33. Week 8 Part 7

I. Week 8
Written By Laristopa .

This month, ‘Role of a Lifetime’ will be posted every 10 days on the 7th, 17th, and 27th, with ‘Into the Dungeon’ in between. And in this chapter, we may see many familiar faces from somewhere not so far away. Let us know what you think about this crossover. :)

The journey to the jail was quick, especially for Candy, whose mind was racing. There was a long line of police cars leading to an open bay door and an enclosed garage-like structure. Candy and Kevin sat in silence and watched as other vehicles entered the bay one by one and arrestees exited and walked with their police escorts up a short staircase and through a secure door on the far wall. The officer would then return alone and drive away.

Nearly every arrestee was a scantily clad woman flaunting her sexuality and begging for attention. They were prostitutes, and Candy knew she would fit right in when it was her turn to walk. A line formed behind Kevin’s cruiser while they waited, so she knew they would have an audience. The women must have gotten caught in some sort of large-scale prostitution sting, just like Candy had. Perhaps other women waiting in line would see her and think the same thing.

When it was finally their turn, Kevin parked in the sally port and opened Candy’s door before removing her seat belt. He reached towards her top, presumably to try and fix her boob tube, but stopped short and decided against it. It seemed that Candy’s dignity didn’t trump Kevin’s misgivings about touching intimate parts, so he opted to leave her hanging out. Once on her leopard-print, heeled feet, Candy turned to look down the line of waiting cars. She knew everybody saw her as another working girl.

It wasn’t as if she could convince a passing officer that she had been wrongfully arrested or that she was actually the police officer and Kevin was the prostitute. Standing next to her, Kevin was a tall, confident man in an official uniform holding the arm of an arrestee while Candy was a tiny, frightened teenage girl dressed like a hooker being escorted in handcuffs. Masculine Chris Evans would have had an argument, but girly-girl Candy? Not so much.

Kevin pointed up the staircase, which Candy slowly ascended, keenly aware that, up high, even more eyes could see her. Kevin trailed behind, keeping one stair between them. Candy’s heavy, exposed breasts and wide lower body bounced with each step, and she knew that if Kevin allowed more distance, he’d be able to see directly up her crusty skirt. Surprisingly, he never tried, and the short staircase led to a secure, metal door. Was Kevin actually...respectful of her body? Or was he simply afraid of it? Maybe he was catching glimpses when Candy wasn’t looking?

Regardless of his reasoning, Kevin kept his attention professional and stood with Candy before the metal door. The sound of an electronic lock disengaging *clicked,* and Kevin pulled the door open, revealing a long hallway ending at a desk. The floor consisted of shiny white tile, the walls were gray concrete, and everything was lit with a series of fluorescent lights. Kevin glared at Candy expectantly, and she gingerly stepped through the threshold.

To the right of the hallway were two gigantic walls of safety glass. The first wall led to a large room filled with rows of gray plastic chairs that were affixed to a metal frame. A loose collection of men wearing orange jumpsuits were sporadically seated in the chairs, shackled with handcuffs to the frame. There were around twenty or thirty in total. A solid wall separated the first room from the second, but at her current angle, Candy couldn’t see what the second room contained.

Several male arrestees turned in their seats or craned their necks to see the latest whore in a long line of whores. Their attention seemed routine, as if they’d been sitting and judging women like Candy making the walk past their holding pod all day. Candy, however, was different because her upper body was exposed. Her exposure was reflected on the faces of the men who stared at her with wide, lustful eyes. Their attention soon turned to vulgar commentary, and it was only a matter of moments before every male prisoner was fixated on her.

Among hooting, hollering, and wolf whistling, Candy heard some suggestive words shouted as she sashayed down the hallway.

“Damn! That fuckin’ ho’ is SHOWIN’ OFF!”

“Shake them titties, ho!”

“Damn!”

“Who yo’ daddy, ho?”

“Ah, damn, I NEEDS me a slut like that!”

“HOLY FUCK, she fine as hell!”

“Bend over, baby!”

“Which corner you workin’, ho?”

Kevin ignored their commentary and walked slightly behind Candy, who smirked and added a little extra sensuality to her gait and sway in her chest. The male attention felt AMAZING! A small flare of horny energy blazed through her veins, and a dirty impulse flashed in her mind.

Without further consideration beyond ‘this will REALLY get their attention,’ Candy acted on her impulse. Before Kevin could stop her, she turned away from the glass and used her handcuffed hands to lift her skirt. She bent her knees and leaned forward while executing a series of deep twerks. Her ass cheeks clapped in front of her presented holes before Kevin forced her to turn forward and ordered, “Stop that!”

Candy giggled and basked in the explosion of horny male feedback the prisoners showered on her. She didn’t even know how to twerk, but it felt like her body had built-in muscle memory to do so—like it was made to show off. The small flare of arousal smoldered inside her body and stoked within continued commentary.

“Ima fuck dat pussy RAW!”

“You hear dat ass clappin’?”

“Oh lawd!”

“Fuck the police, let dat ho show off!”

“She fuckin’ advertisin’ them holes!”

“Total goddamn slut!”

“I’m hard as hell!”

“What is yo’ name, baby girl?”

Just before they passed the first pod, Candy turned her head and chirped towards dozens of staring prisoners with something she knew would get a reaction: “I’m Candy, and I LOVE big black dicks!”

Another explosion of feedback warmed her loins and stretched a yellow smile across her face as she and Kevin approached the second room. Through the second wall of glass was another large area with gray chairs attached to metal frames. This room was filled with even more prisoners, but they were all women. Many of them were wearing green jumpsuits. 

Candy didn’t receive the same warm welcome with the women as with the men, but she didn’t really care. Female attention just didn’t stoke Candy’s addiction like male attention did. To the other whores, Candy was just another working girl ready to occupy a green jumpsuit and a gray chair.

She glanced through the safety glass and scanned the rows of women, attempting to locate Sapphire. Unfortunately, there were too many whores for her to parse through during the short walk.

They approached a wooden desk where an older, stockier, balder officer sat behind a computer.

His eyes lifted and fixated on Candy. She immediately shifted uncomfortably beneath his stare because something about the officer was undeniably creepy. Unlike Kevin, this older officer had no professional bearing, and his gaze was instantly buried in her tits.

The older officer’s mustache curled around a toothy smile before he guffawed and spoke to Kevin without removing his lecherous stare from Candy’s body, “Well, well, well, what have you brought me today? A fresh, young beauty caught being naughty?”

Kevin sighed and nodded. His voice was annoyed, “Jesus Christ, Sarge, you can’t talk about arrestees like that. She’s just like all the others, okay?”

Sarge jumped up from his chair and adjusted his Sam Browne belt around his tactical girth before stepping around the desk. He pointed to Candy’s chest and shrugged, “I’m going to have to fix her top; can’t have her walking around indecently.”

Kevin pulled Candy’s arms back and quickly removed her pink handcuffs. He spat, “She can do it herself. Go on, Candace.”

Sarge stopped and watched on, disappointed, as Candy squished her breasts back beneath the boob tube. Her extra-long, pink acrylics caused a little trouble, but she still managed it. Normally, she would have felt elated to have a man fondle her, but something about Sarge was different—something about him was dirty—dirty in a bad way.

Sarge grumbled and got back behind his desk. The office chair creaked beneath his weight. He spoke dismissively to Kevin while shooing him away, “That’ll be all then, Deputy Adams. Have a good night, sir.”

Kevin shook his head and turned back towards the sally port door. He muttered, “You too, Sarge.”

Left alone, Candy stood shyly and defensively crossed her arms beneath her chest. Sarge’s stare pierced through her, and she felt exceptionally vulnerable. She wished Kevin would come back!

“Have a seat, my dear, and tell me your full name.”

Seeing no other option, Candy turned and prepared to plop onto the chair, but Sarge cut her off with a tut and patted his knee, “Right here, young lady, so I can get to know you better.”

Candy nervously scanned Sarge’s smug expression, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Surely he wasn’t serious! His lust-filled eyes displayed years of complacency, and she didn’t detect anything in his expression besides perverted sincerity. Trapped as a young, tiny, female prisoner in a secure prison, Candy knew she had to do what the experienced, bulky, male officer demanded. She carefully sauntered over to Sarge’s leg, feeling her bare tits lightly jiggling on her chest, and sat down. She folded her delicate hands in her lap. Her skirt failed to cover her thighs, which rubbed against the scratchy material of his uniform pants, while her bare vagina was mere inches from touching him directly. Candy pressed her legs together tightly while answering his question with the name she saw on Kevin’s computer, “Candace Ryleigh Valentine.”

Sarge clicked on his keyboard before stiffening his voice. “Be respectful, Miss Valentine, and refer to me as ‘Sir’ when you address me, got it?” His tone quickly softened again. “And how old are you, Miss Valentine?”

Candy timidly curled her dirty blonde hair behind her ears and answered, “Um. I’m eighteen, sir.”

Sarge licked his lips hungrily while feeding the computer. The tent in his uniform pants was beyond obvious and nearly pressed into her thigh. Candy tried to ignore his erection, but it became impossible when Sarge suddenly slid her up his leg and directly against it. His manhood throbbed and strained into Candy’s supple thighs. 

His voice was quieter and more intimate as he asked, “What’s your bra size, Miss Valentine?”

Candy squirmed in his lap, feeling her moist, creampied pussy gently rubbing the bottom of her stained skirt and his uniform pants. He must have felt her lower lip sliding across his leg as his smug smile widened. 

“Um, I think I’m totally, like, a DD cup? Maybe bigger?” Candy guessed. 

With her answer, Sarge looked down, directly into Candy’s exposed breasts, with a grin. 

“Definitely bigger.” He slowly stated. 

When he was done typing, Sarge nodded towards the wall where a large, white rectangle was painted on the gray concrete. A height scale was affixed to the side of the rectangle.

“Go ahead and stand in front of the rectangle for your mugshot, darling. How tall are your heels?”

Candy stood and swayed to the rectangle on the wall while Sarge’s eyes followed her. She had no doubt he’d gotten a full view of her vagina as she stood with her skirt still riding up. 

She answered quietly, “I think, um, sir, they’re, like, five inches or something?”

A black square on the ceiling opened to reveal a camera. Candy stood on her animal-print heels and waited, unsure if she should smile or pose. She heard the sound of a photograph snapping.

Sarge scoffed, “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, my dear? Just under 5'5 with the heels. Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt and call it five feet, huh?”

Sarge stood from his desk, holding a cell phone in a black case. He motioned for her to turn around. Candy gulped and reluctantly faced the wall. She knew she had no power to resist him or go against his wishes. Sarge approached while her brain reeled from the latest revelation. Five feet tall? She was tiny even for a woman! Maybe her ass-length hair wasn’t getting longer; she was just getting shorter!

Sarge spoke quietly in Candy’s ear, sending uncomfortable chills careening up her spine, “I have to take pictures of your tattoos, daddy’s girl. Do you have any besides the two I can see?”

Candy felt her heart rate spike from fear. She took a series of quick breaths and stammered weakly, “N-no, s-sir.”

Sarge grunted and whispered, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Still standing behind her, Sarge tore down Candy’s boob tube, causing her chest to flop out once again. When she attempted to cover them, Sarge snapped, “Don’t move unless I tell you to, girl! I’d hate to charge you with resisting, which is a felony.”

Candy inhaled sharply and shakily rested her hands at her sides. She heard the cell phone snap a photograph of her bare shoulder.

Sarge muttered, “Naughty, naughty little daddy’s girl…”

Without warning, he tugged her skirt down, and it pooled around her ankles, leaving her lower body naked. She could feel the hot breath on the back of her neck coming in quicker. The sound of another photograph.

He commanded, “Do a turn for me, daddy’s girl, so I can ensure you don’t have any more. Do it slowly; I’m not as...perceptive as I used to be.”

Candy felt her emotions beginning to rise as she slowly began to turn, virtually naked, beneath the villainous eye of Sarge. She thought she was beyond feeling violated, but this was something else entirely!

He drank in her curvy body,

and heavy tits.

Candy saw a completely different cell phone in his hand snapping photographs. This one had a ‘thin blue line’ design on its case. He ordered her to stop when she was facing him, and he snapped a full-body shot and a close-up pussy shot with his alternate cell phone. For her part, Candy kept her gaze on the ceiling and sniffled, attempting to stem the tears that were gathering. Her body didn’t feel like it was under her control; it felt like this old police officer OWNED her.

Sarge shuffled through his newly acquired gallery with a smirk. Candy shivered with her boob tube around her stomach and her crusty skirt around her ankles.

Satisfied with his photos, Sarge glanced up and pointed between Candy’s legs. “Now, I’ll need you to open your legs and—”

*click*

The electronic lock of a nearby door disengaged, and Sarge hurriedly reached down to lift Candy’s skirt and cover her crotch.

The door swung open, and an older, smaller officer stepped through the threshold.

The cell phone with the black cover was once again in Sarge’s hand. He cleared his throat and spoke professionally, “Miss Valentine, please cover your chest; I won’t ask you again. It’s inappropriate to purposefully expose yourself. Final warning.”

Sarge stomped back behind his desk and acknowledged the older man with a nod. Candy, once again, covered her chest with her boob tube as instructed before sitting back in the scratchy chair.

Sarge pointed to a small, enclosed black box taped to the edge of the desk with a cable connecting it to the computer. The older man stood wordlessly off to the side as Sarge explained professionally, “This is a fingerprint scanner, Miss Valentine. I’m going to have you put each finger in one at a time.”

Candy started with her pinkie, but the long acrylic didn’t fit properly in the box. She tried a few times before turning her sparkling, green eyes towards Sarge for guidance.

Sarge groaned and complained to the older man, “This is what I was telling you about, LT. We need a scanner that isn’t a box. Most prostitutes have these ridiculous nails that don’t fit. I mean, look at this whore’s hand, LT. How am I supposed to scan her properly?”

The lieutenant looked down at Candy’s fragile hand with middling interest before nodding curtly and answering with a sigh, “Just do what you can, Sergeant Baxter. I trust your extensive experience will see you through.” He then cleared his throat and spoke in a lower, quieter tone, “I’m here to chat about what we discussed earlier.”

Sergeant Baxter pointed to the glass wall and muttered, “Yep. Found one that fits your...order. Came in a few minutes ago.”

The lieutenant grew an ecstatic grin and turned to follow the sergeant's finger. Candy had long since stopped struggling with the box and simply shrank into her chair. Whatever these guys were talking about...she didn’t want to be part of it.

A light *click* from a disengaging lock sounded from the metal door down the hallway and drew the attention of both men. It seemed they were about to have some company because the next officer in line was bringing in their catch. A frumpy, older female officer stomped next to a carefree, tall, mature woman with a plunging gold top, a short skirt, black heels, and no handcuffs.

Candy turned to watch the women as they approached the desk. The mature arrestee sensually rocked her hips and gracefully navigated the floor. An aura of poise and confidence followed behind her. She received a lukewarm reception—at best—from the men and no reaction from the women. Candy felt a perverse sense of pride that she herself had caused such an uproar while this woman did not.

While she was distracted, Sergeant Baxter secured a white band around Candy’s wrist.

She pulled her hand back and examined it.

TWIN TOWERS CORRECTIONAL FACILITY

NAME: VALENTINE, CANDACE RYLEIGH

SEX: F

AGE: 18

Sergeant Baxter spoke, “We’ll just agree to skip the fingerprints for today, young lady. The important thing is I got you in our system as a known prostitute. Any officer that runs your name will know you’ve been caught selling your body for cash.” He chuckled and added, “You know, I’ve been doing this a long time, and something tells me I’ll be seeing you again real soon, Miss Valentine.”

Candy stared at her wrist anxiously. She was in the system! Her pock-marked face and her temporary tattoos—they were listed under Candace Ryleigh Valentine, a known hooker!

The lieutenant broke from his excited stare to speak to Sergeant Baxter slowly, “Did you say ‘Valentine’? She’s already been bailed out. You don’t have to worry about changing this one out, Sarge. Let’s clear her out quickly.”

Sergeant Baxter’s pudgy shoulders drooped, and he sighed, “Oh well, no fun for me…this time. I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting, Daddy’s little girl.” He let his words marinate in the air for a few seconds before pointing at the door behind him, “Head through that door and follow the arrows to the parking lot.”

Candy squirmed before standing from her chair. She shuffled towards the metal door, feeling both sets of eyes following her. She heard a metallic *click,* and the door swung open. A concrete hallway without doors or windows leads to a corner. She tugged nervously at her new wristband and crossed the threshold; anywhere was better than her! The door closed slowly, and she heard Sergeant Baxter’s voice for the last time, “Ah, Mildred, my dear. To what do I owe the plea—” The door cut him off, and Candy was left in silence.

She navigated the corridor uneasily, feeling a damp, cold chill permeating every inch of exposed skin. This place felt like a dungeon! Taking a few shaky steps, Candy’s mind raced. Had Daddy bailed her out? Had he already gotten Sapphire? Perhaps they were waiting in the parking lot to take Candy home! She dreamed of her cozy little shower and would have given anything to be teleported there.

A camera on the ceiling gently blinked and watched Candy’s every move as she turned the corner and ran into another secure, metal door. The electronic lock *clicked* as she approached. Candy used all her might to push the door open and felt an immediate rush of warm air and sunshine. She tottered onto the sidewalk, and the door snapped shut behind her. The *click* of the lock re-engaging sounded, and Candy was left standing alone on the concrete.

She apprehensively scanned around while her eyes adjusted to the sun, hoping to spot Daddy’s maroon car. The parking lot before her was mostly deserted, though there were a few occupied vehicles. She met the eyes of the people occupying the cars and saw their thinly veiled disappointment. It seemed she wasn’t the only inmate to be released. Her gaze rested on a busted-up, red Ford Windstar that looked about two decades past its prime.

The middle-aged brunette that was driving it gave Candy a wave, and the vehicle began to approach. Candy wasn’t in the mood for this! If this woman was trying to buy or sell something, she wasn’t interested! She just wanted to go home!

The Windstar parked in front of the sidewalk, and the window rolled down. The older brunette stared at Candy with an expression that could only belong to one woman. Candy’s eyes narrowed as she realized who it was.

“M-Mom?” Candy asked incredulously, “What, like, happened to your car?”

Miss Linda Valentine’s hair was ratty, her black shirt looked worn and dirty, and her makeup appeared to be low quality. Her wrinkled face darkened with disappointment as her haggard eyes examined her hooker daughter. She sternly ordered, “Get in the van, Candy. I don’t have time for your crazy, druggy ramblings!”

Candy swallowed hard. Where was her mother’s Escalade? Why was she driving a gigantic piece of shit? Why did she look so...poor?

What the hell was going on!?

Laristopa .
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34. Week 8 Part 8
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