Swallow

"314!"

The steel door slides open crickety crack, and Officer Carol Swallow steps in, boots clickety clack. Uniform the same brown and yellow of all the other guards but narrow at the waist and wide at the hips. Cuffs biting on his slender, scarred wrists as she hooks them to a chain around his waist. Then down to one knee, incarcerating his ankles, her face at his crotch.

A tug and he follows her, hooting in his ears from his fellow inmates, all wrongly convicted, all right where they belong. Passes by Donte and Delonte and Officer Lickies outside, nods to his colleague and to her charge, his feet scraping along the gunmetal gray paint of the concrete floor. Then down another row of catcalls, then another. Through a door heavier than both of them. A right, then a left, encroaching darkness, a slim wooden door marked 'Janitor', inside a closet of dirt and chemicals.

His arms burn, his cock swells when another set of cuffs hooks him to a pipe overhead, rust sprinkling the spikes of his hair. Her hands at his waist, her face almost cute enough to be a boy's or a model's in his crotch, biting at his hard-on through the gray cotton, teeth raking zipper teeth. Until she frees it. And takes all of him, cock, balls, in a gulp, her mouth like an inside-out sweaty sock, smooth, soaked.

Her thick tongue around his taut veins, a sponge of blood, then a vacuum twirling stronger his balls sucked through his urethra, the sweat under his arms trailing trails down his torso, coagulating a diagonal in the triangle of soft hair squashed against her nose. His hips tighten, pump, he releases in squirts at the back of her throat. And might fall down the hole behind the last drops if she doesn't stop slurping-

Zipped up. Uncuffed. Dragged back. The steel rods re-form in front of him, panting, smiling on his back in his lonely bunk, her mother's form nothing but a trace of shadow. It was better than the last time.

"314!"