Amanda Masturbates While Watching Cell 1

Amanda stared at the screen for cell one. She stroked herself thinking about the people detained there sexually.

She relished a water bottle strumming across her clit, before grinding contour by contour into her tight pussy.

Her growing sexual frustration and desires were being pooled by the corruption tainting her. As the pool grew it over flowed into those who used the water bottles it had previously infused with these energies, linking them into a growing reservoir, which they too fed as their own desires were stirred up. This allowed the Idol to preserve its own corrupting energies, using their own soul's desires to get them lusting for anything.

Annie wasn't a stupid girl. That was the source of her problems. Or so she figured, you know, ignorance is bliss. She started performing when 16, she loved the attention it got her flashing boys, stripteases, lap dances. It quickly lead to her eventually getting offered money to fuck around. Money she didn't mind. It supported the various substances she relished for altering her state of mind, and with it derailing trains of thought she often felt were better not thought about.

Sex was a basic living need. She had a genetic advantage and privilege which she used to provide for a better social standing. Her real passion in life was people watching. Observing body language, behaviour, trying to extrapolate facts based on the most minute details.

That and use her growing ability to read people to keep herself usually one step ahead. She always got paid, rarely had to walk a block, and managed to keep her habits manageable. She didn't have many friends, but then again those she had often called her emotionless or heartless.

It was her people watching that was bothering her right now. Things were adding up.

The older woman in the fishnet top, The Matriarch as Annie termed her mentally. A stripper or hooker exiting her prime. Likely trying to struggle to keep her finances going having spent too many years partying it up and working the pole or a corner and not enough prepping for that inevitable time when the crowd asks you take a bow and leave the stage or street for good. She still had a good body though, likely could tour the MILF circuit in porn. Or so Annie was figuring. She was in no rush, she likely knew this routine all too well.

Schoolgirl, she was antsy. She paced back and forth, likely because she was supposed to be somewhere else. Annie figured the girl had a pimp, someone who wasn't coming to help get her out. But in turn would be upset she hadn't been doing her job.

Annie emptied her bottle. The Matriarch hadn't even bothered complaining when she didn't get one. She was laid back on one of the few bunks in the cell doing who knows what mentally to alleviate her boredom.

The guard. She didn't add up. When she came in Annie could've sworn she had pants on. But it was clearly a skirt when she came around handing out water bottles. Barely a skirt for someone working as a professional. Well a professional outside an adult pleasure industry, unless you're waitstaff that is. She also seemed to conceal herself more than usual. Usually the officers sat rather upright, glancing from the screen to the cells regularly. Once or twice the few times Annie had been detained they even struck up idle chatter to alleviate the monotony of just sitting there watching.

The Schoolgirl crossed Annie's line of sight at the desk drawing them away from their current wonder, she idly turned to make another lap of her pacing Annie couldn't help but wonder how many people had moved one of those straps from her breasts to play with her nipples. Annie had to wonder if she was cold by how clearly they protruded through their concealment.

She debated walking over and pinching one, offering to warm her up. Annie paused for a moment, that was a foreign thought to her. She had no prior inclination to women. Hell she'd lost a fortune declining couples looking for a third. Still, could see how far it got before the guard broke them up.

Annie shook her head looking down to the floor rubbing her hands on her face. I must be too tired, she thought.

Crystal, or at least that's what she went by on the street, crushed her empty water bottle in frustration. She had been here since getting picked up after what would otherwise be considered a "walk of shame". It was stupid of her to not pay attention to the cop car at the curb when she offered to suck a guy off at a street meat cart. At the time she figured it was worth it to try getting one more fuck in before sunrise.

Now she'd spent most of the day here.

Mmm... A fuck. Crystal didn't know why she was suddenly feeling horny. 90% of the time she didn't even feel any sexual attraction, it was all so mundane to her. But for some reason she felt hornier than... Well she could ever recall.

She'd solicit the chick cop if she thought it would get her anywhere. She surreptitiously felt herself up. She started to wonder if the wait wasn't the part that was going to drive her crazy here. She grabbed the bars and looked over her shoulder, the girl in the white bikini top was looking her way. Raising an eyebrow towards her Crystal saw she had their attention. Slowly, deliberately, alluringly, she reached her tongue out between her red lips, and slowly slithered it along one of the bars.

Turning around she glanced over her shoulder as she heard a moan that just aroused her more, she wondered why the guard uttered it.

The pool of lust and desire continued feeding empathetically between the inmates and their keeper, it fed off them, and in turn fed more sexual frustrations into each of them, repeating the cycle of generating sexual energy to fuel the Idol and empower it in its impending attempt to corrupt them.

Amanda masturbated vigorously in response to her stray lurid thoughts seeming to manifest and grow in cell 1.

Amanda moaned audibly once more in relief as she came, the corrupt uniform clenched to her, feeding off her sexual energies and driving her forward into more lurid thoughts and actions. Amanda could swear she felt hands grabbing her ass, massaging her breasts, and whispers. The whispers seemed to grow louder the more Amanda pushed herself onwards masturbating.

She could feel the whispers, the desires, pushing the lusts forward in the pool. Amanda controlled the flow of the sexual frustration as it flowed out.

She soon leaned forward onto the table gasping in pleasure as the bottle seemed to not be enough. She wanted it to be more.

She gazed up at her monitor, looking towards the screen driven forward by her desires.