Cold and hard

Somehow you manage to fall asleep on the cold, rough concrete floor of your cell, and you awaken at some point in the middle of the night to relieve yourself, sleeping in the opposite corner that the bucket is in. Falling back asleep, you dreams are invariably of the kinky nature, and you imagine yourself again leashed to a collar, being **** to suck on Vicky’s strap-on as she slowly pushes it past your uvula triggering your gag reflex, gripping your brown hair in her latex glove, forcing you to go deeper.

You awaken to the sound of heavy doors opening and heels clacking on the concrete and groggily open your eyes to see harsh, fluorescent light hitting your face. You try to rise out your captor steps on your hair hard, trapping you beneath her foot. “Morning, ****. I’m guessing we had a good night, if your morning wood is anything to go by.” She strokes your penis with her other foot, the leather caressing the hard, fleshy appendage that usually isn’t on most women. But you aren’t most women.

Before you can formulate a response, she drapes a thin towel, more of a cheap pillowcase over your face and begins to pour water on you, simulating the effects of being waterboarded. It is…exhilarating, making your hard-on go from barely hard to rock solid. She stops for a second to let you cough and catch your breath before resuming your water ****. After about two more minutes of this, she stops and removes the towel, leaving you to shudder from the air flowing over your wet body, to do whatever is next.