Criminal Dykes Behind Bars!
Three stories
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Diann Anthony
A Hard Case Dyke eBook
2012
Smashwords Edition
2012
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Copyright © 2012 by Hard Case Dyke, LLC
These stories originally appeared in the anthology Lust & Sex Behind Bars edited by Garth Mundinger-Klow (Olympia Press, 2010). They have been slightly revised for this edition.
Naked in the Dyke House
I
was only twenty-three when my identity was stolen. They used it to
buy illegal things. I got charged for it. I had no way to prove that
I wasn’t the one buying all this shit that they said that I did. I
don’t even fully no what I “bought”, because of security
issues. The judge was a hard-ass dyke with no mercy. I didn’t have
a chance. I was charged with the intent to sell and buy illegal
foreign goods, and I got 4-6 years in jail, with parole possible
halfway through.
Anyone who knew me, knew that I wouldn’t do
anything like this, and was the least likely do ever be in jail. I
was drove from the city jail to the women’s State of Nevada
Penitentiary. We were given powder blue, crotch binding jumpsuits. My
blonde hair is undone, and dirty.
Before I got here I
was a dance instructor, for a Vegas dance studio. During college I
used to be a cheerleader. As you could guess, I had a great body, and
a tan too! My weekly schedule included, dancing everyday, tanning
everyday, and dating everyday. I used to go to the nude beach to get
a full body tan, and once in awhile pickup a guy. My legs, arms, and
abs are lean and muscled, but not too muscled. My tits were pert and
stayed up without much aid from a bra. I had a pure dancer ass, and
kept it virginal. I just think that sticking anything up there is
kind of icky.
The bus drove up to the gate of prison, and we
were unloaded, guards with shotguns in hands. We walked through the
path with gated sides, as the bulky, trailer trash girls hollered and
shouted at us. The prison inside was as gray as the clouded, rainy
sky. I took the staircase at the end up and was pushed into the cell.
They were 12X10 with a bunk bed, toilet, and a couple of boxes filled
with shit. It was dark and I could tell that I already had a roommate
on the top bunk.
I walked to the bottom bunk, lay down
in a ball and cried. I cried myself to sleep the first night.
The
lights went on, and guards came in at seven. The gates opened up and
I saw my roommate come down for the first time. She was pretty, much
prettier than one could imagine being in jail. She had curly auburn
hair past her shoulders. Her eyes matched her hair color, and her
build was average. She was thin, but not too thin. If she had told me
she was a dancer I would have believed her. “I heard you crying
last night, but believe me it gets easier every night - I’m
Tammy.”
I just nodded my head and looked at the wall. She
was nice. It would be terrible here I knew, but she could be a bright
spot in here. “I’m Ginger,” she said. “Shower time,” she
said.