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“I’ll do it!”
Station Chief Takahashi, producer of Channel 14 and devoted Japanese patriot both before, during, and after the Britannian Occupation, blinked in surprise as his offer was accepted by the woman in front of him. “You do? Just like that?”
The woman in front of him, the blonde and busty Britannian minx named Milly Ashford, sly smirked at her boss. Her hyperactive hands flashed across his desk, grabbing onto various knickknacks, vases, and Hina dolls just to feel the textures before her chaotic whims raced along to a new interest.
“Of course, I do! What, did you expect to scare me off?” she playfully challenged. “I mean, such a daring journey into the bowels of a resurgent nation’s penal system wouldn’t be an exposé most reporters could handle. But I’ve got something they don’t!”
“Uh…” Takahashi groaned, the Britannian’s bouncing tits in her turquoise dress and jacket quite distracting when combined with the current vacuum seal around his dick. “… what?”
“GUTS!” Milly exclaimed, flashing her boss a thumbs-up. “I’m in! Who’ll know I’m not really a crook while I’m undercover?”
“Aside from me and the bigwigs in the police? My brother, since he’s the director of the museum you’ll have supposedly ‘robbed’,” Takahashi explained. “The police bringing you in, the guards, the public, even the judge, they’re all gonna think you’re really a crook before a few weeks pass, you’re sprung, and you write the exposé. It has to be that way to ensure you get the true experience while you’re on the inside, but Aiko will visit you regularly to get updates on the article and to make sure things don’t get too bad for you.”
“Mmm, a delectable idea.” Milly smacked her knuckles atop his desk. “Hear that, Aiko? I expect you to be as ecstatic to visit me in the big house as you are to visit the chief now.”
The vacuum seal around Takahashi’s cock evaporated, a female voice choking with surprise under his desk. The chief himself blanched. “How long have you known—”
“That she was here? Since I walked in the room. That you two have been smooshing booties? A while,” Milly shrugged. “Honestly, it’s none of my business. Though you two should really clear it with HR. A producer and a reporter having a thing is just asking for trouble. Okay! Now I am going to go get my affairs in order before you call the cops tomorrow!”
The blonde barrel of energy petted one of the elegant Hina dolls on Takahashi’s desk one last time before she zipped out of the room, far too excited about the chance to be arrested and go to prison.
Aiko rose up from beneath his desk, the Japanese woman glaring at the door her co-worker had just dashed out of with venomous envy and begrudging respect. “She’s quite the journalist. I’ll give the Brit skank that.”
“What if she sees through our plan?” Takahashi worried. “If she figures out we’re setting her up for real before she’s locked up, she could bring a lot of big players down—"
Aiko pressed a finger to his lips with a serene, devilish smile. “Her old schoolteacher’s husband retired from the Prime Minister’s seat. And due to the nature of the frame job, Empress Nunnally won’t be able to help her once she’s behind bars.”
“But if she figures it out—”
“She won’t figure it out. Dear Milly’s not thinking with her head right now,” Aiko chuckled, grinning over the various artifacts on Takahashi’s desk. The station manager often kept a mess of knick-knacks on his table, which hyperactive Milly always touched like crazy when she was in the room. Getting her fingerprints all over them. “Women talk to each other. And our blonde brit has let me know many times exactly what kind of fantasy would turn her into a bimbo.”
A fantasy that would soon become free and flighty Milly Ashford’s worst nightmare and secure Aiko her place as Channel 14’s top reporter. The pasty Brit clown would be thrown exactly where she belonged while a real Japanese journalist brought the news to their proud, reborn nation.
Milly was practically humming to herself when she spotted the uniformed police officers march into the Channel 14 newsroom. Her co-workers all looked up in concern, years of Britannian occupation leaving the Japanese people wary of being unjustly blamed by authority even as they celebrated and adored their reclaimed self-governance. Only Aiko, the second-best journalist at the station after Milly herself, kept her cool, putting on a front of wariness as the lawmen marched to Milly’s desk.
The blonde Britannian decided it would be best for her assignment’s secrecy that she not seem like she was expecting this. Years of learning to push everyone’s buttons at Ashford Academy had left her equipped with excellent acting skills to keep her cover now. Besides, it would aside in her secret prison fantasy if she played the part of a flummoxed but fiery woman arrested for crimes she didn’t commit.
Milly sorted her last stack of papers and set them on her desk before turning around to face the policemen, the voluptuous caucasian beauty the center of attention for every person in the newsroom. “Is there something I can help you with, officers?”
“Milly Ashford, you’re under arrest for grand theft and breaking and entering,” the lead officer announced. “Turn around and place your hands on the back of your head.”
“What?” Milly bashfully exclaimed, doing her best to appear as a stereotypical brainless blonde belle. “Officer, there must be some mistake. I’m a journalist, not some cat burglar—”
“Turn around and put your hands on your head, Ms. Ashford,” the lead officer barked, pulling a pair of jingling handcuffs from his belt. “The artifacts you stole from the national collection Empress Nunnally returned were found in your apartment with your fingerprints on them. The warrant for your arrest is signed and binding. You can keep quiet and cooperate, or get disciplined, Britannian slut.”
“Britannian slu—hey!” Milly scowled. “I may be Britannian, but I’m no—ah!”
The policemen charged forward and seized the voluptuous reporter by the sleeves of her turquoise jacket. Milly squeaked as she was whirled around and slammed up against her desk. The beautiful blonde’s arms were roughly twisted behind her back, the lead officer stomping forward and snapping handcuffs around her graceful wrists.
Milly’s thighs quivered under her skirt, pleasure shooting through her nerves as the steel bracelets bit into her ivory skin. Her inner folds fluttered as her secret secondary motivation for taking this assignment bore fruit. She’d gotten to indulge many of her crazier kinks back during her time as Ashford Academy’s student council president, but the desire to be dominated by police and prison officials behind bars had been confined to her ladies’ room chats with Shirley, Kallen, and Nina back at school, and Aiko since she’d joined the professional world. She was one hundred percent primarily interested in this assignment for the journalist merit in investigating the Japanese prison system in a post-Britannian Occupation world, especially with the horrifying rumors she’d been hearing about abuses to the ‘sexual discipline’ system inherited from the empire (a practice Empress Nunnally had since outlawed in her own land), but a woman could explore some potential fun on the side.
SMACK!
“Eep!” Milly gasped, her thick, bubbly ass jiggling beneath her skirt as the lead officer’s palm clapped down on her buttcheeks. As all her co-workers watched on, entranced and scornful of her supposed crimes, as the police bent the buxom blonde reporter over her desk and spanked her bountiful rump, pleasure sparking through the gorgeous Britannian as she was disciplined for her mild protest to her arrest.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!!!
“Ah! Eep! Eepah!” Milly squealed, each blow to her juicy rear cracking pleasure through her core as her pillowy asscheeks bounced with every smack. The golden-haired bombshell’s legs shivered in her light blue high heels, the chainlinks between her handcuffs jingling as the police firmly placed her in custody and humiliated the Britannian woman in front of her co-workers.
She hoped she could keep the outraged façade on her face. It wouldn’t do to betray her pleasure before she reached the big house.
She was well on her way as the lead officer finished spanking her and snapped his fingers. His men wrenched Milly back up to her feet, gripping her handcuffed wrists tight. The beautiful newswoman gritted her teeth as the uniformed men marched her through the newsroom, her colleagues sneering at her in disgust as she was perp-walked out into the hall. Most of them had been friendly with her despite her being a Britannian, but her suddenly being revealed to have ‘stolen’ their national artifacts let their understandable distaste for her homeland warp their perception into thinking she was just another imperialist bitch. They’d all laugh about it once Milly was out and the truth was revealed.
But for the moment, only Aiko among the onlookers knew she was innocent as the former Ashford heiress was dragged off to jail in handcuffs.
“Millicent Ashford! The people of New Tokyo hereby find you guilty on all charges!” the judge had declared at the end of her trial, banging his gavel for silence as the bailiff dragged the respected journalist’s arms behind her back and ratcheted tight handcuffs around her wrists. “For the crimes of grand theft and breaking and entering committed against the Japanese people, this court hereby sentences the defendant, Ms. Millicent Ashford, to twenty-five years in prison! In accordance with her felony conviction, Ms. Ashford’s rights are hereby suspended for the duration of her sentence. Bailiffs! Take her away!”
As she was corralled through the imposing steel halls of New Tokyo Women’s Penitentiary, Milly couldn’t help but recall the judge’s vitriol from the end of her trial, her sentence highballed even for the serious charges against her. The artifacts that had supposedly ‘been found her in her apartment with her fingerprints on them’ had been a collection of ancient Hina dolls, vases, and other historical treasures that had been stolen by Britannia during the invasion years ago. Empress Nunnally, seeking to show that she would be nothing like her brother or father as a ruler, had taken great pains to return such looted antiques to their rightful home in Japan. The situation had only increased the public outrage towards Milly, a Britannian, stealing the collection, with many suspecting that she was hired by her homeland’s government to take the treasures back without losing the good press. The empress had of course denied the conspiracy theory, but it kept the Britannian Embassy from doing much of anything about the trial as Milly was handcuffed and hauled off to prison in chains after her conviction.
One prison bus ride later, and the buxom blonde was just another convict on the incoming chain gang, her elegant turquoise dress incased in handcuffs, leg irons, and a waist chain as her fashionable white high heels clacked over the concrete floor. The only Britannian being taken to intake, Milly noticed that she received glares not just from the uniformed guards flanking the prisoners, but also her fellow criminals, the Japanese women looking like they wanted a piece of her as the shackled ladies entered the prison intake room.
Dull gray but with various walls lined with high markers and with tripod-mounted cameras facing them, the processing room was mostly taken up by a long table of plastic bins with an inmate number printed on them. Each of the bins had a pair of black leather high heel boots and a set of folded clothes next to them, though Milly noticed that the pile next to her bin seemed to be smaller than the other inmates’. The gorgeous reporter was roused from her contemplation however when a guard came up behind her and snapped a black metal choker around the voluptuous criminal’s neck. The busty Britannian shuddered as the frigid steel clicked shut around her throat, the collar binding her firm and tight as its viewscreen lit up with her prison registry information.
Name: Ashford, Millicent
Age: 22
Inmate ID: 07839
Crimes Convicted: Grand Theft, Breaking and Entering
Sentence: 25 Years
“These collars are equipped with tracking devices and disciplinary shock functions. Any attempt to remove or damage them shall be treated as an escape attempt and punished accordingly,” the uniformed guard sergeant informed the female inmates, each of them receiving the same kind of collar as Milly before they were all relieved of their handcuffs, leg irons, and waistchains. “Strip out of your clothes and place them in the bin with your inmate number on it. Then stand against the table with your hands behind your head. A guard will come to conduct your cavity search.”
Milly’s body tingled at the blunt command. She’d been cavity searched when she was booked at the police station after being arrested. But now, watching each of the guards snap blue latex gloves over their hands as her fellow convicts began to disrobe, everything felt as real as the inmate collar locked around her neck, marking her as a convicted criminal cast out from society.
The elegant blonde took hold of her turquoise blazer and shimmied it off her creamy arms. Then she unbuttoned her dress bit by bit, trepidatious but a bit prideful as many of the guards’ eyes turned towards her unveiled bountiful bust. The pale garment plummeted to the ground, pooling with her jacket, soon joined by her unclasped bra and pale panties. The busty Britannian knelt down and undid the straps of her white high heels. With the grace of a noblewoman raised for aristocratic politicking and marriage politics before her family’s fall, Milly sashayed her slick shoes over her feet as her toes wriggled.
Once she was naked save for her inmate collar, she gathered up her clothes and dumped them in her assigned bin, her ears alive with the unhappy grunts of the female inmates who were ahead of her in the cavity search process. Then, as commanded, the voluptuous catburglar stood against the table, spread her shapely legs, and bent her arms behind her head. Her fingers threaded through her golden locks as the guard sergeant himself came up behind her, spreading Milly’s pillow rump as his cold, latex-covered finger prodded at the rim of her quim.
“You will feel some pressure,” the uniformed man warned, shoving his frigid fingers into the Britannian beauty’s snatch.
“Eep,” Milly squeaked, biting her lip to hide her excited smirk. The guard sergeant hand manhandled her meaty asscheeks apart as his smooth digit scraped through her slick folds. The salacious felon’s knees shook as her vaginal heartland was fiercely fingered, gripping her golden hair bob tighter as pleasure pierced up from her moistening walls.
The guard sergeant swirled his way around her snatch for one last round before yanking his finger out. Once its cum-stained latex was touched by cold prison air however, it wasn’t long before it was rammed up her arsehole to complete her cavity search. Milly mewled as the frigid digit tunneled through her anus, pumping and churning through her clenching bowels as she was thoroughly frisked through her backdoor.
“Cough, inmate,” the sergeant commanded, wrenching his finger from her bum as the buxom blonde let out her best hoarse cough. When no contraband was shaken loose from her, the voluptuous woman was spanked on her bouncing bum as her uniformed jailer vigorously patted down her shapely form.
Once she was frisked, the sergeant took a fingerprinting machine from one of his fellows and placed it next to Milly’s clothes bin on the table. The fit former noblewoman grunted as he gripped her wrists and pressed each of her pads onto the device’s sensors. Back when she was booked following her arrested, the police had used an old-fashioned inkpad and documents to fingerprint the gorgeous reporter, but it seemed the prison had more budget to have its hi-tech machine catalogue the busty Britannian’s prints for her criminal record’s intake.
The collared woman was dragged to the edge of the room and shoved through a door to a concrete shower room, frigid water pouring down from the shower nozzles on the inmates already inside, rubbing foul-smelling foam over their hair and bodies. Milly’s nose scrunched up at the scent, realizing to her horror that the repugnant foam was soap when the guard sergeant smacked a bar of it into her palm.
“Not up to your prissy standards, Brit? Too bad,” the sergeant sneered, spanking Milly into the shower stream. “Inmates need to get deloused. You do it, or we’ll do it for you. Or let your new cellblock mates do it to build camaraderie.”
“Oh, please let us do that, officer,” one of the other collared ladies smirked as she rubbed her muscular tattooed thighs (Milly thought she recognized marks of resurgent Yakuza across her legs). “We’d love to give the Brit an authentic Japanese welcome.”
Milly was surprised and a bit worried that the guard would even raise the idea of giving the other inmates such purvey over her. Still, the spirited young woman was not the respected student council president of Ashford through constant terrorist turmoil and even The Black Rebellion for nothing. She picked her nose up and defiantly glared back at the Yakuza woman as she set about cleaning herself under the shower, the delousing soap biting against her ivory skin and golden hair.
Once it was washed off her pale back and full breasts, the guard sergeant seized her gleaming, wet bicep and yanked the beautiful blonde out of the shower room, more criminals marching inside it. In turn, Milly was wrenched back to her clothes bin at the intake room table, her escort pointing towards her folded black and white striped prison jumpsuit.
A bit of the reporter’s fantasies slivered back into her mind as she saw that treasured iconography of incarceration sexiness. Licking up a bead of drool from her lips, Milly snatched up her inmate uniform and set to work stepping into the black and white symbol of her status as a criminal (the traditional Britannian orange jumpsuit was done away with once the occupation ended). She stepped into the tight leggings and pushed her arms through its short sleeves. Bit by bit, she buttoned up the stripped coverall over her bountiful breasts before snagging her knee-high black leather convict boots from the table and shoved over her feet and calves, nearly reaching up to her jumpsuit’s edge.
Though, as her excitement faded a bit, she finally noticed just why her uniform pile was smaller than the other convicts.
“Uh, sir,” Milly inquired. “I seem to be missing my uniform’s underwear?”
“You are, are you?” the guard sergeant sarcastically drolled. “Sometimes when enough of you sluts come in, we run out of certain sizes. You’ll have to go commando until we get new shipment in, your highness.”
A chorus of snickers went up from the surrounding guards and inmates, some of the coughs from prisoners getting cavity searches transforming into chuckles. However, the sergeant’s cheer at depriving Milly of underwear (which totally were just out of stock) dimmed when he noticed that she wasn’t upset about his latest attempt to demean her. What could she say? In all her prison fantasies, she’d somehow never considered the detail of having underwear under her inmate jumpsuit. So this attempted slight just heightened her excitement for this story assignment.
She had a glow to her as her quim began to tingle, rubbing her hands down her supple, sensual form, admiring the black and white striped jumpsuit denoting her as a criminal to be locked away for decades. “Hehehe, probably for the best to lack the extra width. Stripes will make me look big enough as it is—hey!”
Her lack of displeasure seemed to have pricked something in her jailer, the muscular man rushing up behind the ravishing reporter and wrapping his arms around her voluptuous form. Milly gasped as her arms were squeezed into his sides by the embrace, her captor’s hands greedily grabbing her bountiful breasts. The beautiful blonde’s face heated up as she was vigorously groped, coarse fingers sinking into her juicy bust through her skintight black and white jumpsuit.
“Oh, you’ll be getting ‘bigger’ before your sentence is out,” the sergeant warned, his angry whisper hot against her creamy neck. His fingers flicked down, unzipping the privates’ flap of Milly’s jumpsuit before sensually stroking her stomach. “Many, many times.”
Milly’s eyes widened, feeling a bulge poking against her moist quim that was definitely not the sergeant’s gun in his pocket. Her arms were viciously wrenched behind her back, freezing steel handcuffs ratcheted around her exposed, creamy wrists. On paper, inmates were only supposed to be fucked during their regular sexual discipline or when they were being punished for infractions, with rumors of power abuses for unprovoked rapes being drowned out by Japan’s collectivist mindset and overflowing national pride. Granted, it didn’t seem like any of the guards were making any moves to take advantage of the other inmates, so it might have just been that Milly was a Britannian catburglar charged with stealing Japanese national treasures.
So perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the sergeant smashed her over the cold metal of the intake room table and plowed his cock into Milly’s vulnerable cunt.
“Oooohhh!” Milly cried out, her stormy blue eyes nearly popping out of her head as her captor’s manmeat rammed through her slick pussy walls. The surrounding guards and inmates cackled as the buxom Britannian sprayed spittle from her lips the moment her core was pierced. The blonde’s short-sleeved prison jumpsuit struggled to contain her massive mammaries as she was hammered over the table. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Ooooohhhh yyyeeesss, offiicceerrr—Oooohhh!!!”
The gorgeous journalist’s handcuffs jingled as their chainlinks bounced between her wrists, her jailer’s pelvis smashing against her fat, pillowy ass. The guard sergeant reached down and wrapped his muscular arm around Milly’s thick thighs, lifting the sensual blonde’s leg into the air as her pussy was ruthlessly plundered. Orgasms crackled through the convicted reporter’s senses as all her prison fantasies came to life, her warden brutally punishing her for all the crimes he believed she had committed. The Britannian burglar would find herself robbed of any scant remaining purity as she began her sentence behind bars.
“Yes! Yehs! Yeeeehhhhssss! Fuhck meh! Fuhck meh, officer!” Milly pleaded, her slimy tongue flailing out of her mouth and tickling her glossy pink lips every time her cunt was thrusted full of throbbing hot cock. “Pound me! Fucked this convicted, handcuffed bitch! Tame my capricious catburglar pussy! Fill me up with cum and make me pay for my crimes—Aaaaaahhhh!!!!!”
The blue-eyed Britannian squealed with ecstasy as her captor jammed his shaft down to her core and exploded with hot semen sludge. Goopy, slimy cum ropes sprayed through Milly’s pussy, the buttons of her black and white inmate uniform straining to contain her spasming bombshell body. The former student council president of Ashford Academy was pinned down to the intake room table as she sang with salacious euphoria, the gorgeous, bubbly journalist filled with the first creampie of her long incarceration as a criminal slut. Sweaty and sundered, the defiled noblewoman could only pant with pleasure as her jailer yanked his throbbing dick from her quim, spirts of seed splashing over her juicy rear as the sloppy cum river leaked down her spread, lascivious legs.
“From the sounds of it, you really are one kinky brit, 07839,” the guard sergeant sneered, fiddling with a nearby plaque and its various white letters. He unlocked Milly’s handcuffs and tugged her back to her feet by her numb arm as one of his subordinates prepped a tripod-mounted camera. “Enjoy your sentence while you can. We’ve gotten kinky bitches in here before. They all reach their limit eventually. And then the real fun starts.”
The sergeant pushed Milly up against the height marker wall, the woozy reporter’s high heel boots teetering against the intake room’s coarse concrete floor. But the smile over her lips was not from delirium, but slyness. The guards thought she’d be there for twenty-five years. Less if she made parole, but still a substantial time. They had no idea she was going to be out in a few weeks and publishing her prize-winning exposé. The vigor of their racist hatred of her only made the sex spicier than even her fantasies had conceived. After all, that creampie she just received did not fill her womb on a safe day, which in hindsight she really should have considered more carefully before she agreed to temporarily go behind bars.
Still, she struggled not to smile as she raised her inmate ID plaque in front of her breasts for her mugshots. The slate read: Inmate 07839 – Ashford, Millicent.
The guards’ camera flashed and the gorgeous blonde reporter had her intake mugshots taken for Japan’s national criminal database, buxom journalist’s pictures officially making her an inmate convicted of catburglary and other horrendous crimes. At least until the weeks were up and she was released.
Why had weeks gone by and she hadn’t been released?!?!
Everything had gone according to plan! Milly had undergone prison life as a convict, facing a gaggle of extra abuse due to her heritage such as being forced to give the guards blowjobs when the other inmates got water breaks during hard labor or the guards turning a blind eye to the other inmates raping her in the baths. It all got a bit extreme even for her tastes, but what wasn’t covered by her sexual fantasies was quietened by her journalistic hunger for such a brilliant exposé. Every week she had been visited by Aiko as planned, giving her co-worker regular updates and notes on how the story had been progressing. It’d been fun to banter and joke with her colleague in the brief reprieves from her incarceration, laughing about how she was “paying the price for her fiendish catburglar thrill-seeking”.
But it was after the date when she should have been released and she hadn’t been released! The visits from Aiko had weirdly stopped too! Everything was off! And given she’d started getting woozy morning sickness and the prison doctor had confirmed it was exactly what it seemed like (before plowing over the infirmary cot himself), she needed to get released soon if she was to have any chance at securing an abortion, already a difficult task given how reactionarily conservative Japan had become after Prime Minister Ohgi retired after his first term in office.
“Hey! Hey! Don’t get distracted, ya brit slut!” the Yakaza lady from the intake showers barked, his fingers threaded through Milly’s golden hair and jamming her mouth into the other convict’s slick quim. “Oh, yeah. Forget being a talking head. This is your tongue’s true calling.”
Milly rolled her eyes, her arms bent behind her back by the Yakuza woman’s gang as she was forced to kneel before the prison rec room couch. The elegant journalist’s face was shoved into the chief convict’s spread pussy as the television played behind her. There were plenty of guards on duty keeping watch by the door and observing the inmates during their free time who theoretically should have stepped in. But their first priority when seeing a Britannian made into a criminal slut was to pull out their cocks and let their hands get to work.
“And now for a special exposé by Channel 14’s very own Aiko Mizuhashi, reporting on how the conditions of Japan’s penal system treat the most heinous of criminals.”
“Ha! Look at that, brit!” the Yakuza lady cackled, pointing at the television. “You’re on ‘telly’.”
The rest of the gang laughed, but Milly’s gaze could only flicker towards the TV, perplexed at why her mugshots had appeared on the screen as Aiko’s voice played.
“Millicent Ashford, once a respected reporter for this very news station, a woman that many would call a model Britannian of the new age of peace,” Aiko narrated, Milly’s mugshots shifted to a newspaper photo of her being escorted out of the courtroom in handcuffs after being found guilty at her trial. “Alas, whatever virtues she possessed, Ms. Ashford was undone by an unquenchable thirst for excitement and the ingrained Britannian belief that all that matters are her own desires, unfortunately fostered by how no limits were imposed on her during her schooling at her family’s Ashford Academy.”
“The prez would never hurt anyone… intentionally,” Rivalz passionately argued, the screen shifting to an interview Aiko must have done with him, the lower third naming him as Milly’s former classmate and member of the Ashford Student Council. “I mean the events she planned were really extra, and sometimes they got out of hand, but it was all for fun! She never meant any harm!”
The television shifted to the collection of artifacts Milly had been convicted of stealing, including familiar Hina dolls. Then it changed to pictures of the busty blonde tolling away with her sledgehammer in the prison yard. “Unfortunately, to get her excitement fix after leaving the school where she had all the power, Ms. Ashford performed a daring heist of priceless artifacts recently returned by Empress Nunnally, irresponsibly risking Japan’s newly reclaimed cultural heritage and the newfound peace the world enjoys.”
“Whaht?!” Milly gargled, her eyes widening as her lips and tongue was mashed into the Yakuza lady’s slickening cunt. However, the reporter in the skintight black and white jumpsuit was more concerned by her colleague publicly reporting on the fake cover story of her being a cat burglar instead of the truth. Hell, she had no idea Aiko was going to interview Rivalz, let alone that she was going to use Milly’s eccentric time at her beloved Ashford Academy to sell her as a criminal to the public. What the hell was going on?!
Unfortunately for the buxom blonde, everything clicked into place when the TV shifted to showcasing Milly herself in her inmate uniform, her wrists sealed in handcuffs behind the bulletproof glass of the prison visitor’s center. It was a recording of the weekly check-ins that Aiko had done with her. But the clips that followed were edited, taken out of context, with what Milly had thought to be light-hearted words framed as cocky, callous confessions.
“… the guards really lay into me any chance they get…”
“… the other girls on the cellblock can’t help grabbing me, but I kind of like it. I do ‘deserve’ it, after all…”
“… I’m paying the price for my fiendish catburglar thrill-seeking.”
“Hahahahaha!” the Yakuza lady laughed, her gang and even some of the guards echoing her cackles. “Roundabout way to give your confession, brit, but there’s pomp to it. Will probably win your friend there some kind of award—Woah!”
In their cocky laughter, the Yakuza were unprepared for Milly to suddenly explode up from her kneeling position, throwing them off as she stomped towards a nearby guard.
Ashford’s former student council president was a smart woman. She’d had to be in order to convince, cajole, or bamboozle Lelouch into doing anything that didn’t involve Rolo back during the Demon Emperor’s time at the school. But her fatal flaw was her passion and her reckless exuberance, and they had bit her in the butt more than ever now. In hindsight, it was so easy to see the small hints of Aiko’s jealousy, even if Milly had never dreamed that her new friend would go so far. Her affair with Takahashi would allow her to recruit his and his brother’s assistance, and then it was just a matter of using the intel from their ladies’ room talk and Milly’s journalistic hunger to lead her into a trap that under normal circumstances she would have been smart enough to see coming.
But she hadn’t and now she was trapped behind bars, the whole world believing her a guilty criminal slut who’d gotten what she deserved. Even her friends had been presented with a false narrative that perfectly squared away with what they knew of her, especially with how little she’d fought the accusations back during her arrest and trial, so foolishly eager to jump into her fantasy. Only to be trapped in a nightmare with no allies in sight.
“I need to see my lawyer,” Milly pleaded, dashing up to the closest guard.
“Step back, inmate,” the uniformed man coldly commanded. “If you wish to move to another area for your remaining free time, you will need to step back—”
“She tricked me!” Milly panicked, not stepping back in her desperation. “Aiko tricked me! I’m innocent! I didn’t steal anything, I’m not a burglar—Aaaaahhhh!!!”
ZAP!
Milly shrieked as her shock collar flared to life, electricity coursing through her nubile body as she wasted her one warning. Before she knew it, she’d collapsed to the floor and the guard had been joined by a pack of his comrades. Before the blonde Britannian had any chance to recover, the uniformed men piled on top of her, seizing her thrashing limbs and viciously twisting her arms behind her back. The framed reporter helplessly cried as frigid steel handcuffs wrapped around her wrists, ratcheting tight into her skin as they locked the innocent beauty in chains. Soon after, leg irons slapped around the ankles of her black leather high heel boots and a bright red ballgag was smashed into her mouth, its smooth straps buckled around her head.
“Uppity brit bitch. You should know better than to talk back,” the guard sneered. “Look’s like it’s a week in solitary for this catburglar.”
“Imm naht a caatbrrglr! Imm naht a crihmihnal!” Milly yelled, the apple sphere locking between her lips muffling her cries. Tears rushed down the busty journalist’s cheeks as she was dragged off to the solitary wing, the other inmates cackling at the Britannian whore’s punishment.
The handcuffed inmate’s boots dragged across the cold steel floor until she finally reached a thick metal door and was chucked inside a small dark cell. The guards manhandled the curvaceous reporter over the room’s raggedy futon, her knees bent into the scratchy fabric as her sensual legs were spread. Her jailers unzipped the privates flap of her short-sleeved black and white jumpsuit, the gorgeous blonde shivering as the frigid jail air touched the rim of her asshole.
Soon after, a warm bulbous tip touched the sodden petals of her quim. And it was no longer a fantasy when it charged inside her.
“Oooooaaahhhh!!!” Milly howled, pleasure plunged through as the thick pole of manmeat bashed through her velvet folds. The graceful noblewoman was pinned down to the prison cell futon, her bountiful Britannian breasts smushed into the Japanese bedding as the pack of uniformed men clawed at her voluptuous form. Some groped the gorgeous convict, squeezing and clenching her plump, child-bearing hips. Some spanked her, their coarse palms bouncing her jiggling cheeks. Some licked and bit at her regal throat, their saliva painting her collared, creamy neck. “Oh! OH! OH! Ooohh!”
Her cunt walls clenched and squeezed around the engorged dick sheared through her vaginal heartland, railing her core with furious hunger. Milly’s slobber drooled down the smooth surface of her ballgag, her sweat building underneath her skintight inmate uniform as she was bulldozed into the futon. The smacks of her rapist’s pelvis against her buttcheeks sounded in time as ominous footsteps stomped into the solitary cell.
“Gotta say, 07839. I thought it would have taken longer than this for you to break,” the guard sergeant admitted, crouching down in front of Milly and seizing the handcuffed journalist by her glistening chin. He gazed down into her teary, bloodshot eyes with the hunger of a lion spotting a wounded gazelle. He unzipped his fly, then reached around her head and unbuckled the beautiful blonde’s ballgag. “But that just means the real fun gets to start sooner.”
“Sergenat—Ah!—Please—AH! AH!” Milly cried, her plea constantly interrupted by guttural moans of pleasure as her pussy was thrust full of blazing cock. “AH! AH!—I’m innocen—GaMMMMMM!!!!”
The sergeant yanked her golden hair forward and plunged his cock deep into her mouth. The gorgeous reporter squealed as the salty meatpole rammed over her slimy tongue, Milly’s stormy blue eyes bulging as her gangrape became a spitroast.
“You know, normally, you criminal sluts try that lie when you first arrive, not weeks into your sentence,” the sergeant mocked her, eagerly facefucking her as he smashed her delicate nose into his virile, hairy ballsack. “Not that we could do anything about it if you were. The courts decide who’s guilty. Our job is just to lock up the sluts they send us. And a cocky brit bitch like you? We’re gonna keep you locked up tight for your entire sentence. Twenty-five years of getting you nice and big, over and over and over…”
Milly whimpered in fear even as her eyes rolled back in her head, stupefied by salacious sensation. Even terrified of her doom as throbbing cocks burrowed through her pussy and down her throat, she could not resist her kink and the pleasure it flooded her nerves with. Her handcuffs jingled behind her back as her face smushed into the sergeant’s squishy ballsack, her tongue desperately lapping at her jailer’s meaty shaft. There was no way out, her once vibrant life turned to iron bars and a lifelong reputation as a convicted criminal. With the inherent racism of the system and the demerits on her prison record from this solitary stay, she’d never succeed in an appeal or a parole hearing. She was doomed to spend the next twenty-five years of her life being knocked up in prison, forced to live with the scarlet letter of her crimes for the rest of life afterward.
The sergeant yanked on her golden hair and hilted his cock deep into the buxom blonde’s gullet. The guard ravaging her pussy dug his fingers into her voluptuous, supple hips and plowed his shaft down to her womb. Within moments of each other, the lawmen’s dicks erupted with hot goopy semen. Milly’s throat vibrated with a salacious moan, her body giving out as the thick creampies blasted through her tight, slimy holes. Ecstasy gripped the reporter’s nerves as unwanted heat blazed through her sweaty form.
This was her life now. Her sentence as Inmate 07839 of New Tokyo Women’s Penitentiary.
As soon as the sergeant and his fellow ripped their cocks from her holes, sticky semen dribbling down her chin and thighs, the buxom Britannian began to collapse. But she didn’t hit the futon before two more guards snatched her handcuffed form and bulldozed back into her holes. The train of uniformed men would rape her unconscious before locking her up in her cell for the night.