She was totally confused about what had happened, about why Paul had done that to her. What had she done to deserve this anyway! She wondered if it was true that they'd somehow found drugs in the car. How could there have been!
She huddled there, shivering and sniffling as she waited for them to bring her some clothes. She wanted to call her parents right away and tell them to come and hurry and get her out.
Paul showed up finally, and tossed her a blue dress. "Put this on, baby," he said.
She took the thing gladly and pulled it over her shoulders, gazing up at him with wide, frightened eyes. The thing was very tight, but she wasn't about to complain. She had to tug it hard to get it over her chest, and then jerked it downwards to her hips. It was very short, barely covering her loin.
"Come on," he said, motioning for her to stand.
She stood up meekly.
"Can… can I call my parents!" she gulped.
"Later," he said.
"Can I have my glasses?"
He spun her around and handcuffed her wrists together, then led her by the arm out of the room. They headed down the hall, not towards the front but towards the back, and then opened a door that led outside.
There was a police car waiting there and he pushed her into the back seat, then got into the front and pulled away from the station.
"Where are we going!" she asked.
"You say, Sir when you talk to me."
"Whe… where are we going, Sir!" she gulped.
"We're going to the County Jail."
"But… but why!"
"That's where we keep drug dealers and smugglers and whores and other lowlifes."
"But I… I didn't do anything."
"Oh no. Want to bet. Your record says you were caught selling cocaine to minors."
"What! What record!" she asked in confusion.
"Your criminal record. Not only that but you were convicted of arson, prostitution and child abuse."
"But… but that's crazy. I didn't do any of that!"
"Sure, sure. That's what they all say," he sighed.
"But I didn't! You can ask my parents!"
"Now, now no point denying it any more. You've already been sentenced. You'll have the next twenty years to try and make it up to society."
"But… but… sentenced! I… I didn't do anything!"
"Don't worry, County Jail can be a nice place as long as you're a good girl and do as you're told."
"But I didn't do anything!" she wailed.
"I told you to say Sir," he snapped.
"I didn't!" she sobbed.
"That's what they all say," he grinned.
Half an hour later they were at the county farm. Amy could see little of it, just a big blur, but tall fences surrounded the acres of fields. Men worked almost naked in the fields, guarded by a few men with shotguns. They drove through the main gate and up to a long, low concrete building that had bars on the windows.
He stopped and got out, then came back and pulled her out of the rear.
"Now you better act polite," he snapped. "These people in here don't take kindly to disobedience. It'd be a real shame if they had to whip that nice round ass of yours and leave scars on it, now wouldn't it!"
"But I didn't doooo anything!" she moaned.
"Keep complaining and you're gonna be beaten bloody," he said, shaking his head.
He led her in and they went down a concrete hall and stopped at a counter. A huge black woman got up and came to the counter.
"Got a prisoner here for the female section," he said.
The black woman gave Amy a contemptuous look, then took out a big pen and began to write.
"Name!"
"Amy Henderson."
"That's not my name!" Amy cried.
He jerked back hard on her hair and she cried out in pain.
"She's been trying to deny it for weeks. Judge didn't believe her, neither did the jury," he smiled. "Finger prints match up just fine. She's too stupid to know about fingerprints, though."
"Age!"
"Eighteen."
He tugged sharply on her hair to keep her from saying anything more.
"Next of kin!"
"None."
"Crimes."
"Here's the sheet, prostitution, arson, child abuse, drug trafficking. Sentence is twenty years."
Amy moaned and whimpered softly.
"Okay, you can go."
"Bye, bye, baby," Paul said, reaching under her short skirt and squeezing her bare ass.
"Dolores," the black woman said.
A tall, muscular white woman came forward and took Amy by the arm, jerking her down the hall.
"I didn't do anythiiiiiing," Amy sobbed.
"Aw, shut the fuck up," Dolores snapped, smacking the back of her head.
Amy only sobbed louder.
The woman dragged her into a large room and pushed her away. Amy stumbled and then caught herself, hugging herself tightly as she wept.
"Get that off," Dolores said.
"Wha… wha… what!" Amy whimpered.
"Take off your clothes," Dolores glowered.
"Wh… why!"
"Because I said so, slut!"
Amy cowered in fear, then reached down and hesitantly lifted up the short hem of the blue dress thing, peeling the tight fabric up her body and then off over her shoulders. She held it uncertainly for a moment before Dolores jerked it out of her hands.
"Get those shoes off," the woman growled.
Amy kicked off the plain shoes she had been given, then huddled there, trying to cover herself with her hands.
"Put your hands up above your head, and out," Dolores said, picking up some kind of spray container.
"Wha… what!"
"Put your hands up, slut!" Amy jerked her hands up high.
"Open then," Dolores glared.
Amy eased her arms apart, then stood there, red with embarrassment as the big woman pointed a small nozzle at her and sprayed a foul smelling substance all over her body. She ran the nozzle up between Amy's legs and prodded at her pussy lips, sniggering as the girl squeaked and jumped back.
She sprayed over her rounded ass cheeks, then up and down her back and even into her hair.
"Okay, whore, now get into one of the showers and shower off," Dolores said.
Amy scurried over to the line of shower nozzles as two more women came into the room. She turned the water on and turned her back to the three guards, trying to pretend they didn't exist. She was completely confused, to the point of being in shock. She didn't understand how this had happened to her, or why.
She let the warm water pour down over her head and body, then reached for the soap and began running the slick bar up and down her chest between her breasts.
One of the guards reached over and turned off the water suddenly.
"Don't waste water, slut," the woman said, "Soap up, then shower off."
Amy said nothing, turning her red face away.
"When a guard says something to you, you answer her, slut," Dolores snapped.
"I… l'm sorry," she gulped.
"You say, yes, Ma'am, or no, Ma'am. Understand something."
Both the guards twisted their batons around inside the young woman's guts, turning her yelps and cries to screams of agony. Dolores began pumping her baton up and down in Amy's rectum, delighting in the thumping of the tip against whatever was at the end of her anal tube.
Amy shrieked and sobbed, her head thrashing, her body shaking and twisting as the two big batons jammed up into her belly repeatedly. She was on her toes and still the two women forced the batons higher, punching the hard wooden batons into her with cruel force, pounding them deep into her body, impaling her.
"What a buttery little asshole we got here," Dolores grinned, watching the hard baton sliding furiously in and out of the teenager's rounded asshole.
"This cunt is too tight. Got to work it open," the fat woman said.
"Hell, girl," the black woman sniggered. "It'll be worked open soon enough. This little whore is gonna have half the town between her legs in the next few weeks."
Amy didn't even hear them for her own misery and pain and horror. She continued to struggle helplessly as her asshole and pussy were cruelly raped by the big nightsticks, not knowing or understanding why she was being treated so cruelly.