear
rolled down her face.  Duane fastened the cuffs on her and looked her
in the eye.

"These ain't too tight now, are they?" he asked.

"No, sir," she answered, another tear forming.

"Good," said the white man.  "Now listen good, girl.  You best just
relax an' take it.  It'll go easier that way.  Get all tense an' it'll
only hurt worse.  Keep your back to me, I'd hate to mark those pretty
titties up.  Tender flesh marks up easy."

Duane reached out and caressed Rashanta's naked breasts.  Her nipples
hardened in response to his gentle touch.  The prisoner's tears flowed
freely now.  The whip-master stood and went to the door and opened it.

"It'll all be over with soon, girl," the whip-master consoled her.

"Ok, boys," he said out the door.  "Take the nigger on up there."

Bo and Rusty walked in and each took one of Rashanta's arms, lifting
her to her feet.  Rusty's nose wrinkled at the smell of piss on her
breath.

"I jus' had her all cleaned up, too, Bo," added the red haired guard.

"That fuckin' Hard on Harry," said Bo, shaking his head and smiling.
"He's just a mean son of a bitch, ain't he?"

"Oh yeah," agreed Rusty.

The two uniformed guards, their nude prisoner held firmly between
them, walked to the platform across the courtyard.  The negress looked
around and saw a sea of orange coveralls and gowns where the inmate
population stood waiting for the spectacle.  She could feel their eyes
upon her.  She felt as if she'd vomit what with the tension and taste
of urine.

They went up the platform steps and walked the black woman to a spot
under the overhanging beam.  She gazed through the fence to see
ordinary seeming white folks standing around looking back at her.
Most of the ones up front had brought folding lawn chairs to sit on.
Some sipped drinks or ate donuts while the stood there waiting for the
show to start.

Bo lifted the chain connecting the cuffs on her wrists and placed it
over the hook.  Rashanta had to stand on her toes to relieve the
strain on her shoulders and take the weight off her arms.  The guards
stepped back and stood on either side of where she saw Judge White
sitting in a folding chair.  Seated next to him was the district
attorney, the public defender, and the sheriff.

Duane climbed the steps, a thick braided leather whip in his hand.  He
walked to where Rashanta was secured, naked, hanging by her wrists,
her firm breasts sticking out, her calves stretched.  He reached up
and tugged on the chain to be sure she was held fast.

"Remember, girl, just relax and take it," he said softly so that only
she could hear, "Damn, but you look beautiful this way."

Rashanta fought back tears and tried to block out the murmuring
onlookers.  She looked straight ahead and saw the judge and his
companions looking on with expressions of eager anticipation on their
faces.

*Crack*!

Duane cracked the whip in the air and the crowd fell immediately
silent.  Rashanta yelped in fear from the sudden loud sound.  Judge
White stood up and faced her.

"Rashanta Wallace," the judge announced with grand ceremony, "having
been convicted of the crimes for which you are accused, the corporal
punishment part of your sentence will now be duly executed as
proscribed by the laws of our great state.  You shall receive twenty
lashes of the whip as I have ordered.  Proceed."

The crowd outside the fence began murmuring again.  The assembled
inmates shifted around on their feet.

*Whap*!

The first blow struck Rashanta on the back mainly on her right
shoulder.  The sound startled her and the pain wasn't instantaneous.
After a second, though, it started to burn.

*Whap*!

The second blow caught her on the left shoulder.  Again the pain
wasn't as bad as she'd expected at first but quickly built in
intensity in the following moments.

*Whap*!

The third blow was down the middle of her back.  With less flesh
protecting her the pain was worse.  Rashanta whimpered.

*Whap*!

This one landed where the first had, right across the welt that was
already rising.  The negress yelped in pain loud enough for the
onlookers to hear it.  The noise level increased noticeably.

*Whap*!

Next one was on the left again across the fresh welt.  She yelped
again.  The crowd grew louder.

*Whap*!

The lash went lower and struck her left ass cheek causing her to jump
and jerk at the chain.  The links made a loud metallic sound.  The
crowd gasped.

*Whap*!

Another blow to her ass, this time the right cheek.  Rashanta
whimpered and tried to absorb the blow.

"You're doin' good, girl," Duane told her from where he stood behind
her.

The dignitaries on the platform watched intently.  The judge and
public defender were positively mesmerized.

*Whap*!

The negress took the next blow across the back over two older welts.
The pain caused her to gasp and moan.  Her eyes watered.

*Whap*!

The lash kissed her ass cheek again and it burned immediately.  She
yowled like a kicked dog.

"Oooh!" went the audience.

*Whap*!

Her ass took another one right where the previous one landed.  She
tried to stifle a scream.

"You're takin' it fine," assured Duane.  "Good girl."

*Whap*!

A third blow to the same spot and she couldn't hold back the scream.
She could see the judge and his companions watching intently and she
didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much pain she
was in.

*Whap*!

Yet another blow to the same spot.  It was too much to bear and her
knees buckled and she groaned in agony.  She swung forward on the
chain holding her wrists together, her bare feet dragging across the
rough surface of the platform.

The crowd noise instantly rose in intensity.

*Whap*!

This stroke sent her slowly twisting around.  The poor whipped negress
sobbed and slumped forward in her bonds.

"Watch yourself, girl," warned Duane.  "I ain't stoppin' so you better
keep your back to me.  Such pretty titties..."

*Whap*!

The whip landed across her back, aggravating the earlier welted
stripes.  Rashanta let out a deep cry of pain.  She could hear the
onlookers gasp.  Her body rotated so that it faced the whip-master.

*Whap*!

The lash struck Rashanta's left breast across the nipple and on her
soft belly.  She let her head loll back and cried out.  The crowd
hushed at seeing this intimate blow.

"Turn yourself, girl," Duane instructed her.  "I'm tellin' you.  Those
titties ain't gonna like this."

*Whap*!

Another to her front.  A line of pain ran across her right breast.
She cried out pitifully.  She felt her bladder empty involuntarily.
Warm urine ran down the insides of her leg and left a trail of wetness
on the platform.  Her shame at pissing herself in front of this crowd
was almost as bad as the humiliation of the whipping.

"Don't worry none about that, girl," Duane consoled her, noticing that
she'd peed herself.  "Most everybody loses control under a whippin'
like this.  No need to be embarrassed."

*Whap*!

Another to the right breast.  Rashanta yowled again.  Her nipple was
on fire with the pain.  She desperately tried to get her footing and
turn away from the whip.  The crowd noise resumed as the onlookers
enjoyed the negress's plight.

"That's it," Duane encouraged her.  "Get your feet on the ground and
get your back to me."

*Whap*!

The whip struck her left breast causing her to cry out again and twist
away.  The chain rattled under the stress as the negress danced under
the lash.

"Yeah!" exclaimed an onlooker from the other side of the fence.

*Whap*!

Rashanta managed to turn her back to Duane and took the next blow
across her back.  The pain was almost unbearable and she sobbed
uncontrollably.

*Whap*!

The final blow took all Rashanta had out of her.  The whipped negress
slumped and hung by her wrists from the chain.  Her chest heaved.
Duane stepped forward and looked her over.

"You did pretty good, girl," he complimented her.  "I tried to not
mark you up too bad.  You got some pretty titties on you."

The guards ordered the assembled inmates back into the jail building.
The civilian audience milled around, the front row people gathered up
their folding chairs.  It was like people leaving an outdoor concert.
The only difference was that the entertainment was a different kind of
music.

Rusty and Bo lifted Rashanta while Duane slipped the chain off the
hook.  The held her up and walked her to face Judge White.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself now, nigger?" he asked with
an evil grin.  "Still feelin' uppity?"

The naked colored woman was covered with welts back and front.  A
sheen of sweat glistened from her bare brown skin.

"No, sir," she said in a small voice.  "I'm not feelin' uppity now."

"I'll be 'round to see you later," the silver haired man said to her.
"Just to make sure all that uppityness's beat out of you.  Take her
away.  Go have your fun now, Duane.  You earned it."

The two guards held their prisoner up and walked her towards the room
she'd been in before her ordeal.  The whip-master led the way and
opened the door.  The black woman watched as he sat in the chair the
judge had sat in earlier when she'd tried to convince him to call off
the punishment.

"Just leave the nigger here with me," said Duane.  "I'll call you when
I'm through with her."

Bo and Rusty let go of Rashanta, who stood on wobbly legs.  They went
back out the door and closed it.  The inmate stood naked and beaten
before the whip-master, still wearing his sunglasses.  She looked him
up and down and couldn't help but notice the erection bulging under
his black slacks.

"I hope you don't mind suckin' me off, girl," Duane started.
"Whippin' a pretty nigger girl like you gets me all fired up.  And
seein' you all welted up...  Well, my dick's about ready to bust.  How
about gettin' on the floor an' workin' some of that magic on me like
you did for Harry?  I'd be obliged."

Rashanta's body was racked with pain.  She was utterly humiliated at
having been publicly whipped, naked, for all to see her suffering and
crying.  She had no fight left in her and simply fell to her hands and
knees and crawled to him where he sat.

With trembling hands the negress unzipped the white man's slacks and
gently took his dick out.  She slipped it between her lips and
lovingly sucked the cock of the whip-master.  She had to give pleasure
to to the man who moments before had given her pure agony.

Rashanta sucked and slurped and bobbed her head.on Duane's dick.  Her
jaw ached, but then her whole body was in pain.  The welts of the
twenty lashes burned all over her.  Her back, her ass, her breasts,
all were covered with swollen red stripes.  The negress put all that
out of her awareness and focussed only on the business in front of
her: Pleasing the white man.  It was all that mattered now.  She
looked up at him, his cock still in her mouth, looking for his
approval.

"That's the way, nigger," the whip-master praised her technique
breathlessly.  "You sure are a fine cocksuckin' bitch.  And even
though you covered in whip welts, you still a sight to behold.  I
think maybe you're even more beautiful that way."

Rashanta actually took pleasure in his praise and sucked him in
greater earnest.  She brought her hands up and caressed his balls and
stroked his shaft.  He'd beaten her mercilessly and she wanted to
please him.  She didn't understand why.  She was driven and that was
all there way to it.

"Mmmm..." murmured Duane.  "Ahh..."

The white man stiffened momentarily and shot off in the negress's soft
wet mouth.  She swallowed his semen hungrily.  He slumped back in the
chair as she licked and kissed his cock.

"Thank you for usin' my mouth, sir," Rashanta said sincerely.  "It was
an honor to serve you.  Thank you for whippin' this nigger, sir.  I'm
grateful."

"My pleasure, girl," said Duane, standing and zipping his pants up.
"That was the best blow job I've got in a long time.  And you are one
fine nigger girl."

Rashanta blushed at the praise.  Her body hurt, but for some reason
his praise made her feel better.  She was confused, but just went with
the feeling and didn't try to analyze it.  Duane opened the door and
walked out without another word.  Sunlight streamed in from the
outside through the open doorway.

Bo and Rusty entered the room as Rashanta struggled to her feet.  No
longer needing their support, she walked between them as they escorted
her past the whipping platform and across the courtyard.  Her naked
flesh hurt as she moved, but she held her head high.

The other prisoners were at breakfast so the cells were empty as the
guards and their naked female prisoner went through the corridors of
the jail.  At last they arrived at her cell.

"In you go," said Bo.

The slender black woman carefully lay on her bunk and listened as the
cell door was slid shut and locked.  She wondered what had happened to
her and why she felt the way she did.  She'd actually felt compelled
to please the thin white man who'd given her so much pain.  Not just
compelled, she realized.  She wanted to do it.  Needed to do it.

Rashanta didn't enjoy the whipping, and her body was racked with pain.
But it hadn't been anything like she'd anticipated.  She'd been
dreading it and now it was over with.  All that remained ahead of her
were the thirty days on her sentence, though that still seemed like an
eternity.



  
Rashanta-07