Let Pixie relieve some 'pressure'.

You moan needily and whimper, "Okay, but please don't tell anyone. And hurry up." No sooner do the words stumble off your supple lips than Pixie is in your lap, biting the band or your pants and peeling them off your pulsing prick. Before you can say 'thank you kindly', the pink haired punk has her plump, pierced lips around your suffering, swollen shaft and her soft, studded tongue is swirling around your cock head.

She wastes no time with romance and slides down your cock until she has swallowed your entire cock and is milking you with her throat. She is making the sexiest little grunts and gurgles, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say she was enjoying this more than you. You wonder how sucking a sweaty cock could possibly get her so worked up, and you feel a curious tickle in the back of your throat that you try to ignore entirely. Instead you focus on the imminent eruption of your engorged erection.

Any...second...now..."What in the Holy Fuck do you sissies think you're doing?! You know better than to do that out where everyone can see you!" The grumbly guard pulls Pixie off your prick right before you get some relief, leaving you aching, ashamed, and anguishingly aroused. He grabs your arm and you yelp helplessly as he drags you down the hall. "No point in getting you checked out now. Anyone can see you both got a case of acute Bimbug Nimphitis. Stupid sissies can't even wait a few minutes to start sucking each others clits."

You try to plead your case, but he is yanking you so hard that all that comes out is pathetic whimpers and yelps. Your cock leaving behind a tale tell trail of precum certainly doesn't help your case. You decide to keep your mouth shut for the time being and hope he takes pity on you. After all, it's your first day as a bimboi and you don't know the first thing about your body's unnatural urges or what passes for acceptable amongst criminal cuties.

After what seems like miles of the same corridors and cells full of pent up penetentiary residents describing in graphic, sometimes gory detail about what they want to do to you, you arrive scared and stiff at a dark hallway lined with windowless steel doors. "Here's your new home for the next thirty days. Maybe you can work your sick little urges out of your system by then."

He opens the door and pushes you into the darkness inside.