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One Flew Over The Cockoo Nest

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Imagine a mental hospital – not the realistic environment, more like what you see in movies like “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.” There was a large room where the inmates could gather. The nurse’s station was next to it. There was a wire fence over the window, so the nurse was protected, but could see and hear what went on. Next to her station was a wire gate, locked.

It was night and the lights in the room were all out. A little light came in through the small windows high on the walls. The nurse – young, blond and wearing a short starched uniform – was brand new on the job and had been assigned the night shift. The ward room was filled with female patients, and the nurse sat at her desk filling out reports by the light of a desk lamp.

The place was deathly quiet. Occasionally, she would hear whispering voices and sounds from the room. She knew the room contained a dozen or so patients, all with hard core “addictive” disorders she was told. She had come on after “lights out” and had not yet seen any of them.

As she worked, she began to notice the whispering had stopped, replaced by a low, but steady moaning. She recognized it as one of pleasure, not pain. She glanced out through the wire. The disparity in light made it impossible for her to see into the room. She tried to concentrate on her work and ignore the sounds. If it got worse, she would call security and ask for assistance. She had been instructed not to enter the ward room without an escort. The instructions had offended her. She was well trained. She was a professional, but, she thought, she needed to prove herself to her employers and that was alright.

In the utter silence, her ears could not help but hone in more and more on the sound. It was rhythmic. She could tell by the sounds it was a woman and that her mouth was open at times, the moan was gaspy, and at other times almost a hum. She knew that sound. It was the sound of a woman masturbating. “Well of course they did that, didn’t they?” she thought. A mental picture entered her mind of a woman’s hand sliding under her hospital gown in the darkness. Instantly, she tried to put it out of her head.

She couldn’t. The moaning increased in intensity. She tried to focus on the forms in front of her, but the sound now reverberated in her head. She stood and peered into the darkness. She noticed light coming out of the Treatment Room, but could not see inside. She could see women in cots all lined against the walls. They all seemed still and she couldn’t pinpoint the sound. “Maybe she should call security” she thought, “but what would she tell them?” She decided not to.

She went back to her work. The moaning continued and even picked up in intensity. She began to feel it affect her. She thought back to the sight of a woman’s one hand caressing her breast, the other stroking her pussy. She imagined the sight of the gown being pushed aside, its tie-strings slipping loose. “Work” she thought, “you’re a professional. You can handle this.”

She convinced herself to ignore the sound. She went back to her forms. She crossed her legs. She ignored the sensuous feeling of her white stockings sliding by each other as she did so.

The phone startled her. She picked it up, “Third Floor, Nurse Reynolds” she answered.

“Everything okay up there?” the security guard asked.

She hesitated. “Yes, everything’s under control,” she said wondering if she was lying.

“Okay, well call me if you need me. It’s 2:00 o’clock, and we normally settle down about this time. We’ll still be down here if you need us, but we don’t make any more rounds until in the morning.” The tone of his voice and the sound of a TV sports show in the background emphasized security’s idea of “settling down.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll call if I need you,” she said as professionally as she could and hung up.

The volume of the phone and the conversation temporarily adjusted her hearing and the moaning seemed to have stopped. “Maybe she’s finished,” she thought and she smiled.

She went back to her work. Now paying attention to the charts in front of her, she began to notice the background information on one of the charts: “Transfer from Garden State Correctional Facility.” She looked at another: “S.C.C.I. Inmate.” She flipped back in the chart to find more records. She went through several criminal histories. There were convictions for kidnapping, sodomy, rape. These were bad women, whose mental problems deprived them of their ability to control themselves. She hadn’t known that when she took the job. Knowing it now made her feel slightly nervous. She looked at the picture of the inmate in an open file. Her hair was cropped short, military style. Her eyes were dark and penetrating. She glanced at the wire fence and wondered if it was enough to protect her. She reminded herself she was a professional.

Going back to her work, she heard it again, the moaning. No, this time it was slightly different. Another inmate? Again, she tried to put it out of her mind. The moans became more intense. Was this one closer to the window? She looked in again. She walked around to the gate and stared into the darkness. No movement. She sat back down.

The sound was continuous now. It filled her mind. She thought of an inmate stroking herself again, bunching her gown up between her legs and humping herself with it. Again, she crossed her legs. She wondered, without realizing it, what these women must think about while they masturbated. She imagined scenes involving blindfolds and leather and helpless, bound women. Her high heeled foot began to move back and forth slowly. The moaning had a hungry sound that captivated her. Her hand unconsciously moved down and brushed her uniform just over the lace of her stocking.

The thought of being that close to danger did excite her. Her mind drifted back to the images. The victim, bound and blindfolded, being forced to submit to the desires of her kidnapper. She closed her eyes and thought of it, played it out in her mind – the struggling, the vulnerability. Allowing herself, she saw herself as the victim, saw her uniform ripped open in front, her arms tied to the arms of her chair. She rubbed her thighs together and enjoyed the feeling. The sound of moaning seemed to react to her fantasy. She dismissed it as coincidence. She twirled a pencil in her hands. She imagined the woman inmate whose picture she had seen dressed in dark leather standing in front of her, unzip a vest and push a tit toward her mouth. She raised the pencil slowly and slid the eraser over her lips. She saw the face of the inmate. The moaning became even more urgent. She could hear only it, and the sound of her stockings rubbing together. The intensity of her own fantasy surprised her.

Her eyes closed, she moved her hand even lower under the desk. Even with her training, she couldn’t deny the pleasure the sounds brought her. She also began to hear a faint cry of “noooo, noooo” mixed in with the moans. It played right into her fantasy. She “saw” the inmate unfasten black leather pants, grab the victim by the hair and pull her mouth toward her pussy. “Nooo. Nooo!” The urgency of the voice brought her back to reality. One of her patients might be in trouble and she was after all responsible.

Again, she stood and looked in. She strained her ears for any sound of distress. She heard only a faint whisper. “Maybe they were just talking” she thought. After all, she liked to speak out loud when she was alone in bed and enjoying her own body. These women would be no different, and, given their backgrounds, their fantasies might involve some protesting. She didn’t want to appear frightened and decided against calling security. She settled back down in her chair.

Soon the familiar sound returned. She tried to concentrate, but she found her mind drifting constantly into the pleasure she was hearing. Then she heard another voice, faint at first, but unmistakably engaged in the same act. It made sense, didn’t it? If it had an effect on her, a normal woman with normal self-control, wouldn’t the sound of one stimulate another. Now slightly aroused, she couldn’t distract herself from the sounds. Another voice joined in. She began to imagine them all lying in their beds rubbing themselves, squeezing their breasts to simulate the style of sex they all enjoyed. They were after all criminals, women who took what they wanted from other weaker women, who made their victims do unspeakable things, terrible things, lecherous things.

She closed her eyes again. The sounds took her back to her fantasy. She was there in her chair, her face being forced between a woman’s legs. She imagined the feel of leather pants straddling her cheeks. She imagined how she would struggle, how she wouldn’t cooperate. Her hand slipped under the desk again to the slit in her uniform just below the last button. She felt the silkiness of her stockings and thought of how sexy she looked in her white merriwidow, how it made her look innocent, even Victorian. She was barely conscious of her fingers unbuttoning the bottom button. The moaning was all so rhythmic now. They had infected each other with their pleasure, and all of them seemed to be doing it to themselves. It was “professional” for her to ignore it, wasn’t it? Her fingers slid over her thigh. It was under the desk. No one could see. No one was there. No one would know, would they? And that moaning. It was driving her to it. No one could just ignore it, could they?

Her legs were crossed and she slid the top one up slightly, just enough to slide her fingers down the side of her thigh. She sat posed with the pencil. If someone saw her, they’d just think she was working? Those moans. She slid her hand deep up against her pussy. She felt its wetness. She began to move slowly and steadily in her seat, pressing her pussy against her fingers. Her foot was pumping back and forth under the desk now. She stifled all the sounds she wanted to make. “Oh, I shouldn’t,” she thought, but she knew it was too late.

She was breathing heavily now. She tried to maintain her posture, to maintain the illusion she was working, but . . . it . . . felt . . . so good. Women in the ward were moaning loudly now, all of them. She heard some of them saying “yesssss, yesssss.”

They couldn’t know how they were encouraging her, could they? “No,” she though, “to them I’m just working and ignoring them.”

She heard one voice, caught in a fantasy, say icily “yeah, that’s right, bitch, lick it. Lick my pussy.” The image caused her to slump back in her seat. The pencil rolled out of her hand as she gave in more to the pleasure.

“No one is watching me” she convinced herself. “No one will know.” Her free hand came up slowly to her breast. She caressed the underside of it, and thought back to her kidnapper.

The imagined woman in black leather this time stood directly in front of her. Her uniform was gone. She was in her lingerie only. She was no longer blindfolded or tied. She looked up into the dark eyes. They moved slowly down her body. They stopped on her breasts. The woman brought out a shiny steel knife. She touched the tip to the nurse’s chin and slowly trailed it down. She felt the razor sharpness of the knife and could not move. She had to let her do what she wanted.

The nurse was now more in the fantasy then in her office. Only the sounds of the women’s pleasure penetrated the fantasy. She remembered them for an instant. She imagined that, now, they had probably begun to turn on each other. She thought of the stronger ones moving on to those too weak to resist. Her hand began unbuttoning her uniform. Her head was spinning now. She imagined the feel of the knife blade coming slowly down her chest. She leaned her head back and pulled her uniform open. She uncrossed her legs and pushed herself back from the desk. Her legs tangled in electrical cords, but in her mind she imagined them as bindings. She rubbed her stockings together as if she were struggling against leather straps.

“Yes, yessssss” the voices were calling to her now. She heard them and she obeyed them. As she imagined the knife slipping under the edge of her lingerie, her hand slowly pulled it down. Her fingers slipped to her nipple and she felt her uniform slide open and down her sides. The voices were so loud now. She imagined them at the window, watching her, clawing at the wire, wanting to get to her. Her fingers slipped inside her panties and she began to ravage her own pussy. She pinched her nipple hard. Yes, she wanted them there. She wanted them to see her, to watch her. She imagined their tongues poking through the wire. They were turning on each other for pleasure, for something to satisfy them while they watched her. She rolled her head from side to side.

The next sound she heard was that of a door closing. It was faint, but it was enough to bring her back from where she had been. She sat back up quickly and frantically fastened two buttons. It took her a second to realize she was still alone. Even the noises had stopped. She stood and looked through the window. Nothing. She was finishing the last button when she noticed the door to the training room was now closed. She realized it must have been the one she heard close. And that meant someone had gone in there. She knew that they could hurt themselves there. It was mainly used for calming therapy, massages, but there were also tools used for treatment which could be very dangerous.

She called security, but no one answered. She tried again. “Settled down?” she thought to herself. Just then, she heard a whimper from the treatment room. She peered into the ward room. All the bodies were still. She judged the distance from the gate to the treatment room as 20 feet. She could make it in and out in ten seconds she estimated. She thought of the criminal records. “But they are your patients,” she thought “and you are responsible”. She tried security again, but again got nothing. She reached into the drawer and found the keys. “This will be easy,” she told herself. “They’re all asleep.”

The gatelock made no noise as she turned the key. She looked at each bed again before lifting the latch. She stepped inside and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She felt the danger as she stepped on the balls of her feet, keeping her sharp heels from striking the floor.

She was almost to the door when she saw the first body stir. She froze and stifled a scream. She watched the blanketed figure turn and come back to rest. She lifted her leg to take another step when she felt an iron grip on her hair pulling her backward. This time, she did scream. She tried to turn and run for the gate, but another arm came around her holding her in place and covering her mouth.

“Oh no, baby,” came the whisper in our ear. “It’s not time to go. It’s time to play.”

Her struggles increased as she saw the other beds come to life. Blankets flew off as the inmates circled around her. “Lookie here ladies, Nurse Reynolds wanted to check and make sure we were safe.” It was clearly the voice of someone mentally disturbed. The others smiled. “We sure did enjoy your little show.” With that, the hands released her and went down to her uniform. She tried to get away as it was ripped open, but the others caught her. She felt their hands all over her. She felt them pressing in on her. They were like animals, tearing her uniform the rest of the way off. Her arms were pinned behind her.

“Now, now, ladies, let’s all take our turn,” one of them laughed.

She was dragged, then, toward the treatment room. The door was opened and she was shoved inside. She came to rest against a stainless steel and black leather table. She looked up quickly and gasped at the face of the inmate in her fantasy. She had been waiting for her, waiting to give her her treatment.

The inmate smiled at her. She was standing naked. The nurse could see the many scars and tatoos on her hard body. She also saw the huge strap-on dildo hanging at her waist and wondered for a second how it had been smuggled in.

“Ju like my little friend, da?” she says in a heavy European accent.

“No, not at all. You’re not supposed to have that in here” the young nurse says trying to regain her composure. She can get out of this she thinks. She is trained for dealing with mental patients. She just needs to be firm.

“Vould ju like it more in jour mouth?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Let me go now, and I will consider not reporting all this.”

“Oh, has jour mood changed so much?” the inmate says sarcastically, “Vell, ve’ll just haf to change it bahck. Vere is Tonja?” Two inmates depart.

The nurse hears another scream from the ward room. “No! No! Pleeeease!” They bring in a young woman, an inmate who had not participated in her attack, a small, but big-breasted brunette. She is resisting uselessly.

“Let us see if Tonja can help ju,” the leader says. The nurse stands impassively trying not to display the awkwardness she feels in her sexy outfit. The door is blocked. She curses herself for her lingerie. Her training tells her that, no matter what, she must ignore the patients’ actions. The leader steps close to her, her mouth inches from the nurses ear as her hand trails down the front of the nurse’s merriwidow. Her fingers slide under the strap of her thong. The nurse holds her head high, biting her lip. With one swift snatch, the strap burns, then gives way. The nurse closes her eyes for a second and stifles a whimper.

“Dis is Tonja. She vill make ju better. She makes us all better.” The leader steps away.

“Do not do this” the nurse commands as Tonya is brought before her and forced to her knees. The two inmates step to the sides of the nurse and hold her wrists. As Tonya raises her head, the nurse looks straight ahead, her face is as calm as she can muster. She won’t show them anything. They will tire of this, then she can talk her way back out.

She still jerks slightly as Tonya, who has obviously learned to obey, first slides her cheek against the inside of the nurse’s leg. The nurse composes herself. She focuses on the situation, clinically. Tonya’s fingertips come slowly up the backs of her ankles as lips press against the front of her thigh. She can handle this she tells herself. It is after all not sexual. She feels the flick of a tongue on the inside of her thigh. Fingernails slide over the silk on the backs of her knees. She refuses to look down.

Suddenly, Tonya stops. “No, we shouldn’t do this” she says meekly.

“Oh but vee must Tonja” the leader hisses “Somevon please help motivate Tonja.” On command, one of the other inmates eagerly steps forward, a massage vibrator in hand, and switches it on. The nurse doesn’t watch as the inmate leans down to Tonya, but can tell the inmate has grabbed her hair and slides the vibrator under her.

“No, no, please, not that” Tonya protests “noooo-ahhhhh”. After a few seconds of the vibrator humming, Tonya’s pleas slowly subside. After a few more, the nurse feels the gentle kiss of lips back on her thighs.

The nurse refuses to admit her own reaction to the thought of Tonya’s reluctance, but the sight of the inmate’s shoulder moving up and down and the image of the vibrator roaming over Tonya’s ass and pussy will not leave her mind. Tonya’s hands move up to her ass. The hum of the vibrator intensifies and subsides. Tonya begins to lick up and down on the inside of her thighs. “Stop this!” the nurse tries to command. She pulls against those holding her. The vibrator is now making Tonya even bolder. Her hands begin to squeeze the nurse’s ass in rhythm with her tongue.

“Jes, Tonja jes. Ju like de nice nurse, don’t ju?” She feels Tonya’s face nod as she licks and remembers how weak minded some of these women are.

The other inmates are all watching intently. They begin to massage themselves. Tonya’s tongue feels soo good . . .. No! She won’t allow herself to give in to this. She regains her composure. She pulls against her captors. “Stop this . . . now” The vibrator is whirring now. The other inmates are starting to moan. Some are giving each other deep kisses, there tongues moving in and out of their friends’ lips, like wet dicks. The nurse closes her eyes. When she does, she immediately becomes even more conscious of Tonya’s tongue now moving high on her thighs, slipping under each strap of her garters. The nurse let’s out her first gasp.

“Jes Tonja jes. I think Nurse Reynolds likes dat verrrry much.” The nurse hears the sound of the vibrator bearing down. Tonya’s tongue reacts by sliding up into her pussy. Tonya’s nails dig into the nurse’s ass as her tongue flicks back and forth, up and down. Two people in the room know how wet the nurse has become. The nurse struggles harder. She tries to back away, but now Tonya has attached herself to the nurse’s pussy.

“No. No, Tonya, no.” the nurse gasps trying a direct appeal, “Don’t do this, please.” She almost swallows her last word as Tonya, no longer reluctant, slides her tongue on inside the nurse’s pussy. Tonya is working the nurse’s hips back and forth now. Part of the nurse is fighting to keep composure, but another part wants to give in. And one part is growing stronger every second.

The nurse opens her eyes. She sees the leader watching her, pinching her own nipple with one hand. With the other, she is stroking the dildo hanging in front of her, running her cupped hand up and down it’s length. As Tonya’s tongue slides in and out, the nurse cannot keep her eyes from focussing on the “cock”. “Jes, Nurse Reynolds, give in to it. After all, vee have all night.”

The nurse is losing the battle. Tonya is very gifted. All the nurse can do now is whisper “nooo, nooo”. The inmates holding her feel her weaken. From both sides, they begin to massage her tits. They draw her wrists together behind her, making her breasts poke out. The nurse still struggles, but now only one hand is able to hold both of her wrists. Her head rolls back, her mouth open. Tonya’s tongue is swirling inside her. “There are . . . too many . . . of them” she thinks. “I can’t stop them. I can’t stop them all.”

Her long neck exposed, the two inmates begin kissing and licking up the side of it. Their hands are massaging both breasts. “Stop it. Staaaaaaahp,” the nurse whispers, wishing she sounded more convincing.

“Ju want us still to stop?” she hears the leader mock “Let us see if dis helps.” She hears the click and hum of another vibrator. She tries to pull her head back forward, but one of the inmates beside her grabs her hair and holds her head back. “Let me see da good nurse’s breasts to see just how much she vants us to stop.”

The inmates slowly reach up to her outstretched tits and begin pulling down the top of her merriwidow. “Noooo, please don’t!” With all that is within her, she tries to will her nipples back to normal, but as the lace scratches over them, she feels it ride down their length – another defeat in the battle to resist.

The vibrator hums closer. She hears it moving back and forth just in front of her. She pulls hard with her arms and it takes both inmates to restrain her. Her head freed, she looks into the face of the leader who is staring at her nipples. Tonya’s tongue is pulsing inside of her now. Beyond the leader, she sees the other inmates watching, watching her bare tits, watching her struggle, watching Tonya raping literally her with her tongue. She can no longer speak. She tries to stare bravely at the leader, tries not to show the pleasure that Tonya’s tongue is giving her. How can she stop this?

The vibrator first touches her just below the nipple on her right breast. The inmates beside her allow their hands to trail down. One begins to massage the top of her pussy while the other grabs Tonya’s hair and presses her non-resisting face even deeper into the nurse’s pussy. The vibrator begins ranging up over her breasts. Her hips no longer can resist Tonya, and she begins to move them back and forth on her own. “I can’t . . .” she thinks, but then the vibrator slides over the top of her breast. Her eyes close and her head rolls back again. The sensation in her pussy is so strong, she can barely stand up. She slumps, but the inmates hold her up. The vibrator is working her over, and she cannot help but moan aloud. “Oh, yesssss,” she thinks, “Yes, do it to me. Take me. Make me do whatever you want.”

Tonya has not let up yet. The vibrator is moving all over her tits. “Annuther” the leader commands sharply and in seconds she is conscious of another vibrator on her body. The inmates holding her now allow her to slump against the wall behind her. They each pull her arms out to her sides.

The leader comes forward. Tonya presses into her, now with the wall to push against. She opens her eyes slightly and sees that the inmates watching are now turning on each other. Stronger ones are beginning to prey on their tough, but not tough enough, ward mates. They are all naked now. One large dike looking woman forces a smaller, struggling inmate down and presses her twisting face into her pussy. Holding her by the hair, she works her face back and forth as she stares at what’s happening to the nurse. Soon, the weaker one surrenders and even moves her hands up to massage the stronger one’s breasts. No doubt, she has been well “taught” on other occasions. Tonya’s well-conditioned tongue seems to grow inside her pussy. They are all making sounds like animals, animals with her to feed upon. The inmates beside her are licking up and down her sides and down her outstretched arms. She closes her eyes again.

“Now, let us see if she is ready” the leader says as she withdraws the vibrators. The inmates beside her hold her up and move her to the edge of the treatment table. She does all she can to fight them as they lift her up on it and push her down, but there are too many of them. Her arms extend back over her hear and her hands feel the cold steel handles that stick up from the table used to restrain patients. She runs her fingers around the steel bar and enjoys the feeling of her wrists sliding under them. She strains for an instant when feels hands fastening leather straps around them. She closes her eyes and pulls against them.

Hands move down to her legs and slide out slowly over her stockings, fastening down each ankle. For an instant she jerks from the feel of cold surgical steel above her pussy as a razor sharp knife slides under her merriwidow and slices it up the front, its stretchy material pulls it open completely. “Undt now, a little special treatment.” Her next sensation is the feel of massage oil being poured onto her breasts. Immediately, hands work the oil all over them, the process being repeated over and over, the hands becoming more and more slippery each time. She imagines all the inmates fighting to get to her, encircling her. She begins to moan and twist against her bindings. She has no control over anything that will happen. She allows herself to slip away into pure pleasure.

She hears the sound of a massage vibrator returning. She moans as it first touches her nipples. It is soon joined by others, rubbing over her breasts, quickly becoming covered with oil and sliding easily all over her. Hands work down to her pussy. Her hips react, but her legs are caught in the restraints and all she can do is move and twist against them, her body pleading for them to keep going. The lights are turned out.

One vibrator slides down from her tits, instantly replaced by another, and inches toward her pussy. Her hips move hard trying to hurry it to her, but she can’t move enough to speed what are now patient movements. The vibrator stops, lying right on top of her pussy, the sensation sending waves of excitement through her. Even more hands and vibrators move on to her. One vibrator touches the top of her thigh and slides down to the sole of her foot. She hears the sound of tape being peeled off a roll and feels the vibrator being strapped against the bottom of her foot. Another on the other foot. One behind each knee. One slid under her ass almost sends her over. Another trails up the edge of her stomach muscles and is strapped to the top of her breast. The other breast. With each additional vibrator, more and more sensations meet her. Another slips up her side to just under her arm, then the other. One is left on her navel. One each in the palms of her hands. It feels as if she is being taken by countless mechanical devices and she is helpless to stop any of them. Finally, the vibrator left at the top of her pussy begins sliding all around the edges of her lips.

She is lying in total darkness, the sensation of all the vibrators working with different rhythms on her entire body. The largest one at her pussy now stroking up and down through her lips. It slides inside of her and it feels as though the intensity of every vibrator goes up instantly. Then she feels the cold sensation of ice cubes on her breasts. She pulls wildly against her bindings. The vibrators seem to strengthen, their hold on her now assured. The ice cubes are pressed against her nipples and the coldness makes them more erect than she ever thought possible. She feels the ice water trickling down the sides of her tits. She feels hands all over her.

“Ooooh yessssss” she whimpers. The inmates turn up the intensity of all the vibrators until they all seem to be boring into her. She begins to lose her awareness in the sensations. Nothing matters to her except the pleasure she is feeling. The leader turns over the main vibrator in the nurse’s pussy to Tonya, who is now . . . totally motivated.

The leader feels her way around to the head of the table and slowly climbs up on it. Her knees are on each side of the nurse’s head, her dildo swinging slightly, just over the nurse’s face. “Ahn so, do ju want my little friend, now?” she hisses.

The nurse is beyond being a professional, beyond being a nurse. She is now simply the embodiment of a woman’s desire. She is a plaything, and she loves it. The inmates, with their hands and vibrators, are stimulating her everywhere. She feels the dildo brush by her lips in the darkness. She wants it. She wants it in her mouth. She wants to imagine sucking a dick as she never has before, feeling its ridges work back and forth over her tongue. She doesn’t speak and, with her hesitation, unseen hands squeeze down hard on her nipples. Her back arches in pain and pleasure.

“I ask’d jou a question, Nurse Reynolds.” The reference to her title makes her pause only until the vibrator in her pussy presses upward against her spot.

“Yessssssss” she whispers, “yessssss.”

“G’t” is the only response as the leader’s fingers rub roughly over her lips. “Take it now. Take my friend,” she says as she lowers the dildo to her mouth. The nurse still manages to turn her head to the side in a trace of resistance. The leader moves her head back and presses the dildo into her. Oily hands massage her, around the vibrator in her pussy. She can no longer resist and her mouth accepts it. It felt good sliding in. As she begins to lick and suck it, she can feel the leader’s hand pumping it at its base. The leader leans forward supporting herself on one hand and pressing the dildo in farther. The vibrator in her pussy works deeper and more intensely.

She raises her hips and, by the time they lower, the vibrator beneath her is pointed towards her. She can no longer resist, no longer wants to. She allows it to slip inside her and she sucks even harder. “Jesss, jesss, Nurse Reynolds. Jou are having pleasure now. Undt now jou will give me pleasure also.” With that the dildo withdraws from her mouth. It trails heavily down her chin and neck and slides between her tits. The vibrators move aside for it and then press her tits around it. The oil and saliva on it make it slide freely.

Then the leader begins to lower her pussy onto the nurse’s mouth. She is ready for it, ready to be obedient. She plunges her tongue into the pussy and tastes its sweetness.

“Dah . . . jesssss, jessss,” she hears the pleasure. “Do it all to her now” the leader pants, and the inmates totally descend on her body. They lick and squeeze, tongues fight to enter her. She feels the leader’s hips pumping her face. She imagines the sight of it, her arms and legs strapped down, her oily body glistening as it writhes in pleasure. She imagines the sight of all the hands and devices sliding all over her. She pictures the huge dildo pumping back and forth between her arching tits. And the sight of the leader’s sinewy body straddling her face, making her eat her pussy. She works her tongue obediently into the leader’s pussy. She wants to make her to cum. In and out, in and out.

She thinks of all the images. She feels the sensations. Then she cums as she never has before. She jerks . . . convulses against her bindings as the leader shouts “Jessssss, Jesssss!” The inmates stay on her. They will feast on her body the rest of the night.

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