Behind Bars: Chapter Two: Lights Out

BEHIND BARS (ff, reluc, celeb, AU, prison)


AUTHOR: Zahir al-daoud (

FEEDBACK: Please! It is the only pay received for writing these. And
feel free to offer suggestions. Can’t promise I’ll use every one,
but I’ll at least consider them (barring certain practices that just
do nothing for me at all).

NOTES: This story is set in an alternate timeline, one wherein many
of the famous ladies in our world have led different lives, ending
up as either staff or inmates at a women’s prison.

DISCLAIMER: What follows is a piece of fiction. Legally,
one should
consider it a parody. No comment is made or implied about the
genuine lives or personalities of the celebrities described, nor
about their orientations or tastes. It is a fantasy, pure and
simple. Do not take it seriously, please. And no, I’ve no notion how
to contact any of these people in real life.

Famke Jansen as the Warden

Katie Holmes as her Secretary

Linda Park and Eliza Dushku as Correctional Officers

Jessica Alba, Majandra Delfino and Alecia Moore (aka “Pink”) are the
Pinks, an inmate gang

Mena Suvari, Teri Hatcher, Julilanne Moore, Brittany Murphy,
Michelle Rodriguez as new inmates

Agnes Bruckner, Liz Vassey and others are veteran inmates


Julianne Moore sat on her cot, waiting for nine o’clock and lights
out. The clock on the wall said another five minutes to wait, but it
seemed like that same clock had said ten minutes a couple of hours
ago. What more evidence that time had slowed, at least for her? And
what did that mean for the rest of her sentence? Would six years
seem more like sixty? Or six hundred? By that count how long had it
been since the strip search and orientation? A decade, most likely.

Brittany had been assigned the bed next to Julianne and was
gossiping away.

“Them–those are the ones I was telling you about.” She looked
pointedly at the far side of room. Julianne, to distract herself,
followed that gaze.

Sure enough several young women were clustered together, joking.
None looked more than twenty five. All looked fit, and a little
feral, with short hair and sneering mouths. They in fact looked like
what Brittany said they were–a gang.

“Pinks,” whispered Brittany, “is what they’re called. Must be new.
At least, they weren’t here before.”

Which made sense. They all looked so young. It hadn’t been hard to
notice them, moving together like an animal pack through the
excercise yard, eating together in the cafeteria. Hovering near them
was a brunette woman maybe ten years older. One of the Pinks, the
redhaired youngest-looking, stroked her hair much as one might pet a
cat. Julianne couldn’t decide if the look on the brunette’s face was
one of fear or guilt or pleasure. Maybe all three?

“I know her,” said Brittany, “the woman with the Pinks. Liz Vassey.”
Julianne found herself listening almost despite herself. “She’s
okay. Or she was. I don’t know–she’s different too.”

“When were you here before?” Julianne didn’t know why she asked.

“Two years ago.” Brittany kept staring at the Pinks. Apart from the
slender redhead, there was a bleached blond whose hair showed the
last remnants of pink dye at the tips. She looked the toughest of
the three, with a thicker waist and several tattoos. That mouth
looked like it laughed a lot, and not in a pleasant way. Rounding
off the group was an olive-skinned girl with an hour-glass figure.
All three had an air Julianne associated with certain animals she’d
seen in zoos. Lions. Hyenas. Wolves. In other words, predators.

Which made the older brunette–Liz Vassey–prey. Probably not the
only one.

“Don’t look,” whispered the blonde girl on the other side of her.
She looked barely nineteen, pale and pretty if not for the circles
under her eyes. She’d introduced herself earlier as Agnes Bruckner.
Brittany had been the one to chat with her, drawing out a tale of a
boyfriend who, driving drunk, killed someone and insisted Agnes tell
no one. Which had made her an accessory to murder. Even testifying
against her boyfriend hadn’t kept her out of prison, just
drastically reduced her sentence. Now she was staring at both
Julianne and Brittany. “Just don’t look at them.”

The two newcommers looked at each other, then followed Agnes’
advice. Instead, they looked at Agnes.

“How bad are they?” asked Brittany, voice low.

“Bad enough,” was the answer. Agnes gave a quick look around before
continuing in a still-lower voice. “One of the guards likes them.
Helps them do things. You don’t want them to notice you. Believe
me.” Something about the way she said it made Julianne believe her

“ROLL CALL!” Two guards entered the long dormitory cell. Another
waited outside the locked door. One was the guard Brittany called
Officer Park, the one who liked blondes. Brittany had said something
about her strip search going well, then winked. The other Julianne
hadn’t seen before–a slender young woman with dark hair who seemed
to be smiling for some reason. “All prisoners will present
themselves for roll call before lights out!” It was the younger
officer who was saying this. As she walked down the virtual corridor
between beds, her name tag was briefly visible. “E. Dushku” it read.

Julianne, like everyone else, stood at the foot of her bed–Brittany
to her left, Agnes to her right. As she waited, she saw something
that was looked bad. Mena, a few beds down and to her left, was
looking over to the corner where the Pinks were. Her expression was
horrified and fascinated both. But the one with bleached hair and
tattoos noticed–winked at her. Mena instantly looked away. The
tattooed girl smirked. Weirdly, just then her name was called.
Julianne was startled to realize they shared a last name. “Moore,
Alecia,” was the tattooed girl. The redhead was “Delfino, Majandra”
and the tall girl with the hourglass figure was “Alba, Jessica.”

Officer Park was going down this side of the beds. When she got to
“Murphy, Brittany,” the guard let a shadow of a smile cross her
lips. She even lingered for a moment, as Brittany smiled in the most
cocquettish way.

To the right, Julianne heard a tiny gasp of dismay. Agnes. She was
looking at this exchange between Brittany and Officer Park, her eyes
huge. When her own name was called out, and she replied without once
making eye contact with Park, she looked terrified. Over in the
corner the way all three Pinks were grinning at her gave a hint as
to why. Alecia Moore even blew her a kiss.

After roll call, everyone got into bed, and the lights were turned
out. Julianne had a hard time sleeping. For one thing, it felt early
still. Plus there were the not-quite-silent sobs coming from her
right. Agnes was upset, deeply so. It didn’t take much to figure out
the reason. Park liked blondes. Agnes was blonde, as was Brittany,
and it looked fairly clear that the latter had succeeded in finding
her protection–at the former’s expense. Fucked or raped. Those were
the rules. She repeated those words to herself. Fucked or raped.
That’s the choice. Yeah, keep saying it. Just keep saying that, to
drown out all sound or thought of the terrified girl next to you.
Fucked or raped. Which would you rather?

Assuming you get a choice, that is.

She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep. Impatient for it.


Renee allowed herself to be led up a short spiral staircase, going
from the Warden’s office to what was clearly a bedroom. At least the
double bed was one of only three pieces of furniture, and easily the
largest. In one corner stood an armoire. Another corner held a
high-backed, luxurious chair. The chair, like the bed and the thick
carpet, looked soft and lush. It took a moment for her to realize
the walls were padded as well. Sound-proofing?

That’s when she noticed the restraints at each corner of the bed.

She didn’t know how she should react. No, that wasn’t true. The
right, the moral reaction was obvious–she should be horrified. In
truth, she did feel worried. But more, Renee felt excited. Just as
she was excited to see the Warden walk over the armoire and take out
a pair of scissors from a drawer.

“There’s so much I want to know,” said the Warden, dark eyes
gleaming. She approached Renee, scissors in hand. Then paused. Renee
kept looking shifting her own look from the Warden’s face to the
scissors and back. Her breathing was fast and deep, not daring to
say anything. Not yet. “About what happened,” continued the Warden,
“when Gina kidnapped you.” Then, the scissors came closer. Renee’s
eyes fastened on them as they neared her throat. When the Warden
began cutting into the prison uniform, at the shoulder, Renee let
out a tiny moan.

It took only a few seconds for the Warden to cut the uniform from
shoulder down the sleeve. Fabric parted. One bare shoulder was
revealed. Cool air on flesh.

Starting on the other shoulder, Warden Jansen spoke again, voice
low. “Carefull, now. We wouldn’t want you cut. Not by accident,
anyway.” Renee realized she was trembling but there was nothing she
could do. As the scissors cut into the fabric, the sound of it
pierced her. What was left of her panties was soaking wet. Even the
touch of the metal against her bare skin, frightening as it was,
only infamed her more.

One more snip of the scissors. Now both sides of Renee’s uniform
fell, caught only by the chain at her waist. She wasn’t wearing a
bra. Air now on her breasts, on the sweating underside of her cups,
against the sharpening points of her nipples. Renee felt as well as
saw the Warden’s gaze. Hungry. As hungry as Renee herself?

“Tell me. What happened? What did Gina do to you?”

“Sh-sh-she took me to a motel.” Renee obeyed. Her voice sounded
strange–both high and deep at the same time.

“Yes?” The Warden stepped closer, almost touching.

“I thought she was going to kill me. But she told me…she said to

“And you did?”

Renee nodded, unsteadily. This close, the Warden’s own irregular
breathing was more visible. Lips parted, each breath was very deep,
like a slow motion pant.

“She wanted me nude.” Renee had intially only stripped to her
underwear, but Gina had laughed. I want to see you, she’d said. All
of you. That’s when Renee had begun to realize what her captor was
going to do. “Once I was–nude–she had me turn around a couple of


Almost, Renee didn’t say the next words out of her mouth. She didn’t
plan to. But they came anyway. “I…liked it.” Being naked before
that woman’s eyes, a strong dark woman who gazed at Renee with lust.
It had been the stuff of dreams, of years’ worth of fantasies alone
in her studio apartment, imagining a life different from that of a
small town librarian. Renee had longed to be carried off by a
handsome stranger, by someone exotic and powerful who would seduce
her. Later her imaginings had gotten fiercer, as she fingered and
probed herself into release by thoughts of captivity, of submitting
to a mysterious stranger grown more sinister in her mind, one who
forced Renee into becoming her lover. It had been everything she had
longed for, to be kidnapped that day. How thrilled and yet terrified
she had felt! Like now…

The Warden leaned down, releasing breath onto one of Renee’s
painfully erect nipples. “Go on.”

Voice cracking with desire (and fear), Renee did. “Th-then she
ordered me to undress her. I did. She w-wanted me to save her
panties for last. And she said for me to d-do that on my knees.”

Lips grazing her nipple. Renee nearly cried out. She did gasp, and
her knees trembled. One hand reached around her waist, steadying her
as the Warden’s mouth took that nipple in with a sucking motion. A
tongue began tracing a circle around it. Now Renee did cry out, a
long moan of pleasure.

As the Warden shifted to Renee’s other other nipple, she murmured
“Tell me more.” Then that delicious wet heat, the suction, the
teasing muscle of her tongue…


“Once the…once I got her panties off…I…she told me to stay
there…on my knees.” Renee had to swallow before continuing. Images
of what had happened, and the sensations of what was happening
blurred together. “And she s-s-said…she ordered me to

The Warden had caught her nipple between teeth, was drumming tongue
against the tip fast and hard. Her trembling was so severe the
Warden had to hold her firm. After a few eternal moments of this,
the mouth began to leave, sucking on that nipple hard as it left,
distending the flesh. It hurt. And felt wonderful. Renee’s eyes
could barely focus, but she saw the Warden looking up at her, and
that tongue licking those lips. Lips that now came to meet Renee’s
own in a kiss that made Renee moan. She sucked on that tongue. Her
manacled hands reached and clasped the other woman’s waist. And the
Warden–she laughed amid the kiss, a throaty chuckled sending
shivers up Renee’s mostly-bare spine.

Pulling away, the Warden laughed again as Renee almost whimpered,
trying to hold on and keep the kiss from ending. “Patience,” she
purred. “Get on the bed.”

Renee did as she was commanded.

The bed took up much of the room. Renee sat upon it, the Warden
directly before her. A simple push on her shoulders sent Renee onto
her back. The Warden lifted the hem of the uniform, revealing the
torn–and now soaking wet–panties. She smiled. As Renee watched,
eyes huge, she brought the scissors toward her almost-naked crotch.
The blades took hold of elastic which still held the torn underwear
to her body. A snipping sound. Then another.

“You were on your knees,” urged the Warden. She pulled the remnants
of Renee’s panties away.

“And she ordered me…to kiss her pussy.”

“Did you?”

She nodded. Her mouth was almost too dry to speak. By now the Warden
was close enough she could feel breath against her moist groin.

“Tell me more,” said the Warden, her words creating a warm breeze
against Renee’s pubic hair. She shivered.

Wetting her lips, Renee continued. “I put my lips…there…and she
said t-t-to lick. So I d-did. My…I put my tongue
there…inside…her pussy…I licked her…”

“Had you ever done that before?”

“No.” Renee could barely hear her own voice. “B-b-but…” She

“But what?”

“I…” She wet her lips again. The breath against her groin was
maddening. Any doubt, however slight, of what she wanted was gone.
“I used to dream about doing that.”

“Really?” The warm air of the Warden’s breath made Renee writhe
slightly. Her manacled hands grasped the bedcover. “Dreamed about
giving head to another woman?”


“Or dreamed about being forced to give her head? Hmmmm?”

After a few moments, Renee said in a tiny voice. “Being forced.”

“Good girl,” said the Warden. Then she put her mouth on Renee’s
soaking pussy, sucking the lips with her own, pushing her tongue
inside and running along the length of the slit.

Renee let out a long, groaning sigh. Her back arched welcoming the
feel not only of the wet heat and sucking, but also a pair of strong
hands pushing her open thighs further apart. The nerves around her
clit almost burned, responding to the flicking of the Warden’s

“Oh god…! Oh My God!” Was that her voice? It must be. Memories
came back for a moment–the first time she knelt and did this to
Gina, her deepest fantasy made flesh. Now that same fantasy was
back, but in some ways even more intense. The Warden mouth assailed
her, devouring her. “OH GOD!” On their own, without any decision by
Renee, her hands reached up to her nipples. Pinched. Hard–then
harder! But even that sweet pain didn’t match the fevered sensations
in her pussy.

“Please…Please…Please…!” Halfway between a moan and a whine,
she begged.

The Warden didn’t stop. She suckled against Renee’s wet pussy,
putting her entire mouth over the vulva and thrusting her tongue
inside. Renee’s pussy lips were actually pulled into the Warden’s
mouth, so fiercely did she suck. And her tongue never rested,
darting in and out, practically scraping against her prisoner’s
swelling clit–who writhed in response to the assault.

In fact, soon enough Renee stopped saying any words. Sounds came
from her mouth, with her fingers continuing to twist her nipples,
but those sounds resembled anything but speech. Instead, they
sounded like an animal in heat.

Which in many ways was exactly what she was.

Soon–too soon–the Warden did to her clit what she’d done before to
Renee’s nipple. Catching it in her teeth, she began drumming her
tongue fast and strong against the engorged tip.

It was too much. Renee arched her back, curled her feet, pinched her
nipples so hard they became pinpoints of pain. But it didn’t matter.
Her entire body bucked in pleasure as the ice and heat flooded each
and every nerve. Mouth open, she let out a noise that went on and on
and on….


Renee wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard the Warden chuckling
while she continued drumming her tongue. Maybe she did. But as her
teeth held Renee’s clit tighter, the pleasure and pain of what she
was doing drowned out anything else. Any other sound, any other
sensation, simply didn’t exist any longer.

And that’s how it seemed for a time she couldn’t remember. Only
slowly did Renee remember even where she was–who she was. In slow
motion she began to notice details–how her nipples ached more than
she thought they ever had before. How her breath was coming in
shuddering gasps, slowly taking on more natural rhythms. Sweat
covered her in a shean, while between her legs felt as if she lay on
a mattress soaking wet. Which it was. And she knew why. Blinking,
her eyes refocussed, and she looked from side to side.

Where was the Warden? In her heart of hearts, Renee realized
something important. She had just become happy. Gina had been
everything she had desired, almost. Almost. Now, against all
possibilities, Renee had found a source of pleasure out of her
deepest dreams.

“Such a good little fuck toy…” said a voice that made her heart
skip a beat.

The Warden stepped back into view, taking Renee’s breath away again.
She wore nothing but a pair of arm-length black gloves. They looked
latex or maybe rubber. Honestly it was hard to keep her eyes from
between the Warden’s legs, where a hairless pussy looked swollen and
almost dripping. The Warden got onto the bed, straddling Renee’s
face, putting that bare pussy barely an inch from a mouth that was
literally watering.

“Worship me,” her lover/mistress/captor/tormentor commanded.

Renee wasted not a moment.


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