Hard Time for Rashanta
by Neal


Chapter 15 - Early Release


It was after breakfast when Bo came onto the cell block.  He opened
Rashanta's cell and then Chalissa's.

"Sheriff's office," he stated.  "Now."

The two black women followed as white deputy led them through the
corridor to the sheriff's office.

"Get those rags off," ordered Bo.  "Sheriff's got guests an' he wants
you niggers presentable."

The deputy knocked on the door.

"Sheriff?" he called.  "I got them nigger girls here.  You wanna see
'em now?"

"Bo, is you askin' me if'n I wanna see a couple naked nigger girls?"
replied Earl.  "Let 'em on in!  An' stick around out there."

The blonde haired deputy opened the door to the inner office and waved
the black prisoners inside.  Sheriff Baxter sat at his desk.  Rashanta
was surprised to see her boss, Paul Davidson, sitting on the couch.
She stood with her sister in the middle of the room as the door closed
behind them.

"Display position," commanded the sheriff.  "Show the man you knows
how to be good niggers."

The naked prisoners placed their hands behind their heads and stood
with their feet wide apart and their chests out.  Rashanta had done
this every time she'd reported to the sheriff.  But, somehow with her
boss sitting there watching as she was ordered around this way, it was
even more humiliating.

She realized that he'd used her helpless body the previous night.  But
then, she'd been completely immobilized and had no choice in the
matter.  Now, she obeyed with only the force of the sheriff's will to
compel her.  She felt humbled.

"Go ahead, Mr. Davidson," said the sheriff.  "Check 'em out.  Feel
free to poke and prod.  We been takin' good care of 'em here.  They
sure are a fine pair of niggers."

Paul stood and slowly walked around the displaying black women.
Rashanta's face burned with shame, but she stayed in position as
ordered.  She kept her eyes looking forward, but still watched him
inspecting her and Chalissa's naked bodies.  They were like pieces of
merchandise being evaluated for purchase, not women.

Rashanta felt Paul's hand on her back and shuddered.  She heard
Chalissa gasp, too.  He must have his other hand on her sister, she
thought.  She could feel the dampness growing between her legs as his
hand moved down her back and caressed her ass, pausing to squeeze each
cheek.

Paul came back into Rashanta's view when he stood in front of
Chalissa.  She could see his hands on her in her peripheral vision.
He fondled her baby sister's breasts, squeezing them, kneading them.
His hand went down between the younger woman's legs and she gasped
again.

"The younger one came around easy," the sheriff informed Paul.  "That
other one...  I ain't seen a uppity nigger in here like that before."

The silver haired man stepped in front Rashanta and looked her up and
down.

"Oh, I'm not surprised to hear you say that, Earl," said Paul.
"Shanta's as uppity as they come, believe me.  She always acted so
high and mighty.  I think she thought it made her seem like more of a
professional career woman.  But the way she'd use her body to get
ahead...  Well, I knew she was a nigger whore from early on.  Snooty,
sure.  But still a whore."

Rashanta blushed and cast her eyes down.  How humiliating it was to
realize now that she hadn't fooled him at all.  He was happy to just
use her and go along with the persona she tried to project.  And now
he stood in front of her, looking her in the face, and called her a
whore as though she wasn't even there.  Her face burned and she felt a
lump in the back of her throat.

"She coulda fooled me," said Sheriff Baxter.  "I gave her the chance
for easy time here when she first came into this very office.  I
figured a pretty colored girl like her'd jump at the chance to spend
the time on her back instead of diggin' ditches.  Y'all coulda knocked
me over with a feather when she threw it back in my face."

The slender negress felt shamed on more than one front.  Shamed by the
idea that the sheriff assumed she was a whore.  But also shamed by her
own disrespectful behavior to him.  She was so confused, her head was
swimming.

"Yeah, she's good at that act," agreed Paul.  "But that's all it is.
Just an act.  She's a nigger through and through."

"She came around pretty quick, though," continued Earl.  "Didn't take
too many days in the hot sun and nights at the mercy of some o' the
white girls we got in this place 'fore she was back in here crawlin'
on her belly for a another chance at special treatment.  Course me
bein' an old softy, I gave in.  I guess I jus' can't say no to a
pretty colored girl.  'Specially when she's offerin' up that
poontang."

"There is that," Paul responded as he continued to drink in Rashanta's
naked form.  "This girl's got a fine coochie on her and she sure as
hell knows how to use it.  Sweet mouth, too.  Never could get her to
do anal, though.  But, I bet her asshole's sweet, too."

"Judge White tells me her asshole's mighty fine," Earl informed him.
"Nice and tight.  Most o' the niggers in here been takin' it up the
ass so much they barely squeal when you stick 'em there.  Not this
one!  Poor ol' Harry could barely keep from shootin' his load off
after one stroke, she was so tight!"

Paul laughed at hearing that.  Rashanta blushed harder and felt a
trickle of sweat roll off her forehead.  She still couldn't bring
herself to look up.

"So, you've been holdin' out on me, eh?" smiled the silver haired man.
"Keepin' that asshole from me?  Well, I have a feelin' that's gonna
change now."

Paul reached down between Rashanta's legs, the nude colored woman
reflexively parted her thighs further to give him better access to her
sex.  The white man looked up into her face and smiled warmly as he
touched her pussy.

"My, my..." he said, looking her right in the eyes.  "You *have*
changed, haven't you?  You used to resist.  Maybe part of the act, I
don't know.  But now you make yourself available...  I like it.  Good
girl."

Rashanta still looked straight ahead, blushing profusely.  Somewhere
inside of her, Paul's praise gave her pleasure she hadn't felt before.
Her legs trembled as he stroked her pussy.  The pleasure from his
touch was more overt.

"You're wet, Shanta," Paul said softly.  "I can't say I recall you
bein' so responsive before.  And last night...  For the first time
your reaction seemed genuine.  I'd always made an effort to be
considerate with you in the past.  But last night I just used you for
my own pleasure.  I didn't care whether you liked it or not.  I just
wanted to take that pussy without you givin' it to me.  And you
fuckin' loved it.  You black slut.  You fuckin' nigger."

Rashanta whimpered at hearing his words and closed her eyes.  Her legs
felt weak.  Everything Paul said was true and she knew it.  She also
knew her pussy was sopping wet and she noticed she was bucking her
hips, humping his hand.

"So, all the time, this is what you really needed," continued Paul.
"You just needed to be taken and treated like the nigger slut you
really are.  I never would've guessed.  Well, I know now."

Paul leaned down and moved his hand further back.  Rashanta felt his
finger on her anus and squatted slightly to get the pressure of his
wrist on her needy pussy.  She whimpered again.

"You're gonna be givin' up this hole to me, aren't you, Shanta?" he
asked insistently.

Rashanta's eyes opened wide and she gasped as his finger pushed into
her ass.

"Answer me, bitch!" commanded the silver haired white man.

"Yes, sir," rasped Rashanta.  "It's yours, sir."

"Alright, then," he smiled again, withdrawing his hand.  "I'll be
takin' you up on that real soon."

Rashanta whimpered again, this time with disappointment that he'd
stopped his ministrations.

"Ah, you do like it, don't you?" Paul remarked.  "You want your
coochie stroked, nigger?  Beg for it."

"Please, sir," Rashanta pleased pitifully.  "Please don't stop, sir.
I's beggin' you..."

Paul stepped back and put his hands on his hips to look at her.
Rashanta fought back the urge to drop to her knees in front of him
contrary to the order to remain in the display position..  She could
feel her juices running down the inside of her legs.  How could this
be happening?  This was the same man who'd been inside her so many
times in the past.  But never had she felt so aroused by him and this
time he'd barely touched her.  What was so different?

"So, you *are* a nigger," Paul grinned with satisfaction.  "Aren't
you, bitch?"

"Yes, sir," whimpered Rashanta urgently, her hips bucking in the air.

"Say it, whore!" Paul commanded.  "Tell me what you are!"

"I's a nigger, sir," Rashanta admitted.  "I's a dumb slutty nigger,
sir.  Jus' like you say.  I's yo' nigga.  Yo' bitch nigga.  Please,
sir.  I need it, sir.  Touch my coochie some more.  Yo' coochie.  Yo'
coochie needs yo' touch, sir."

"On your knees, nigger," ordered the white man huskily.

Rashanta got down on her knees and looked back up at Paul, her hands
still clasped behind her head.  The plaintive look on her face was
sincere.  She desperately wanted him to take her and own her.

"Put your face on the floor," Paul demanded.  "Show me you know your
place."

The kneeling negress took her hands down and bent forward.  She rested
her face on the carpet at the white man's feet.  Pussy juice ran down
her leg and her musk was heavy in the air.  She felt like an animal in
heat, a slave to her desires.  But, she also felt right in her place.
Humble before the silver haired man was where she knew she belonged.

"Tell me again," commanded Paul, placing his foot on the back of her
head.

"I's yo' nigga, sir," came her muffled response, her face pushed into
the carpet.  "Dat's all, boss.  Jus' yo' nigga."

All this time the sheriff had been transfixed by the display in front
of him.  He couldn't believe this was the same uppity black woman he'd
first met a couple of weeks earlier.  Chalissa, too, was incredulous.
The black woman stood and watched her big sister grovel on the floor
out of the corner of her eye.

Paul removed his foot from Rashanta's head and stepped back.  He
walked to the couch and sat down.

"Come here, nigger," he called.  "Now."

Rashanta thought about walking over to him on hands and knees, but
quickly thought better of it.  She was possessed by the feelings of
the moment and lowered herself onto the floor.  She desperately wanted
to demonstrate to Paul that she knew her place and reveled at being in
it.

The naked negress crawled on her belly to where the white man sat.
The grit in the carpet scraped on her breasts and thighs.  She rose to
her hands and knees when she got there, waiting now for further
instructions.  She knew she'd do whatever he wanted.

"Suck my dick, nigger," ordered Paul flatly.

"Yes, sir!" responded Rashanta.

The black woman got up on her knees and reached for the man's belt.
She unfastened it and unzipped his pants.  He rose slightly so she
could pull his slacks down and release his erect cock.  The tip
glistened with pre cum.  Quickly she took it into her mouth and
started bobbing her head on it.  She looked up into his face, wanting
to see his approval.

Paul looked into her dark brown eyes and smiled.  Rashanta felt a warm
wave of pleasure wash over her.  She slurped noisily and moved her
head up and down in an effort to get him off.  Her jaw ached and her
neck was getting tired, but it didn't matter to her.  The only thing
that counted in her mind was his pleasure and his approval.  She'd
already forgotten about how wet she'd been at his touch and how
desperately she wanted him to continue stroking her pussy.  Now all
that mattered was his pleasure.

"Mmmm...  Ah..." sighed the white man as he released in the negress's
mouth.  "Oh, fuck...  Yeah..."

Jet after jet of hot semen hit the back of Rashanta's throat and she
eagerly swallowed it down.  She realized she was actually grateful for
his cum as evidence of his being pleased by her actions.  Again, she
felt a wave of pleasure.  Not pleasure from sexual stimulation, but
pleasure at having served her master well.  She knew she was his now.
Completely.

"Good girl," murmured Paul as the last spasms subsided.  "Good
nigger."

"Thank you, sir," Rashanta replied sincerely.  "Thank you fo' usin'
yo' nigga.  I's grateful I be pleasin' you."

Rashanta heard loud slurping noises behind her and she glanced back to
see the sheriff standing in front of the kneeling form of her baby
sister.  Chalissa's face was at Earl's crotch and his hand was on the
back of her head.  Clearly, the scene had been too much for the white
man and he was taking his relief in the younger negress's mouth.

"Uh... Uh...  Ahhh..." the sheriff verbalized, ejaculating in the
naked negro's mouth.  "Damn..."

Chalissa wasn't as good at swallowing as her big sister and ended up
with the sheriff's semen dripping out of her mouth and onto her
breasts.

Paul stood and pulled his pants back up.  Earl did the same.  The used
sisters remained on their knees awaiting further instructions.

"Alright, you two, get up and back into position" ordered the sheriff.
"Time to get down to business."

Rashanta and Chalissa both got to their feet and returned to the
display position in front of the sheriff's desk.

"It seems Mr. Davidson has arranged to pay fines for you girls and
you'll both be released into his custody," Earl continued.  "I have
your release papers right here."

Rashanta was taken aback by this development.  She knew there were
still at least two weeks on her sentence left and about the same for
Chalissa.  Mr. Davidson had essentially purchased their freedom and in
a sense owned them both.  The slender negress turned towards her
benefactor, her hands still behind her head.  Her baby sister followed
suit.

"I... I...," stammered Rashanta, "I don't know what to say,
Mr. Davidson.  Thank you."

"Yes, thank you, sir!" agreed Chalissa happily.

"Bo!" called Sheriff Baxter.  "Get in here!"

The door opened and the blonde guard stepped into the room.

"Get these niggers back in their street clothes, son," instructed the
sheriff.  "They're leaving."

"You bet, sheriff," said Bo.  "Let's go, girls."

Bo turned and went out the door, Rashanta and Chalissa followed.  They
retrieved their gowns and put them on while the deputy waited.  The
slender negress felt an excitement building inside her.  She was
minutes away from leaving this place and it didn't seem real yet.

They arrived at the examination room where their clothing was returned
to them.  Rashanta felt strange wearing the outfit she'd been arrested
in.  It seemed a lifetime earlier when she'd last worn her skirt and
blouse.  It certainly felt odd to be wearing a bra and panties again.

Bo buzzed them through the last door and the two sisters stepped out
into the sun.  Paul stood next to a car remarkably like the one
Rashanta had been accused of stealing.

"Y'all come back now, hear?" said Bo as the door closed.

Paul got into the car.  Rashanta sat next to him and Chalissa climbed
in the back.  He started the motor and pulled out of the parking lot.
The jail building receded into the distance.  The women were lost in
thought, the white man drove on in silence.

It wasn't long before they reached the interstate and were speeding
towards the airport.  Rashanta was puzzled when Paul pulled off into a
wooded rest stop and turned off then engine.

"Get those panties off, girl," Paul told her.  "I don't wanna wait any
longer.  Do it."

The old Rashanta would have objected, or at least put him off with
promises of carnal delights later if he'd wait.  She knew that he had
in mind to use her here and now in the seclusion of the trees and
picnic tables in the rest stop.  The old Rashanta would never have
gone along with something so embarrassing.

"Yes, sir," said Rashanta, reaching under her skirt and removing the
undergarment.

Paul opened the car door and got out.  Rashanta did so as well.

"Over there," he indicated an area surrounded by bushes.  "Let's go."

Rashanta followed Paul to where there was a picnic table hidden from
the parking area by thick brush.

"Strip," he ordered plainly.

The slender negress didn't even look around.  Fixing her eyes on the
silver haired man she quickly removed her clothing and stood naked
next to the picnic table.  She could feel her pussy throbbing again,
though it hadn't yet calmed down from the events in the sheriff's
office.

"Let's see that display position, girl," Paul continued.  "I found it
very attractive."

Rashanta smiled and stood tall with her legs open and her hands behind
her head.  She felt like an animal, naked here in the woods, the
traffic whizzing by a hundred yards away.  She was free to do it
because it wasn't her choice.  She was simply obeying instructions.

"Very nice!" said Paul approvingly.  "Very nice indeed.  Now bend
over.  I've waited way too long to enjoy that ass."

"Yes sir," said Rashanta, turning and presenting her backside to the
white man as she bent over, resting her upper body on the picnic
table.

The naked black woman heard the silver haired man unzip his fly and
was surprised when she felt his dick at the entrance to her vagina.
She was still well lubricated from before and his thick cock slid in
easily.  In spite of his age, she remembered his size and recuperative
powers being remarkable.  She also remembered how she considered that
an inconvenience in the past.  Now, she was grateful for it.

Paul stroked slowly in and out of Rashanta's pussy.  Her breasts
swayed with each thrust.  The sounds of passing cars and trucks were
so close, but her fear of discovery was zero.  Her only interest now
was in pleasing her benefactor.

"I'm just gettin' my dick wet, girl," said Paul.  "Then it's goin'
right up your black ass."

"Yes, sir," Rashanta replied.  "I's yo' nigga, boss.  You kin use me
how you like."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Shanta," said the older white man.
"Jail seems to have agreed with you.  Now I'm gonna fuck you in the
ass."

Rashanta felt him withdraw and instantly his erection was between her
cheeks.  Even covered in her juices, his dick was thick and she knew
it was going to hurt.  But, she was determined to take it for him
without complaint.

The slender negress valiantly suppressed crying out in pain when she
felt his cock penetrate her asshole and quickly fill her.  She wanted
him to enjoy himself without being distracted.  He grunted as he
shoved his entire length inside her.

"How do you like that, bitch?" Paul asked, breathing heavily.  "Does
it hurt?"

"Yes, sir," whimpered Rashanta.  "It be hurtin' me.  I wants to take
it for you.  Use my hole.  It's yo' hole, sir.  Fuck yo' nigga, boss."

"Fuck!" the silver haired man cried out.  "Oh, fuck!"

Paul came suddenly and Rashanta felt the spurts of semen in her ass.
There'd been no warning and the black woman was surprised it had
happened so quickly, especially considering he'd just gotten off less
than an hour earlier.

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed.  "You cummin' in yo' nigga!  Thank you,
boss.  You be honorin' dis nigga wit' yo' cum in her ass."

"Damn..." sighed Paul.  "Fuck, that was good, Shanta.  You always did
know how to get me off quick.  This dumb nigger thing is the hottest,
girl.  Fuck!"

Rashanta remained bent over with the white man's dick up her ass until
he softened and withdrew.  She turned to face him.

"I *is* a dumb nigga, boss," she said softly, her eyes downcast.
"An', I's yo' dumb nigga.  I's glad I be pleasin' fo' you, sir."

"Oh, I'm pleased, alright, girl," said Paul warmly.  "Very pleased."

"Thank you, sir," Rashanta said sincerely.

The black woman dropped to her knees and looked up at him.

"Kin I clean yo' cock off, sir?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah," he replied.

Rashanta took Paul's dick in her hand and leaned forward, taking it
into her mouth and sucking gently on it.  It was nasty, but she didn't
care.  She only wanted to serve and please the white man.  When she
finished with it, she kissed the tip and leaned back and looked up at
him.

"Thank you, sir," she said humbly, casting her eyes down again.
"Thank you fo' usin' dis nigga an' lettin' her clean yo' dick.  I be
honored."

"You're welcome, girl," he told her, still slightly incredulous at her
demeanor.  "Go ahead and get dressed now and go back to the car.  I'll
be right there after I take a leak."

Rashanta looked back up at him.

"Use me, sir," she asked.  "Use dis nigga's mouth to do yo' bidness."

Paul was surprised at her display of servitude and devotion and was
speechless.

"Please, sir?" Rashanta begged.

The negress leaned forward again and took his soft dick in her mouth
and waited.  In a few seconds she was rewarded with a flow of warm
urine that filled her mouth.  She managed to swallow it all without
spilling and kissed the tip of his cock when he was finished.

"Thank you, sir," said Rashanta, bending over and resting her head on
the ground at his feet.  "I is yo' nigga, boss.  I means it."

Paul stood there looking down at the naked groveling negro woman.  The
sound of a truck pulling into the rest stop broke the moment.

"Get up, Shanta," he said at last.  "Get dressed and go rinse your
mouth out.  We've got a plane to catch."

"Yes, sir," she said, scrambling to her feet.

Rashanta put her clothes back on and followed behind Paul.  She
stopped by a drinking fountain on the way back to where they were
parked.  She climbed into the car and saw Chalissa smiling at her from
the back seat.  The slender black woman picked her panties up off the
floor of the car and started putting them back on.

"You won't be needin' those, girl," Paul corrected her.

"Yes, sir," said Rashanta, her pussy tingling.  "I be keepin' my cat
bare fo' you, boss."

"You want mine off, too, sir?" Chalissa asked from the back seat.

"Yeah," replied the white man.  "Take 'em off.  You never know when I
might get the urge to stick my dick in you, too.  I want you ready for
it."

Paul started the car and they were off.  Rashanta pushed her panties
under the seat.  The airport was only a few more miles.

 * * *

Rashanta felt a thrill going through security at the terminal gate.
She felt vulnerable and exposed knowing her pussy was bare under her
skirt.  A close inspection would certainly reveal that fact.  Oddly,
she didn't dread discovery or even feel embarrassed.  What she felt
was pure sexual excitement.  She looked over at Chalissa and saw her
little sister blush in response.  Very likely, the younger woman was
as aroused as she was, she thought.

The slender negress could feel the dampness between her legs as they
walked across the tarmac.  They went up the steps into the commuter
plane that would take them to the hub where the connecting flight was.
Near the top of the stairs Rashanta felt Paul's hand up her skirt and
she instinctively paused and parted her thighs further, to give him
access.  He only left it there for a moment, but his touch had her
pussy gushing.

Shortly after taking their seats, the plane was taxiing down the
runway.  Soon they were in the air, leaving it all behind them.  The
jail.  The sheriff.  The deputies.  The judge and the lawyers.  And
all the prisoners.  Now all that seemed like a dream.  But sometimes
dreams can change a person.

Rashanta realized she'd been a fool with the conniving and scheming
she'd done in the past.  What she was experiencing now was better than
anything a fancy car or corner office could give her.  Soon she'd be
back at home and back at work, but it would never be the same again.



  
Rashanta-15