Deputy John

You sat in the bed covered in just a sheet as you went over the official sealed document again, delivered personally by Wesley Hanneman, Jr., the Clerk of the United States House of Representatives. In your bedroom, leering at the prostitute prisoner who was now getting dressed. It was the law announcing the formation of a Deputy for the President of the United States in Prisoner Affairs, and all the responsibilities that position entails, and going over the selection process (a random number generator, provided by a website that analyzes environmental stimuli, that connected all 150 million United States citizens deemed eligible for the position by age, gender, and criminal history).

The law is ginormous, several pages long, filled with contingencies and legalize that you couldn't even decipher as a pre-law college student. "So... you want me to fuck prisoners?" you say, trying to understand the gist of the law.

Wesley sat down. "It's up to you, really. You're the Deputy, given the ability to command every prisoner in the federal system in whatever way you please. Sexually, financially, physically. Your only limit is your imagination. But, if you end up being a serial killer or something, let us know now, so we can prepare for that eventuality. I think everyone just expects you to mostly fuck them."

Sarah had been on her earphone with her company, while trying to avoid the conversation. "Sir," she said to you, as she walked up, with a hint of fear in her voice. "What is it, whore?!" shouted Wesley, but you quieted him down, and nodded at Sarah to continue. "Um, on behalf of Eden Apple Escorts, we'd like to refund the $1000 you paid for our evening together, and they'd also like to bequeath me to you for... whatever you desire."

You weren't sure if that was necessary. You wondered if you could just take any prisoner you want for your own... collection, for example, without any say from the Bureau of Prisons or the private companies that contract with them. But it seems your well-paid evening with Sarah culminated in her being your permanent sex ****. But wait, you couldn't afford that.

"I-is the government paying me for this?" you asked Wesley.

"It's all here in plain English," he said - yeah, right - before continuing. "As a Deputy for the Government, you're entitled to a portion of all proceeds confiscated by prisoners upon convicted. Statutorily, it's about 20% while the government takes in about 75 and the rest is divided between private contractors and other prisoner auditing services. We're still working out the pertinent financials, but we estimate your current net worth to be about $40 Billion, all in an escrow account managed by the Federal Reserve and your banks of choice. Since this is an involuntary, lifetime position, you really have **** in the matter, we felt it necessary to compensate you fairly."

"But, I can do what I want?"

"Within reason, to duly convicted or indicted prisoners, yes. The President and Congress may, from time-to-time, ask you to punish a certain prisoner in a certain manner, but the decision is ultimately up to you. The Supreme Court has really stifled the earlier lax rules regarding sexual ****, but they don't apply to you. Do you have some coffee or something?"

You nodded to Sarah, "Fetch him some to drink," your first order to your first ****, as she nodded back. "I'm going to get dressed," you said to Wesley, as he nodded as well, following Sarah out the door and closing it finally.

Several minutes later, you leave your room and spy Wesley at the kitchen counter as he is swiping his tablet, reading the news of the day and probably coverage of your own position. He has an odd look on his face as he engages in an earphone call with one of his superiors. "Yeah. Okay. Go on." You mouth him a question, Where's Sarah?, as he simply points down to his lap. To your disbelief, you circle around the corner and find her naked, in the middle of giving him a blowjob. You watch her for a second and back off, as Wesley continues his phone conversation, cup of coffee, news reading, and blowjob receiving. A real multi-tasking professional.

After you witness him orgasm into her mouth, judging by his facial reactions, you quiet your mind. "I hope you don't mind I used your whore."

"What gives you the right?" you have some venom in your voice, suddenly realizing how possessive over her you've become. She was your first, and this feels like a betrayal, albeit it isn't her fault.

"Woah, buddy. She's a prisoner. Oral sex is fair game, plus I have her file. She's infertile, so she's fuckable. But, I get it. You're possessive. You don't want to share your whores. Whatever." He turned his attention to Sarah, who was standing up with a dour look on her face. "Get yourself dressed, slut."

Perhaps incensed by your own attitude, Wesley sets down his coffee unfinished and physically pushes past Sarah as she redresses herself. He finds his briefcase and hat and heads to the door.

"Wait, what do I do now?" you ask.

"I expect you do your job, Mr. Deputy. You can keep your whore and the BOP has agents surrounding the building, so just go to one of them for any requests or questions. Or visit any prison or jail in the country and inflict punishment on any prisoner in any manner. We'll be in touch."