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Do You Hear The People Sing?

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Smith wasn't able to fall asleep. Her mattress seemed to be more uncomfortable than ever. Constant screams of the women directed towards the previous governor of Wentworth were making it impossible. She could have tried to shut them up but there was no point in that.


Even though she was used to being called names, Joan couldn't bear listening to that one in particular. She was staring blankly at the wall of her cell, the corners of her lips turned down, her eyes watered slightly.


Bea turned her gaze towards the door of her cell, hearing the sound of them being unlocked. She sat up and murmured something under her breath. The last time she was dragged out of her cell during the night hours was when Ferguson needed something from her. She found it surprising that officer Miles was the one who came for her. She didn't ask questions. She stood up and looked at the blonde officer with some sort of understanding.

"You're gonna get fucked!"

Red put on her slippers and grabbed on the robe, which she put on her shoulders on her way to H3. The only audible sound, except from the women's voices, was clicking of Linda's heels.


She was there, standing in front of the gate. The sight of Ferguson in a gray robe and slightly lighter T-shirt was unusual, if not outlandish. "Hello, Bea." Her expression was neutral but there was a hint of warmth emanating from her dark orbs, as if Joan longed to see her.

Smith furrowed her brow, making a few wrinkles visible. She took a deep breath. "Tell me what you want, I'll say no," she tilted her head, "then we can go back to bed."

The other woman looked down, eyeing Top Dog subtly. "They're letting me have a shower tomorrow, while the women are at breakfast." Her eyes wandered up to Bea's.

The curly haired woman took hold of the bars, expecting of what Ferguson could have said. "And?"

Joan's stare lingered where it was, while her palms covered Bea's. Her long fingers were caressing cold skin, sending jolts of pleasant warmth straight towards Smith's core. "I know women want that pound of flesh. Let's get it over with." She paused, trying to recall her plan. "You come to the showers tomorrow. I won't put up a fight." She shook her head, showing Bea that she was talking seriously.

Top Dog couldn't believe the former governor's words. "You want me to bash you." She was flabbergasted with this request. She couldn't wrap it around her head, even though she knew something had to be done. The women would tear Joan apart if Bea wouldn't step in. She let go of the metal bars and caught Joan's hands in hers, massaging the insides of them with her fingertips.

"Mhm." Joan hummed nonchalantly. "Make it look good. Be a hero. Give the women what they want... the simple transaction with the mutually beneficial outcome." There wasn't a glimmer of fear in Joan's voice. She said every word slowly, accentuating every word to make her demand sound unhesitatingly, what wasn't easy, given that her senses were focused on something else.

Bea raised her eyebrow to look more dangerously and challenging. "You have no fucking idea." It came out as a hiss and she bit her lip, worrying that she was too loud.

Linda Miles smiled cheekily. She heard every single word of the conversation. She took pleasure from the prison drama, especially when it involved Top Dog or Ferguson. Her beneficial outcome, as Joan put it, would be a generous transfer to her bank account and a shot of adrenaline that she craved equally to money.

"Ms Miles." Bea said and moved away from the bars. Linda approached her and crossed her arms on the level of her chest. "I need you to adjust the cameras."

Joan parted her lips, still a bit upset about losing the feeling of Bea's touch against her skin. She was becoming aware of Bea's new strategy. When Linda pulled open the gate, Joan was sure she was right. Linda was stupid enough to risk her career, leaving two of them in the corridor, while she rushed towards the closest broom closet to bring something that would let her regulate the cameras. She got back in no time and thankfully, the women were still alive.

Bea and Joan were led by the officer towards the showers. The angry prisoners were still shouting insults at Joan, expressing their hatred. With each passing minute, she cared less and less about the other inmates. She was preparing mentally for the bashing of her life. Linda left the two women alone, standing just outside the shower block.

Bea pointed to the entrance with her head, waiting for Ferguson to be the first to walk inside. Smith closed the door behind them. By that time, Joan walked towards the nearest wall and leaned her back against it. She closed her eyes and her breathing slowed down. When a minute has passed and Bea made no move on her, she opened her eyes to find that Bea was still standing where she was. She shrugged her robe off her shoulders, folded it and walked to the other side of the room.

Smith followed her in her tracks and pushed her into one of the few shower stalls, pinning her to the wall with her front. She's done it before but it wasn't like this. Nothing's ever the same as it is with Joan.

The taller woman let out a yelp, ready for the first hit. To her surprise, Bea grabbed on her pants and pulled them down, revealing naked and shapely buttocks. She cupped round flesh and took her hand away, only to hit it with her open palm. She could hear Joan exhaling and repeated her action a couple of times. When Joan stifled a moan, Smith lifted herself on her toes and whispered straight into her ear "Keep it quiet, the women aren't asleep."

With Ferguson's nod as a response, she continued what she was doing. The white skin started becoming pink and darkened with each stroke. When she thought it was enough, she took the same kind of care of the other butt cheek. She smelled a familiar scent and knelt down to confirm her suspicions.  

Joan was enjoying it more than Bea thought. Smith promised to herself that she'd ruin Ferguson that night... In other way than she originally planned.

The voices of the prisoners grew louder and Bea cupped Joan's core. "I'll help you focus your mind on something else..."