Heartless (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Whistling as he walked, Roache made his way to Dolly’s cell. It was her last night so he wanted to ensure that she ended her stay with one great big bang.

Roache had thoroughly enjoyed the time that he had spent supervising Dolly’s wing, taking his opportunity to have sex with the girl morning, noon and night. Dolly had been an exceptional fuck. Her tiny twenty-three year old body was tight and perky in all the right places, which made a nice change from the usual frumpy bitches that took residence here in Holloway. Dolly was definitely the cream of the crop in comparison to the other women he had had in here with their jellified bodies, poor hygiene and personalities that would give some of the roughest men he knew a run for their money. Dolly, however, was sweet.

Checking the corridor before he entered her cell, Roache felt himself getting hard at the thought of her hot little lips around his cock.

“You alright, Doll?” Roache locked the door behind him and pulled out three miniature bottles of vodka and a bar of Galaxy chocolate. Slinging them down on to the bed next to Dolly, he grinned as if he had presented her with winnings from the National Lottery.

“Thought you might like a treat tonight, celebrate the end of our beautiful friendship,” Roache leered as he looked Dolly up and down. With her hair in plaits and no make-up on she looked ridiculously young and vulnerable. The stiffness in his trousers was becoming uncomfortable. He unzipped his fly, before picking up one of the bottles.

“Here, get that down you,” he said, as he unscrewed the lid and passed her the tiny bottle. “You need to loosen up a bit, girl. I wouldn’t have guessed by that look on your moosh that you were getting out of here tomorrow. What’s the matter with you?”

Roache knew what the matter was: Dolly hated that he had made her satisfy him one way or another every single day that he had been on shift ever since they had started this little arrangement. Whenever she got a bit gobby about it or refused to go along with what he wanted, he threatened her with telling Trevor. She did as she was told once she was reminded of the life that was waiting for her outside. Once a whore, always a whore, Roache thought. Getting into trouble with Trevor was more than her life was worth.

Smiling again, he watched her ignore his question as she obediently tipped her head back. She swallowed one of the vodka miniatures in one big gulp. As she did so, her small but perfectly rounded breasts jiggled beneath her grey T-shirt. Feeling his cock stir for her once more as he realised she had no bra on, he started his usual routine of playing with himself before thrusting himself into her mouth. Dolly moved her lips move expertly up and down the shaft, just getting on with it instead of making her usual show of resistance. It didn’t bother him either way. If she started making any noise about his advances it just added to his pleasure when he finally forced her to do what he wanted. He got off on making her sore, enjoying that he could be so rough with the girl. Sometimes the little bitches needed reminding who was in control.

Grabbing Dolly’s head, he considered that it was a shame that her sentence had been so short, he was going to miss her. This was a new feeling for him, as he usually felt nothing but contempt for the women in prison; he used them for his own pleasure but they left him feeling dirty, mainly because if they were on the outside he wouldn’t have looked at them twice. Dolly was different, she was lovely to look at and not only was she able to satisfy him in just minutes, but she always left him wanting more.

Feeling his loins tingle, he tried not to come as he wanted her to pleasure him for as long as possible. He wanted her to work at it tonight; a few more minutes of this and he was going to flip her over and give her the hardest fuck of her life.

God, he loved his job.

Looking up at him with her puppy-dog eyes, Dolly stopped what she was doing and asked him in a girly voice if it was okay. Hearing this eagerness, Roache almost lost control.

“Yeah... Keep going, suck me harder.”

Dolly obliged. She had been waiting all day for Roache’s visit. He had said that he wanted to make her last night special, and she was in no doubt that was exactly what it was going to be. Only it was her that was going to make it special for him.

Earlier today she had plucked up the courage to call Trevor; she knew he was going to go ape-shit on for her not phoning sooner, being the control freak that he was, but she was so angry that he had set up this arrangement with Roache that she had wanted to leave him to stew. Three weeks of avoiding all contact with him was stupid, though; he was going to be furious when he saw her tomorrow, and she had hoped that the fact that she had phoned him in the end might soften the blow somehow.

“Three fucking weeks, Dolly, in which I ain’t heard jack shit from you,” he had bellowed at the other end of the line as Dolly stood out in the main corridor with a row of prisoners lined up behind her as they waited their turn for the phone. “You think that just cos you’re inside, you can ignore me? Do you think I’m some sort of a cunt? I’ve told you before: if you ain’t with me, you call me. Every single fucking day. You belong to me.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you, Trevor; I had no money for a poxy phone-card, did I?”

They both knew Dolly’s excuse was bullshit; she could have got some money to buy a phone-card from one of the other girls if she had really wanted to. And Dolly had only so boldly avoided him because she knew there was nothing he would be able to do about it. Trevor refused to go anywhere near prisons: he hated the places. The only time he came anywhere near was when he had to pick one of his girls up from the gate on her release, and even that was too close for comfort for him.

“Don’t play games with me, girl,” Trevor warned. “You’ve been taking the piss. What did you think, huh? That you were owed a fucking holiday or something?”

“Oh, please. It was hardly a holiday, was it, Trevor. You’ve had that bloody Roache up me like a frigging ferret every five minutes since I got here. I’ll need a holiday when I get out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh cut the crap, Trevor. Roache said you owed him big time and I’ve spent the past three weeks paying your debt with fucking interest.” Dolly had stopped caring if Trevor was angry: she had a grievance too. The last three weeks had been a nightmare. She had needed a few weeks away from her world, a few weeks of respite, before she got out and had to do it all over again: the same men, the same dirty fantasies, the same never-ending regime. But she couldn’t even have that. Even in here, Trevor had seen to it that she paid her way. Roache had been a constant threat. And tomorrow, when she got out, Trevor was going to continue to be a complete arsehole too.

“Dolly darling, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Trevor racked his brains. “I don’t know anyone by the name of Roache, let alone owe the fucker any debt.”

Dolly felt her cheeks burn at the realisation that Roache had been having her over. She had endured three weeks of torment because of that man; three fucking weeks.

“What’s his first name?” Trevor asked. His voice had turned cold again and Dolly recognised his mind reverting to business mode. Trevor was a nutcase, but a shrewd one. If Roache had set her up Trevor would see to it that, one way or another, he would pay.

“I only know him as Officer Roache; everyone in here calls him Cockroach.”

“Well, do me, and yourself, a favour, yeah? Next time that cunt comes sniffing around tell him from me that he’s in my fucking debt now. Tell him I charge a grand a week for your exclusivity, and I’ll be adding a premium for his blatant fucking piss-taking. I ain’t having no bent fucking screw trying to have one over on me. And I’ll be seeing you at the gate tomorrow, so no funny business, you hear? You’ve got some making up to do.”

Long after Trevor had put down the phone, Dolly stood holding it and thinking about what he had said, as the girls standing in the queue behind her shouted at her to let them have their turn. When Roache had mentioned Trevor’s name, Dolly hadn’t thought to question him. Why would she? Lots of people knew Trevor, and Roache was obviously bent. She had then done everything that man had made her do.

It was typical that Trevor considered that he was the one that had been made a fool of. Just the thought of all those things that she had done with Roache made her feel angry. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

Now, Dolly had Roache where she wanted him, standing in her cell with his pants around his ankles, as she brought him to the height of pleasure. Dolly knew that she was giving him the best blow job of his life. She wanted him to remember it forever. Just a few moments of him letting her take control was all she needed.

Roache gripped Dolly harder. He wouldn’t last more than a few more minutes if she carried on doing that with her mouth. He leaned his head back in ecstasy.

That was when Dolly bit down on his cock as hard as she could. He screamed in agony. Dolly clamped her teeth down harder, paying no heed to the popping sound that his penis made as it crunched between her teeth.

“You fucking bitch,” he shouted, as he managed to throw Dolly off him with the little strength that he had left; in agony, he fell to the floor.

His last thought before he blacked out was that the fucking bitch had found out that he had lied to her about Trevor. However, Roache hadn’t completely lied. He did know Trevor: everyone did. The way he lorded it above everyone at his local pub, it was difficult not to know who he was. Roache often went for a pint down at The Western Arms after he finished his shift. After a hard day’s graft, it was often needed. He had been doing exactly that a few weeks ago, minding his own business as he had downed his well-earned pint. That was where he had first become aware of Trevor. It was hard to miss him: the guy wore so much jewellery, he looked like he had run through Goldsmiths and been hit by every cabinet. The bloke spoke loudly, too, putting on a show for everyone around him. When Trevor had piped up about some bird of his being holed up at Holloway, Roache had decided to get himself another drink while he listened in. Half-cut, Trevor spouted off to his cronies that he was narked because his best girl had been banged up for a few weeks and he was going to lose a shitload of money.

As soon as he mentioned Dolly’s name Roache’s ears had pricked up, remembering the new bird knocking about with old snooty knickers O’Hagan. Pretty little thing she was too, he recalled, as he sat at the end of the bar, staring at a newspaper, pretending to be absorbed in the news but taking in everything that was being said.

Trevor was a knob, as far as Roache was concerned. Cocky as you like, he was forever flashing his money about as if he was loaded; even if he was just getting a round in he would make a point of paying with a big wedge of notes from his back pocket, waving it around so that everyone knew how well he was doing. And he clearly was doing well, so little Dolly must be raking it in for him, Roache had thought. His best girl, was she? Roache had felt himself getting a boner just thinking about the power he would have over the dirty little mare if he could make her believe that Trevor had set up an arrangement whereby she would keep him satisfied during her stay. It would certainly make a nice change from getting noshed off by the usual munters in there.

It had been easy. He had a long, elaborate story all planned out, but as soon as he had mentioned Trevor’s name to Dolly she had believed his words without so much as a question of doubt. All beauty and no brains, it turned out.

Now, as Roache rolled around the floor in pain, he wondered if it had been worth the agro: the stupid bitch had proved to be more trouble than she was worth.

Seeing Dolly make a run for the door, frantically twisting the key that was still sitting in the lock, Roache grabbed at her foot. She tripped and lost her balance, falling with an almighty thud. Whacking her face on the floor, she tasted blood as one of her front teeth pierced her lip. Feeling Roache twist the fabric of her jogging bottoms, as he grabbed onto her to stop her from escaping, she winced in pain as she tried to squirm out of his tight grip. Kicking out at him in a rage she managed to hit him straight in the face with the heel of her trainer.

Struggling to stand, Dolly dashed to the door as she wiped off the blood that spurted down her chin from the deep gouge in her throbbing lip, she glanced back at Roache to make sure he wasn’t behind her.

As she watched the pained expression deepen on his face, and the blood all over the hand that was now covering his wounded manhood, Dolly was delighted. She hoped that after the weeks of torment that he had put her through that he hurt like a bitch.

“How’s that for paying off a debt?” she asked, with feigned innocence. “Trevor says hi, by the way and I’m sure by now you’ve worked out that you’re in a whole world of shit when he gets hold of you.”

Dolly smiled sweetly before pressing the alarm on the cell wall and slamming the door shut as she left. Leaving him to squirm alone in agony, she prepared her tears for when the other officers came running. Roache had already made a name for himself as a bully and a womaniser. It wouldn’t be the first time Cockroach had tried it on with one of the girls in here, but she was determined to make sure it was his last. Going by the state of him lying on the cell floor with his bleeding cock in his hand, there was no way that other officers would be able to turn a blind eye to his antics now.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Get in,” Trevor growled, as he flung the back door open after watching Dolly totter over to the car in the same black lace top and miniskirt that she had worn when she had entered the prison.

Dolly sank into the back seat. She waited for Trevor to dish out an earful once more about her ignoring him.

“You look like a right fucking mess,” Jono, Trevor’s driver, said, as he glanced at Dolly’s face in the rear-view mirror before revving the engine and pulling away from the prison gates.

“Oh, do I? Maybe I should write a letter of complaint, see if I can get a refund on all those fucking spa treatments. And I seriously do not recommend the lip fillers...” Dolly couldn’t stand Jono. Jono had been Trevor’s driver for a couple of years, and Dolly knew that the pair of them were shagging. Why they tried to keep their relationship secret she had no idea, but Dolly played along pretending she knew nothing.

Of course she looked a mess: had they expected her to rock up looking rested and raring to go? She just spent three weeks holed up in a fucking shithole being pestered constantly by a perverted prison officer. She was knackered, and she needed a bath. It didn’t help that she had been made to put back on the same clobber she had worn going in. She felt, and knew she looked, dirty.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Trevor asked.

“I did what you said, didn’t I. Told Roache he was in the shit with you, and this is what I got for it. My lip’s so swollen I could give Mick Jagger a run for his money. Mind you, I ain’t joking when I say you should see the state of Roache. He won’t be sticking his todger anywhere for a while, I can tell you. Carted him off to hospital to sew it back on, last I heard,” Dolly said.

Trevor smirked: he had missed Dolly’s banter. He didn’t know any other girl that could dish it out as well as her. Then he remembered that he was still annoyed about Dolly’s lack of contact. “You poor bitch, my heart bleeds for you. Prison not quite the holiday you expected it to be?”

Dolly shrugged; prison had certainly been anything but a holiday. “I just need to get home and get a bath. Then I’ll be fine.”

There was no response. Dolly sighed, knowing that Trevor had no sympathy for her so there was no point in playing on the fact that she felt like a bag of hot shit.

“Oh no, Dolly my darling. We ain’t got time for that this morning. You have places you need to be, my girl.” Trevor smiled nastily, as Dolly realised what he was getting at.

Trevor thought about the money that Dolly would earn for him. Her punters had been gagging for her release. “Your three weeks off has left some of your customers feeling very unsatisfied, Dolly. Poor buggers can’t wait to get their nuts in. You’re going to be a very busy girl over the next few days.”

Dolly leaned her head back against the seat. It would be more agro than it was worth to argue with Trevor in the mood that he was clearly in. He had said that he was going to make sure that she was taught a lesson for avoiding him while she was inside, so she had been expecting him to do something like this. He was a man of his word, if nothing else.

They drove for fifteen minutes in silence; then Jono pulled into a lay-by at the back of an industrial estate and said: “This is it, isn’t it?”

“How long will you be?” Trevor asked, as Jono got out of the car.

“If all goes to plan, twenty minutes max,” Jono said through the open driver’s window, as he felt for his flick-knife in his pocket.

“Good. Me and Dolly will have that chat while you’re gone,” Trevor replied, as he took the car keys from Jono in case they had to make a move in a hurry. You never knew when a pig car would turn up, and Trevor always liked to be prepared.

“Now then, time for you to make amends, Dolly darling,” Trevor said, as he locked the car doors and ordered Dolly to undress. Tipping a line of cocaine onto his hand, he watched as Dolly did as she was told.

Trevor had spent the past three weeks listening to all of Dolly’s regular punters bang on about her being the best shag they had ever had and Trevor had started to wonder about having a go himself. Trevor had a fondness for Dolly, partly because she had turned out to be a little money-making machine, raking in quadruple what the other girls earned each day, but there was also something about her that he really liked. Unlike the other girls, Dolly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. But though she got away with a lot more than most would, she always seemed to know when to shut up and do as she was told. It had been years since he and Dolly had been near each other, though. The last time he had fucked her had been when he had groomed her to work with him, eight years ago. It was the way he lured all of his girls, until he got them under his spell. He thought that was why he usually preferred men. Women had lost their appeal and his respect. They were far too gullible, and far too easy.

No one knew that he preferred men to women. He liked to keep his private business exactly that. And with all those girls on tap, people were never suspicious of his sexual predilections.

Her breasts exposed, Dolly stared blankly at Trevor as he snorted the coke. She refused the line he offered her, so Trevor had both.

“Now, Dolly, you’ve a lot of making up to do to me,” Trevor said, as he placed her hand on his crotch and let her do what she apparently did best. Closing his eyes, he smiled to himself. Dolly had no idea how busy she was going to be today. After she had satisfied him, and he was by no means going to make that an easy task, he had arranged ten calls for her. He had booked her up all day.

Sex wasn’t always about gratification: sometimes it was about power. The cheeky little mare wouldn’t be so quick to ignore him next time.