Hard but passionate

Alessa grabs your chin forcefully. "Hands out, prisoner. Time for your check."

Your lips tremble with fear and no small amount of arousal at the unusually aggressive edge to her voice. "Yes, ma'am."

You obediently hold out your hands, which are quickly cuffed together, the metal pressing against your wrists uncomfortably, but not painfully.

"Stand up," she orders, then strips off your pants and briefs, checking every inch of your skin for any hidden "contraband." "Straighten up and hold your arms out."

Her businesslike scowl remains in place throughout your "check," her full-body causing your manhood to stand erect and painfully hard.

She snorts. "See something you like, prisoner?"

Your lips twitch with a smirk. "Yes, ma'am," you admit.

"Oh?" Alessa stands up and looks you straight in the eye, her shoes giving her an inch or two on your naked form. "And what might that be? I'm not showing you much."

You gulp. "Well, your apparel isn't exactly hiding anything."

Her eyes narrow. "Be very careful what you say next."

Your heart hammers in your chest as you get into the fantasy. "What I mean is...you know how to dress. Though you probably shouldn't use that fashion sense in a prison full of horny men."

"Oh?" She abruptly grabs you by the balls, squeezing uncomfortably. "And tell me, why should I take the advice of a man who got himself locked up?"

You exhale a hissing breath. "Because...technically, you're locked in here with us."

Alessa arches an eyebrow and tightens her grip a little. "So, what you're saying is that because I'm in here with you, I have no control."

"No, Alessa, I--"

Her grip tightens a bit more. "That's Warden Carson to you, prisoner."

You groan half in pain, half in arousal. "Yes, Warden Carson."

"Better." She pushes you back-first onto the bed, standing over you with a smoky look in her eyes. "But I still think you have more to learn." Alessa starts to peel her jacket off, getting a better range of motion with her arms and revealing a white button-up top, the first five buttons quickly coming undone. "Specifically about who exactly has the control--" she punctuates the word with a firm grasp of your manhood, "--in this situation."