CRACK ATTACK!
They haul you through and walk you along for what seems like a mile. And probably is given the size of the place. You glance at a clock and see that it is 7:30. Great! You're going to miss the Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman marathon on Lifetime.
Eventualy you reach your destination; the Jail Department. The guards throw you into a little white walled room and slam a metal door behind them, leaving you alone in the gleaming white, windowless room. A florescent light flickers overhead, giving your shaking hands a strobe-like effect that would be otherwise enjoyable, if only you had some crack in your system.
There is nothing in the room save a hard wooden bench and you sit upon it and wait for something to happen. But nothing happens. You pace around the room often enough, but always return to that bench in a hopeless attempt to relax.
You don't know how long it takes, but after what seems like eons in crackhead years, the door opens. It's the old man who handed you a happy face sticker at the front door when you first arrived here. He has a demented smile on his face.
"Hello." He says to you.
"I need out of here!!" You tell him frantically. He seems like a nice guy, maybe he can get you out of here!
He pulls his pants down and bends over with his wrinkled ass before you. "Lick my asshole." He orders you.
"Uh..." This is wierd, you think.
"You want out of here don't you?" He says to you, looking back at you from around his prune-like ass. You nod. "Then lick my asshole." He tells you.
Reluctantly, you settle down on your knees and begin dipping you tongue in and out of his anus while he pulls repeatedly at his ancient, withered penis. You lick it from the top of his crack to just behind his wrinkled nut sack. You lick it from side to side and all around, his moans of ecstacy leaving you with a sick feeling in your gut.
When he is done he pulls up his pants and leaves you kneeling on the ground without a single word of thanks.
Your mouth tastes like shit, go figure. You get to your feet and look around the sanitary white room, sanitary save for a little ivory puddle in the middle of the floor.
Every night the little old man returns. Sometimes you are forced to lick at his anus, other times you just suck him off. And every once in a while, if he took extra viagara, he brings some vasoline and fucks you up the ass.
You never get out. And you never smoke your beloved crack again. Asshole.
Eventualy you reach your destination; the Jail Department. The guards throw you into a little white walled room and slam a metal door behind them, leaving you alone in the gleaming white, windowless room. A florescent light flickers overhead, giving your shaking hands a strobe-like effect that would be otherwise enjoyable, if only you had some crack in your system.
There is nothing in the room save a hard wooden bench and you sit upon it and wait for something to happen. But nothing happens. You pace around the room often enough, but always return to that bench in a hopeless attempt to relax.
You don't know how long it takes, but after what seems like eons in crackhead years, the door opens. It's the old man who handed you a happy face sticker at the front door when you first arrived here. He has a demented smile on his face.
"Hello." He says to you.
"I need out of here!!" You tell him frantically. He seems like a nice guy, maybe he can get you out of here!
He pulls his pants down and bends over with his wrinkled ass before you. "Lick my asshole." He orders you.
"Uh..." This is wierd, you think.
"You want out of here don't you?" He says to you, looking back at you from around his prune-like ass. You nod. "Then lick my asshole." He tells you.
Reluctantly, you settle down on your knees and begin dipping you tongue in and out of his anus while he pulls repeatedly at his ancient, withered penis. You lick it from the top of his crack to just behind his wrinkled nut sack. You lick it from side to side and all around, his moans of ecstacy leaving you with a sick feeling in your gut.
When he is done he pulls up his pants and leaves you kneeling on the ground without a single word of thanks.
Your mouth tastes like shit, go figure. You get to your feet and look around the sanitary white room, sanitary save for a little ivory puddle in the middle of the floor.
Every night the little old man returns. Sometimes you are forced to lick at his anus, other times you just suck him off. And every once in a while, if he took extra viagara, he brings some vasoline and fucks you up the ass.
You never get out. And you never smoke your beloved crack again. Asshole.
