It was another scorching hot day on the chain gang. The sun burned bright overhead, even in the early morning, as I brought my pickaxe once more down on a rock that stubbornly refused to break. Beads of sweat ran down my brow onto my chest, the area between my breasts gleaming with moisture and mixed with dust as I struck another blow.
There were six of us shackled together that morning. Six convicts, each with five years or more left in our sentence of hard labor. Six young women, dressed in an identical uniform of a white tank top, orange Soffe shorts, and work boots, shackled together at the legs to keep us in a straight line of service. The black text printed on my ass matched the heavy metal collar I wore:
INMATE
78-43021
Watching over us was a single correctional officer, sitting under an umbrella in a lawn chair by the side of the dusty highway where we worked. His eyes stared lasciviously at each of our asses as we bent up and down, up and down. The switch and whip, used only sparingly, lay at his side.
The first car we had seen in over an hour drove past, a gleaming black Lexus with tinted windows that seemed to have better places to be. Then, unexpectedly, it stopped and reversed, backing up past us and parking next to our officer.
Even as curious as I was, I kept my attention focused on the sturdy red rock that I simply couldn’t shatter. A tall man seemed to have stepped out of the car and was having an amiable chat with the officer. I remembered, faintly, that there were certain punishments that civilians could mete out to prisoners like me, but they were increasingly rare in modern times.
Suddenly, I heard my name shouted: “78-43021!” As I had learned, and learned well, I dropped my axe and sunk to my knees at the sound of a shout from the guard. Staring off into the empty desert, rocks digging into my knees, I waited until I felt the familiar steel of handcuffs locking themselves around my wrists, my hands pulled firmly behind my back.
“Inmate,” said the officer, “listen closely. This man has purchased all of your convict holes for the next 30 minutes. Do as he says, whore, and you might avoid solitary…”
The five other prisoners worked away beside me as I waited. Then I felt a hand grab my collar, and hot breath in my ear.
“This is all I’m gonna say to you, fuck-meat. I’m gonna pull these little shorts down and I’m gonna fuck you like a dog, because that’s how you oughta be treated. You’re gonna take a load of my cum in your dirty pussy, and it’s gonna drip outta you all day while you slave away here. And when you’re in your cage again tonight, all you’ll be able to think about is your sore pussy and the hard cock you live to serve. Understand?”
My pussy, inexplicably, was dripping wet, and as he pushed my face into the dirt and slid my shorts down to my knees, teasing the entrance to my cunt with his cock, I quietly said “yes, sir.”
For the first time, but not for the last time, I was fucked in place, chained to my five fellow prisoners, humiliated but deeply aroused to be put in my place in full view of the world.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5befgj/chain_gang_mfbdsmfantasyfsubnc