to jail, of course!

"Where do you think we are going? To jail, of course!" one of them said. Sandra fell back into her seat, her chest tight with anxiety.

"So, all of that..." she said before one of them cut her off.

"Never happened. Who would believe a druggie whore like you? Jesus Christ! You better hope your father, if he is still alive, never finds out what a dirty slut you are! Shit, it'd probably give him a heart attack!" the one who was fucking her ass said.

"You kiddin' Greg? Daddy probably gave it to her more than he gave it to her Mom." the driver said with a chuckle. Sandra hung her head. They weren't exactly right. Her father never did anything to her, but she remembered "helping Daddy" make business deals with the Japanese when she was only 18...

Suddenly, the van came to a stop. She was outside a jail, no doubt, but not one anywhere near her neighborhood. She could hear gunfire in the streets. Whores openly sold themselves not two blocks from the precinct.

She was roughly pushed through the doors, passed the desk, and back into the cells. The old man at the desk looked like a comic book version of a Russian interogator with cold, unfeeling eyes and stark white hair. She was pushed not into a private cell, but into the drunk tank. She turned, and saw eight men look up at her.

"Stay with the other druggies while we process you, bitch!" the one who had cum on her face said, ans slammed the door. Sandra turned, crossing her arms over her chest, and winced at the hard, wrinkled, scarred, and lustful faces that surrounded her...