Krystal Watson gets locked up

"I don't belong here" I say insistently as the orderly leads me down the hall to the directors office. I step inside reluctantly and sit on the soft leather chair across from the director as he sits behind his large desk, in front of all his impressive certificates. "Sit, Ms. Watson, please. Relax, we are all here to help you." I shift in the seat and sigh indignantly, scoffing at his attempt to appease me. "I don't belong here... I still can't believe this is happening", I say almost to myself, somewhat in a daze. The director looks over at me with a comforting look, removing his glasses, "That is exactly what most addicts say when they get to this point. But believe me, Krystal, you'll soon be on your way back to a normal life."

I hold back my tears, "I just made a mistake... I'm not a d**g addict! The judge was wrong when he sentenced me to this rehab! I shouldn't be here..." I say, the anxiety building in my voice. The director continues to look at me with a comforting smile saying, "You're here because the judge see's fit. Now, the more cooperative you are, the sooner you will benefit from the treatment we have to offer you. You do want to get better, don't you Krystal? You'll be shown to your room now to settle in and we will talk more tomorrow."

I stand up and follow the orderly to room number 23 and step inside, a blank expression on my face. It's a decent size room but sparsly furnished. There is a single bed and a dresser against one wall and a small desk and chair against the other. There are no windows or closets and the shared bathrooms and showers are down at the end of the hall. My suitcase sits on the bed, unzipped and rummaged through. "Dinner in the dining hall at 6pm, if you're not on time you don't eat" the orderly says coldly and shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone. I fall onto the stiff bed, tears pouring from my eyes, cries of fear and confusion muffled into the pillows. "How could this happening..." I sob, my eyes heavy and my body exhausted, remembering the day I was sentenced...

The judges decision shocked most people who were there that day and most explained it as his way of sending a message to white suburbia. I was arrested for the possesion of a small amount of marijuana, and cocaine. I was 22 years old and had no prior convictions or arrests, not even a speeding ticket. My lawyer had me convinced that this was just all a "formality" and that I had nothing to worry about. Three months in an intensive correctional d**g rehab. "Jeeeeeezus I was just planning on smoking a joint with a friend! How can he possibly send me there??? He can't do this to me can he???", I whispered terrified into my lawyers ear.

... I open my eyes slowly, at first disoriented as I begin remembering where I am. The clock says 5:53pm. I roll over feeling my stomach growl and my mouth dry, in need of some water. I sit up and take my shirt off as it is wet with tears, and slip on a gray college sweatshirt with my faded jeans. I stop in the women's bathroom and brush my long hair up into a ponytail and wash my face before taking the elevator down two floors to the dining hall.

When I step out of the elevator, I hear the clinking of plates and the muffled sounds of voices before I even enter the room. I see both patients and employees and I can feel their eyes on me as I take a tray and step in line. "How's it going? I'm Scott. I've been around here a while, I'd be honored to help you get adjusted, help you relax...." I hear a deep voice from behind me and I turn and see a young guy, maybe 24yrs old, not too tall, short buzz cut hair, tattoos on his neck, and a dark, burnt-out look to his intense eyes. I'm anxious, he looks like a criminal, I smile nervously saying "hi" and turn away hesitantly. I feel him lean in closer to me, putting his hand to his mouth "ahem! (bitch)" I hear him cough and mutter under his breath. My heart pounding, I hold my tray and watch him through the corner of my eye as he walks out of view. I go through line, keeping my head down, trying to blend in.

I get myself some water and fruit and head back to my room and close the door behind me. Suddenly feeling foolish as I instinctively go to reach for a lock to latch shut. Of course, there is no lock I think to myself, a tinge of fear washing over me as I contemplate the reality of it. "You won't find any locks in this place... no where to hide I like to say..." I hear his voice deep and menacing behind me over my shoulder. I drop my water and fruit, yet I'm frozen by this man. His hand on my mouth silences me before I can make a sound and he pulls me by my head, sweeping my legs out from under me, pushing me down to the ground.

His eyes gleam excitedly as he leans in close to my face showing me the sharp knife in his hand and saying "It's just Scott, you know me... The one you're too fucking good for. I really do wanna be friends... But if you make even the littlest peep, I'll fucking kill you. I've killed bitches like you before and I'll do it again if you f***e me too."

Stunned, I shake my head yes and pant breathlessly, biting down hard on my bottom lip, anticipating what will come next. He takes his hand from my mouth and pulls my jeans off of my long white legs. I lay on the floor shivering, in only a sweatshirt and a pair of black panties, looking up at him with sheer ecstasy in my eyes as I realize that he wants to **** me. He stands over me licking his lips, unzipping his pants, grabbing a hold of his long thick cock and stroking it as it grows and stiffens. I cover my face, not wanting to show my excitement as he rips the thin panties off of me and uses his legs to spread mine wide open. "Well look at that, all shaved. That is actually rule number one... always keep your cunt shaved, wet and ready for my cock anywhere, anytime." I squirm weakly, praying for this not to be a dream.

"Beg me to fuck you. Tell me how you want to have my cock inside of you" he growls, his hands snaking around my pussy, my juices starting to flow from his f***eful touch. He grabs my wrist with one hand and holds the knife to my soft fleshy thigh with the other. He f***es my hand onto his cock and pushes the tip of the blade deeper almost piercing my tender skin. "please fuck me" I blurt out. "I know you want my cock bitch, I can tell by the way you look at me, you horny little slut", he says.

He thrusts his hips forward and I feel his cock burying deep inside of me, stretching and filling my tight pussy. He cautiously places the knife down near my feet and grabs a hold of my hips, fucking me deeper and harder. Lust and adrenaline overwhelm me and I reach out scratching and clawing at his chest bucking my hips wildly to throw him off, grunting and whimpering. I feel his hand leave my hip and then suddenly the cold blade is against my throat. "no, oh please no... I'll stop please... please just don't cum in me" I whisper, my body going limp under his brutal pounding as my body tenses and orgasms. "Ohhh yeah...", he growls happily. " Scott fill my pussy with your hot load... say it over and over until I tell you to stop or I'm gonna slit your fucking throat bitch." I gasp and pant, terrified, feeling his cock throbbing and probing deep into my pussy as the sharp blade of the knife grazes the tender skin on my neck

"... Scott... uh please... fill my pussy with your hot load... fill my pussy with your hot load, Scott, uh please... " I groan. I feel his hot cum spurt into me, coating my pussy walls and leaking out down my ass crack as he grabs my hair in a tight fist and pulls it viciously, twisting my head, grunting and groaning mashing his pelvis into me, spreading my lebia as far as they can open. He slows his thrusts and pulls his depleted cock from my pussy.

"Rule number two, you even so much as utter my name, I will punish you. Btw, welcome to rehab, Krystal" he says matter of factly as he puts his pants back on, stopping to lick my cheek and press the blade into my neck one last time "I think we're gonna be good friends now, aren't we Krystal.," before walking out the door.

Laying on the floor where he left me, his sticky semen trickling into a puddle under my ass. I sit up, holding my hands over my face, spams shaking my whole body. I get to my feet and put on my jeans while moaning and gasping, my makeup smudged down my cheeks and my hair toussled and messy. In a daze I grab an armful of clothes and run down the empty hall to the showers.

I clean my body, carefully washing away the cum that's oozing from my violated hole. I dress my self in clean black panties, black sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. I return to my room and sit on my bed, brushing my long wet hair, I frantically rub my clitoris trying to reach another orgasm.

Knock, knock! Completely startled, I jump, "Whhhhho, isss it?" I stutter fearfully. "I'm Rob Smith, I'm an intern, here to take your vital signs. You have to have them taken every two hours." I hear a friendly voice reply back.

"Jjjjust a mmmminute", I reply. "Unless you're not dressed I'll have to ask you to open the door, Krystal. I'm sorry but the two hour rule is a very strict one." I'mmmmm ddddressssed", I call back my eyes darting around nervously as I paw through my suitcase frantically. The door opens slowly and in steps a tall, heafty guy, 6'1 220lbs, with a goatee and a warm smile. "Are you ok, Kystal? You look so tense and frightened. The first day is always the worst, believe me. Let me just get you a glass of water and something to help you sl**p, then I'll take your temp and bl**d pressure. While I'm gone why don't you slip into bed, you'll need to get a good night's sl**p, busy day tomorrow. I'll be back in a few minutes"

94% (21/1)
Categories: FetishHardcoreTaboo
Posted by KrystalLWatson
3 years ago    Views: 1,140
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2 years ago
3 years ago
good story
3 years ago
very good lil'lady wow thats a hanging judge
3 years ago
Wow great story.