She almost shouted in frustration.The sounds had died down from the blond’s bunk. Amy gave up trying to achieve her own satisfaction. Her nerves wer...e on edge. She couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts turned to Margaret. Where was she? Was she in a cell like hers? Was she ok? Why did Margaret think that joining the demonstration would be fun? Why did Amy joyously join in? Fuck! Fuck! She was truly fucked. Would anyone believe her explanation? More to the point, was there anyone in this prison that could. Right away I started to do a back rub-massage, which I knew would relieve the pain. She acknowledged that it felt good and relaxed completely enjoying her massage. Knowing that the pain was over, my playful mind took over from my professional one. I continued massaging her, but gradually shifted to a different gear and pace, softly stroking her back from her head and neck down to her tailbone, the entrance to the spinal cord, which feeds the sexual energy up to the brain. I noticed from her. "No, no," she screamed as she realised their intentions.Her arms were held above her head and her legs pulled apart. With a searing pain the first one entered her and he started to pump in and out. She struggled and fought so hard in the end a large black guy punched her in the stomach taking all the wind from her lungs.He stood in the shadows as the six enlisted men took their pleasure from her naked body.She lay there still spread on the small bed."You fought very well but in the end they. She pulled the blonde strands straight behind her neck and slipped a rubber band around the knot. She looked pretty, she knew, but not as pretty as she was capable of looking. It didn't matter. She was going next door to tell Barbara exactly what kind of a sluttish pig she was. Why should she make herself beautiful to do that?Arlene stammered when Sam Carter, not Barbara, opened the door. Wasn't he supposed to be at work? Wordlessly, he left the door open for her, and she followed him through.