Wild Child Pt. 01

"Trial?"

"Well, most of the cases don't go that far. It's likely we'll cut a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Let's see what else they have. Then we can discuss what deals might be available."

"Will I be able to make bail?"

"That's unlikely. Given the charges and your prior offenses, you'll probably have bail set at $100,000. That's what the State asks for in this type of case, given your priors. That means you'd have to come up with $10,000 for a bail bondsman."

"I guess I'm going back to jail."

"That's what's going to happen. I'll see you in court."

The prisoners were gathered up and led to a bus in a single file line. Their wrists and ankles were shackled so they could manage only short steps. They shuffled one by one into the bus, until it was almost filled. The bus windows were covered with heavy gauge metal screens. As the bus idled, Brooke got on board, finding a seat near the back. The prisoner in that bench seat moved over to make room. She avoided eye contact with Brooke, so they made the 15 minute trip to the courthouse in silence.

They were herded into a room next to the courtroom. There were already a number of prisoners there, mostly from an overflow lock-up on the other side of town. They were sitting on long benches, waiting for their names to be called by the bailiff. As Brooke looked for an empty place to sit, she saw an all but too familiar face -- Nicole. Brooke wedged in between Nicole and the woman sitting next to her. The woman gave Brooke a scowl, and reluctantly moved over to make room.

"Nicole. I thought you got away," she whispered.

"I did. I got busted yesterday for possession with the intent to distribute."

Brooke grabbed Nicole's arm, chains rattling, and turned it so she could see the inside of the elbow. There were fresh needle tracks evident.

"I fucking hate you," Brooke said to her former best friend.

Nicole knew she lied when she told Brooke she was clean. But a longtime addict has no sense of shame.

"I'm sorry."

Even the apology was half-hearted.

"Fuck you," Brooke spit out, getting up and moving to the other side of the crowded room.

Nicole had already forgotten her run in with her friend. Her hands were starting to shake ... and she was sweating.

Brooke's stomach was churning inside. Of all the fucking people to run into, Nicole. That bitch used me, she thought. Used me and forgot me. I couldn't believe I thought she was my friend, someone I could trust. Instead, she got me back in jail.

As Brooke was working herself up into a frenzy, her name was called. A rush of adrenaline went through her. Wide-eyed, she followed the bailiff into a crowded courtroom. The room was much brighter, so Brooke squinted. There were two inmates in front of her so she was hoping she would be able to watch for a while before she had to appear. She looked up at the wall clock. The white-faced clock said 10:15. She had been sitting on her ass for over an hour.

" ... so he should be taken into custody," the Judge pronounced, the bailiff tugging the prisoner away by his cuffs.

"Next case?"

"State versus Ashworth," the court clerk said in a voice that could be heard in the last row. "Brooke Ashworth ... Ashworth. Are you here?

Brooke stood up. All eyes in the court went on her. It was not a good feeling. She shuffled her feet to the defendant's table. Her attorney jostled past several people in her row, smoothed her skirt, and took her seat next to Brooke.

"Appearances?"

"Karla Thoresen, counsel for Defendant Brooke Ashworth," she said in a clear and steady voice.

The prosecuting attorney was furiously writing on his pad and waved his hand at the judge -- the Honorable Pamela Harris.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Stanton," said Judge Harris, briskly and dismissively. "You're appearing on behalf of the State.

The State presented affidavits supporting the allegation that Brooke had trespassed on private property with intent to steal. There were four affidavits from partygoers who witnessed Brooke being unmasked by David Heppner, including one from David. There was no mention of Nicole in the papers.

"How do you plead?" asked the judge.

"Not guilty," Brooke answered, not displaying any confidence.

That should have been the end of that portion of the proceeding. The judge tipped forward in her chair.

"You, Ms. Ashworth," she said. "Come here." She crooked her finger and pointed to herself as she spoke. Both lawyers started to rise from their chairs.

"Not you," barked the judge. Both lawyers sat down.

The judge leaned forward and used one hand to cover the microphone.

"Tell me, young lady. How does a beautiful young woman get in this kind of trouble?"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno ... your Honor."

"Ms. Ashworth. Answer me."

"Judge, I ... I think I have a problem with authority."

"Yes you do. Now are you going to be a good girl for me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you going to be a good girl? For me?"

Brooke was puzzled by the question, but played along. "Yeah ... yeah, I'm going to be a good girl."

"Splendid. Now go back and sit down."

Brooke went back to counsel's table and sat down. Karla tapped on her shoulder, wanting an immediate download.

"She asked me if I was going to be a good girl," Brooke whispered.

"She did? That's good."

"What do you mean?"

"She asks that of defendants that she thinks are ... um ... attractive."

"No shit."

"No, really. She was probably fingering herself under her robe when she was talking to you."

"Counsel, would you be so kind as to join the rest of us?"

Karla looked up. The judge was staring at her. "Sorry, your Honor, I was conferring with my client."

"I'm busy, and it's wasting my time to watch the two of you talk," the judge said, admonishing Brooke's attorney. "Given priors the State is recommending $100,000 bail. What sayeth you counsel?"

Karla stood up and straightened her suit jacket. "We believe our client has strong ties to the community. She was born and raised here. All of her relatives are here. We do not believe she is a flight risk."

"Does the defendant have someplace to stay if she gets out on bail?"

"Yes, your Honor. I've spoken with the defendant's aunt, a Marjorie Taylor. She's prepared to have the defendant live with her if she can raise the money for the bond."

The judge thought for a moment. "Given's counsel representation about the defendant's ties to the community, I'm going to set bail at $50,000. Bailiff. Next case?"

Brooke grabbed Karla by the arm and pulled her to the side, making way for the next case.

"You talked to my aunt?"

"I knew it was the only way to get your bail down."

"But you didn't ask me."

"I didn't have time. If you remember, I didn't meet you until this morning."

"Yeah, that's true. So exactly what did they say?"

"She said that she is going to give you one more chance ... if you want it."

Karla didn't know that Brooke wouldn't borrow a dime or stay with her aunt if her life depended on it. Brooke was quite young at the time, but had vague recollections that she was inappropriately touched by her only aunt. Brooke would rather be thrown in a cauldron of fire than live with Aunt Marjorie.

"The answer is no." It sounded and was final.

"I guess it's back to jail for you ... at least until I can get you out."

"Fucking Nicole," Brooke muttered under her breath. "I hope that bitch gets her due." She was taken back on the same bus to County. Rina was waiting for her in the common area.

"We see Queenie now."

"Do you know why?

"She not tell. I not ask."

They shuffled through spirited card games and tarot readings in the common area and then up a walkway on the side opposite to Rina and Brooke's cell. As they passed the row of cells, the inmates who were still in them said nothing, not even attempting to make eye contact.

"They now know you Queenie's girl. They no want trouble."

They walked to a wing that contained only four cells. There was a single walkway as access, and Queenie's bodyguards were posted at the entrance to the wing. It was the most secure place in the prison, including the warden's office. The smaller Asian woman squinted as Brooke approached, making the young blonde wonder if she was going to get beat up instead of meeting with Queenie. There were no guarantees in prison, and Brooke was now trusting her life to the most powerful person in it.

The burly woman's expression changed to a smile, and she stepped aside to allow Brooke into the corridor. Brooke noticed that the first two cells belonged to the bodyguards and the last two were Queenie's. A passage was cut between the two cells, making the Queen Bee's accommodations effectively a suite.

Brooke felt like her heart was pounding in her throat when they entered Queenie's cell. Rina left as soon as Brooke entered. Queenie was sitting regally in a wingback chair, sipping tea from a fine bone china cup. Her jet black hair glistened with hair product, and shimmered in the artificial light. It was the cocoa colored skin that Brooke remembered, but now it glowed. Her make-up and hair were done impeccably. She was wearing a finely embroidered bright red silk robe and red strapless heels. Her legs were crossed, showing Brooke the inside of her left thigh. Brooke had never seen such a finely dressed woman and such a pleasing expanse of bare skin.

"You caught me at a bad time before sugar." Queenie was referring to their first meeting when she was wearing prison clothes without any make-up. She gave her tea a quick stir and put the small spoon on a side table. She then looked up at Brooke. "Does Momma look good to you now?"

"Yes ... uh ..." Brooke stammered, as she was unsure how to address the Queen of the prison.

"You can call me Momma or Queenie, sugar. All my girls do."

"Yes Momma." Brooke chose Momma. She never really had one. Her biological mother was always working to support her daughters and then died prematurely. Brooke had never met anyone as beautiful and captivating a person as Queenie.

"That's a good girl. Now come closer so I can take a look at you." She beckoned with a finger.

Brooke took two tentative steps forward, close enough so Queenie's knees were almost touching her legs.

Still sitting, Queenie narrowed her eyes and leaned forward and held her hand up to unzip Brooke's coveralls. They both listened to the sound of the zipper going down. Queenie touched her silky smooth skin, tracing her finger across the flatness of her muscular abs and the curve of her youthful breasts.

"Work out child?"

"Yes, Momma. I try to every day."

Queenie was satisfied with the response. "I'll get Gloria to set you up for some alone time at the gym."

"Gloria, Momma?"

Queenie chuckled. "Where are my manners? I should have introduced Gloria and Fung to you before."

"So Gloria is the African-American woman?"

Queenie scowled. "Why would you assume that?"

Brooke began to apologize. "I ... uh ..."

Queenie let out a hearty laugh. "I was jus' messing with you, child. Gloria is the taller African-American woman and Fung is the Asian woman. You were right, but don't make assumptions about people."

"Sorry, Momma."

"You're young, child. You have a lot to learn ... about life and about love."

"I want to learn," Brooke admitted.

Queenie hooked Brooke's coveralls with her finger and pulled the blonde closer. Brooke could smell Queenie's expensive perfume and the scent of her make-up. She started to tremble.

Queenie spoke with her lips inches from Brooke's uncovered breasts.

"Don't worry about anything sugar. Queenie's gonna teach you everything that I know."

Brooke instinctively dropped to her knees. Queenie's eyes narrowed and she drew Brooke to her. Brooke's head relaxed and lay in Queenie's cupped hand. Their lips met and the Queen Bee took her first taste of her new pet.

New delicious flavors swirled in the Domme's mouth as Brooke and Queenie shared their first kiss. Brooke had never been kissed like this before, man or woman, and melted into Queenie's embrace.

Queenie took a deep breath through her nose. "You're a beautiful woman Brooke. You're mine now," she said breathily.

"Yes Momma," Brooke answered without any doubt in her voice.

"Say it love."

Brooke enunciated each word carefully. "I belong to you Momma."

"You do indeed." Queenie let her robe fall open. Brooke saw Queenie's large, pendulous breasts, long dark brown nipples and just a small roll of fat in her midsection. She was hairless, and her pussy lips were like brownish oysters, some pink showing between. Brooke watched as Queenie started to finger herself.

"Now show me that beautiful body of yours," she directed, teasing her nub with a painted fingernail.

Brooke felt as if she was in a movie, watching it instead of being in it. She took her arms out of her coveralls and let them drop to the floor. She wasn't wearing a bra, so her smallish breasts hung free. Queenie wasn't concerned about their size, but was delighted to see that her pink nipples were long and already hard. She was also shaved. Rina told her that Queenie expected her pets to be shaved.

"You have lovely nipples pet."

"Thank you Momma."

"Now you look behind you. There's a small wooden box sitting on the side table."

Brooke turned around and saw an attractive dark walnut box. The wood top had a mother of pearl inlay in a double diamond pattern. She handed it to Queenie.

Queenie flipped open the top, and inside were two shiny chrome clamps sitting on a black velvet backing. Queenie picked up one of the finely machined instruments. Brooke had never seen a device such as that before, and wondered how Queenie was going to use it.

Queenie started rubbing her hand against Brooke's left breast, feeling the contours of it and then giving the hard nipple a flick with her finger. The sharp pain gave a jolt to Brooke, but her nipple became even harder. Queenie noticed right away.

The Domme unscrewed the clamp to fit it around Brooke's nipple.

"Now stay still. It's going to hurt at first." Brooke now realized what was going to happen and immediately wondered how much it was going to hurt. She didn't have to wait long, as Queenie started to screw it tight.

"Oh! Oohh ..." the young blonde gasped as the clamp bit into her nipple. The clamp had fine teeth in it, and the pressure was more than the friendly bites lovers had given her nipples. It hurt. She could feel the blood pulsing in her nipple.

Queenie gave it another turn, and Brooke let out another involuntary gasp as the pain was now causing a pounding in her ears. She stayed there kneeling, daring not to move, but feeling a hot white heat burning her body.

Queenie knew from experience that Brooke could take more, and turned the screw another quarter turn. Fine beads of sweat were popping out on Brooke's forehead. Queenie waited patiently for the sensation of pain to become a dull ache. An ache that needed to be relieved. Queenie smiled. Her new pet not only took the pain, but welcomed it.

Queenie reached into the box for the other clamp. She held it in front of Brooke's face so the sub's eyes were fixed on it.

"Do you want this pet?" the Queen Bee asked.

"Yes Momma."

"Yes Momma what?"

"Yes Momma, I want you to put the other clamp on my nipple."

"That's good pet." She used the tip of the middle finger on her free hand to skim between Brooke's legs, touching her wet, weeping gash, and making her thighs tremble.

Queenie smiled when she felt the sticky, clear honey. She brought her wet finger to her mouth to taste her pet again, from her other set of lips. She put the finger in her mouth and drew it out slowly.

"You taste sweet, my sweet," Queenie purred. "Now touch yourself while I put the other one on."

Brooke was already feeling the pain subside, replaced by a warm glow. Her skin started feeling prickly when Queenie screwed on the other clamp. Her finger swam in a pool of her own wetness.

"There you are. How are you feeling pet?"

Brooke didn't know what she was feeling. It hurt but felt good at the same time.

"Um ... good ... I think," she said, straining to speak through clenched teeth. She felt throbbing in tune with her heartbeat. Her clit felt like it was going to explode. She stopped touching herself. Queenie noticed that as well. There was little that escaped her practiced eye.

"Keep touching yourself pet."

Brooke resumed the lightest touch, and even that made her want to cum. If she was masturbating, this was the point of no return. It was new for her to stop herself; to use her strength of will to stop something so pleasurable. Her need rose to a level that made the muscles in her thighs tighten and her vaginal lips and anus vibrate and clench. It took every ounce of her will to forestall a cataclysmic orgasm.

"Please ... Mommy," Brooke pleaded for the first time. Rina told her that she'd be punished for an unpermitted orgasm, and she was sure she'd lose the battle.

"No pet ... patience," Queenie told her young charge. "This makes it better."

Brooke didn't want to believe the coca colored beauty. She was feeling anxious, not better.

Queenie knew it was time, and had already marked in her mental notebook that Brooke worshipped pain and orgasm denial. She unscrewed the first clip and then pinched it between two perfectly manicured fingernails. There were mini-explosions in the sub's nipple as the staunched blood rushed into it. Brooke teetered and looked as if she was going to fall backwards. Queenie caught Brooke's shoulder with her hand as she was about to topple over.

Queenie smile got bigger. Brooke's reaction was even more than she hoped for. "Now the other my sweet."

Brooke wasn't prepared for the second, and the release of the clamp made her gasp loudly when she felt the sensation of white hot heat in her nipples. She didn't realize she was still fingering herself while she panted like a winded runner.

"Cum, my pet," Queenie told her.

"Oh God ..." Brooke sobbed as she couldn't hold it anymore, and the sweet pleasure she felt was a rush of no equal in her life. Even Rina hadn't prepared her adequately for the fine-tuned ecstasy Queenie gave her. She knew precisely what buttons to push, and push them she did. Brooke's body heaved with each wave of pleasure. Then she felt as if she was tumbling. This time she lurched forward, and Queenie wasn't quick enough to catch her. Brooke's face went between Queenie's legs, and there was a swampy mess awaiting her.

Brooke came to her senses as she nuzzled the wet lips, seeping Queenie's own honey. Brooke lapped at it, and Queenie relented, parting her legs and letting her new sub have her fill. Queenie allowed herself to cum twice while Brooke was making love to her pussy. Just twice. There could have been so many more.

Brooke ... the wild child ... was insatiable.

* * *

To be continued ...