Two Months Later
"Azuma! You got a visitor!"
Fubuki had struggled waking up recently, the weight of her enormous pregnant belly leaving her exhausted after the day's hard labor. The ecstasy of her sexual discipline was a balm despite the adulteress' guilt it always brought, allowing her to eat her bland dinner of rice, vegetables, and egg before skipping free time and collapsing atop her futon. Only for sleep to be far too short as she struggled to roll up past her bloated abdomen and clean up her cell before rollcall the next morning.
She had not expected the monotony of the cycle to be so torturous. She'd lived her entire life in the military and thought herself accustomed to a tightly controlled schedule, but prison lacked so many things her lost career had not. The food was bland even through its nutrition, lacking none of the personality her unit's cooking enthusiasts had learned to employ. The constant hard labor lacked the ebb and flow, or fun of training. Aside from Tenka, her attempts to forge friendships had only left her more isolated from her fellow inmates, while the guards rightfully saw a former chief convicted of quadruple homicide as too dangerous to be soft with. To her shame, she'd had to be disciplined by a jailer's truncheon multiple times, one even forcing a baton up her ass as punishment for her infraction at the payphones. That incident had seen her stripped of her phone privileges and railed for half a day by the warden. She still didn't know how she escaped being through in solitary.
But there was no escape from what she was now. She could shout that she was innocent from the rooftops until her throat turned to dust. No one believed her. The entire world considered Fubuki Azuma as nothing but a vile convicted murderer.
'You're not my sister anymore! Don't ever call me again!'
'You murdered my wife! My daughter! I hope you die in that hole, bitch!'
'Indecent, indecent, indecent, indecent, indecent, indecent…'
She'd run out of time on her calls and broken down into tears before Himari could finish whatever her insult was, but the intent was clear enough. After losing her payphone privileges and being punished for her actions, she was tossed back in her cell and cried herself to sleep.
She'd been arrested back in September. Now, it was the end of April. Fubuki had never expected to turn forty in prison, but now she feared she'd spend the rest of her birthdays behind bars as well.
Good. She was a convict. Convicts were to be punished if the courts deemed it so. She had nothing but admiration for the warden for ensuring she served her lawful sentence even if she knew she was innocent.
But the harshness of the sentence or daily prison life was not what made life truly torturous. It was that the more she threw herself into them, into her admiration, the harder it was to keep lying to herself.
With visitation privileges finally granted to her, perhaps she could discuss the matter causing her such turmoil with her husband. She'd told him of it by letter and he'd pardoned her for her adultery, restating that she had his full permission to take a lover even under normal circumstances, but it still brought her splintered soul no solace. She needed to try apologizing in person, but all their face-to-face meetings so far had in their capacity as lawyer and client, so bringing up personal matters would have been an inexcusably improper use of their time. Maybe seeing him during this visit would finally bring her the peace she yearned for in her consecutive life sentences.
Alas, when she was brought to the visitor center booth and handcuffed to the windowsill of the pane of bulletproof glass, it was not her husband on the other side of the wired phone receiver.
"… and furthermore, if you were going to use gas in the murder at all, why not make it the murder weapon?" her mother lectured her from across the glass, as she had for nearly the full thirty minutes allowed for the visit. "You knew their peach blessings! They couldn't deal with poison gas if you caught them off guard with it! That would have left no link back to you! Think before you murder!"
"Yes, mother," Fubuki dutifully nodded.
Decades of dealing with Tobera Azuma's more excitable moments had taught her that it was often best to hold her tongue and let the immortal childlike woman tire herself out. Part of her considered simply refusing the visit when she'd learned who her visitor was, just as she'd been dodging her letters for months, but she felt it'd be disrespectful as the restored Azuma head's daughter.
Besides, as much as she ranted about how Fubuki could have committed her murders better, the older woman had never once raised the idea of disowning her. Convicted kin killer or not, to Tobera Azuma, her daughter was her daughter, and if other high-society families took issue with that, they were obviously unworthy to bask in the glory of the Azuma. Given how her attempts to reach out to her daughters and brothers had gone, it was touching to know her mother very much intended to come visit her every day she was legally allowed to and however many extra she could politick her way into getting.
Fubuki did feel sorry for Warden Wakura, who'd likely have to deal with that politicking. Even now, as he dutifully watched over the mother-daughter reunion, he looked like he'd been exhausted by Tobera's exhaustive backseat murder planning.
"One minute left, ladies," he dutifully informed them.
"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on, Chief Wakura," Tobera replied, only for a fiendish smirk to light her face. "Unless you're that eager to make further contributions to the Azuma bloodline. In that case, take those pants off and show me my lineage is in safe hands. No need to wait until the twins are out of her."
Twins. Fubuki looked down at her plump, beach ball stomach and she could still barely believe it. She'd been a mother three times before and the idea of having twins had never crossed her mind.
Historically, they were considered bad luck in Japanese society, cursed. Such a sentiment lingered among the upper crust of society, so if she'd had twins as a free woman, there would have been plentiful gossip about the cursed nature of the Azuma family. As a criminal slut though, it was almost expected. Most pregnancies under the prison's peach blessing took six months to complete, but Fubuki still had not given birth after eight. Just another disgrace.
"Thirty seconds."
"Ugh. Fine, fine," Tobera groaned, turning back to her daughter. "Try not to get shanked, will you? As much trouble as you and Maia have caused, I'll admit, it's an unexpectedly effective way to rebuild the family stronger than ever."
"Of course, mother," Fubuki demurely replied, preparing herself to put the phone back on the receiver and place her palms on the table to be taken back into the prison.
"Geez. You beating yourself up or something? With how strong you are, this place couldn't wear you down this much so fast," Tobera snorted. "Buck up. You didn't become strong and spout off all that love crap when you usurped me just become so weak. Look, if it's about your brothers' whining or Yachiko and Himari ghosting you, I'll have your soon-to-be born baby boys make goo-goo eyes at them to get them to come bury the hatchet."
"That would be nice, mother. But unnecessary if that is what they truly… feel…" Fubuki's eyes widened as she fully registered what her mother had said. "Baby… boys?"
"Time's up," Yuuki announced, stepping forward. "Inmate 00105, put the receiver in its station and place your hands on the table—"
"Boys?!" Fubuki exclaimed, ignoring her jailer and leaping to her feet. "I'm having boys?!"
Prisoners weren't allowed parental rights to the children they had in the Mato Military Women's Penitentiary, often barely allowed to hold their babies before they were taken away to the officer who impregnated them or an orphanage. Thus, the infirmary's doctors didn't bother telling the inmates the expected sex of their offspring. But the warden loved each of his babes enough to find out himself and clearly he'd informed their upcoming grandmother as well.
"00105, get back in your seat!" Yuuki barked. "Step away from the glass—"
"I'm having twin boys?!" Fubuki frantically asked her mother, not even hearing her jailer's command, even though giving a warning at all was very generous of him. "Boys?"
Tobera shrugged. "Yeah. Congrats. Don't know why you're so excited to have kids that can't get a peach blessing, but I know you'd always wanted to have at least one. Surprise! You're getting two."
Fubuki wasn't sure why the tears started falling. Maybe it was her pregnancy hormones acting up again. Maybe it was the knowledge that she'd inexcusably shamed the Azuma name again by having boys instead of girls who could advance the family by serving in the MDF. Maybe it was sinful personal happiness, because she had always wanted to raise at least one son among her children, despite the shame it'd bring to her personally.
And yet, as a criminal slut, it was expected of her to bring such disgrace. She could only fail her duty as a daughter, as a wife, more and more. She couldn't even make sure her bastard was a girl.
"I once told Himari that if she kept on fighting while she was weak, before she dragged the Azuma name through the mud, I would do my duty as her mother and put her down," she murmured, recalling the moment she'd been desperate to encourage her daughter to compete in the Azuma banquet and showcase her strength. "Maybe, once my sons are born, I should perform that duty on myself, before I besmirch the family name even further—Ah!"
SMACK!
A forceful spank struck Fubuki's bountiful asscheeks, the buxom mother's doughy rear rippling within her skintight orange inmate jumpsuit. She yelped forward, her round, pregnant belly pressing up against the bulletproof glass. A familiar muscular form towered over her, unlatching her handcuffed wrists from the table in front of her and wrenching them behind her back. Strapping young arms undid the privates latch of her uniform and wrapped around the imprisoned chief, rubbing her globular stomach and fat, bloated mammaries. His hot breath tingled her ivory neck as she glanced back at his stern face, his familiar bulbous tip pressing into her sodden petals, already soaked for him despite her confusion.
"W—warden?" she stammered.
"You are mine to punish. Not your own," Yuuki growled, his command iron and unassailable to her soul, her darkest ponderings instantly obliterated. "Your guilt should only be for your crimes. You only need to be rehabilitated for your crimes. The punishment, or your feelings during it, are not something you need forgiveness for."
"Need 'forgiveness'? That's what this is about? Good grief. Only you would somehow find a way to be ashamed of your own strength, Fubuki. If you're strong enough to enjoy the punishment, then the joy is yours. Stop limiting yourself with useless crap like… ugh… morals," Tobera groaned, the elder in a child's body sticking out her tongue at the word's awful taste. "We are Azuma. If we are pruned, we are pruned. But we make no apologies for flourishing."
Pruned? Yes, that described her current state quite succinctly. Once a MDF Chief and Azuma Family Head, once one of the most powerful women in Japan, she had been brought low because her efforts to spread love and healing throughout a family traumatized by her mother's unforgiving meritocracy had been insufficient to convince her brothers' wives that she had no secret agenda to harm them. Now she was nothing but a forty-year-old disgraceful whore with twin bastard sons growing in her belly as she served consecutive life sentences for quadruple capital murder. She'd been framed but no one believed her, not truly. Not even her daughters or her mother.
Why was she still bothering to hold herself to some higher standard? A standard that didn't even exist in the eyes of the people who really mattered to her, just the society that had locked her up in prison and thrown away the key. Why did she cling to the idea that her enjoyment of her adultery was a sin?
Because as the warden's cock burrowed through her quim to punish her for her disobedience, she could no longer lie to herself. She did enjoy it. She loved it.
And she loved the man who did it to her, god help her.
"Ah! Ah! Aaahh!!!" Fubuki cried, her plump pregnant belly smacking against the glass as her arresting officer slammed into her from behind, his staunch pelvis smashing her pillowy backside. Heavy thwaps and thunderous claps echoed throughout the visitor center, the beautiful handcuffed felon succumbing to ecstasy almost instantly. "Warden! Oh, warden, yes! Warden, I love—Mmmmm!"
Yuuki seized her hair before she could finish, yanked her head back, and smashed his lips down on the elegant older woman's own. Fubuki's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth nibbled and pried apart for her jailer's tongue to invade. But as her own slobbery pink muscle was soon accosted and arrested in its own home, the sultry lady of the Azuma family purred for her conquering captor. His saliva swabbed with his as her nostrils sucked up his dominating musk.
"Hahaha! Excellent! Excellent!" Tobera laughed, ecstatic to watch her pregnant daughter handcuffed and pounded by a man half her age. "Fuck her, Yuuki Wakura! Fuck her like the breeding whore she is! The Azuma Family will grow strong from your seed! Haha!"
"Mmmmm!" Fubuki moaned, the buxom convict hot and quivering as she was brought to rapture before her mother. Her handcuffed wrists pressed up against the warden's sculpted abdomen as he pinned the pregnant criminal against him, kissing her like a whore as his cock pilfered her like a husband performing his rights with his most precious wife. "Mmmm, waaarrrdddeeeennnn!!!!"
The former chief of the Ninth Division crumbled in climax, her puffy, velvet loins convulsing as they were stretched. Her black leather high heel boots clattered against the floor as she was battered against the visitor booth's glass, vivacious thrusts hammering her fertile, bloated womb. Nirvana drowned the voluptuous criminal beauty, the expectant mother finally surrendering to what she was. A murderer, yes. A convicted felon serving consecutive life sentences, that too of course.
But more than that, she was an adulteress. She was a cheating whore of a wife who'd been knocked up with bastard twin boys and was hungry for more. And it was time she stopped hating herself for it when she loved it, when she loved the cock of the younger man breaking her on its titanium shaft. She'd thought Yuuki Wakura was an adorable young man since she met him, but she'd assumed he just might make a fine match for one of her daughters. She'd expected Himari to become his lover, their friendship blooming through their heroic devotion to the corps.
Never did Fubuki imagine that she'd one day be his mistress, that he'd slap her in handcuffs and rape her alongside her eldest daughter as a murderer, knocking her up with new babies just after he'd seeded her first grandchild. Never did the voluptuous mother imagine that she'd be sentenced to spend the rest of her life in a cage with his gargantuan cock carving through her slobbery cunt. Never did she imagine he'd kiss her so possessively as he fucked her in front of her mother, the curaveous noblewoman having been pumped pregnant by a man the same age as her daughters. Never did she imagine he'd be so dedicated to keeping her in line, to helping the salacious Convict 00105 rehabilitate herself and pay her debt to society as a model inmate.
As a model criminal slut, her married pussy squelching at his call.
"Mmmmoooo!!!" Fubuki moaned into his kiss, her plump body shuddering in her tightly stretched inmate jumpsuit, her orange coveralls barely containing her muscular, pregnant form. She sang with euphoria as a river of hot cream surged into her twisting quim, her wrists jingling in her handcuffs. It was heavenly, a final acceptance of her nature as a cheating whore having children with a man half her age, no longer having to hate herself for adoring her punishment.
Of course, then her womb started clenching in a way she was intimately familiar with. Specifically, three times before.
She purred as the warden pulled out of their kiss, a strand of saliva linking their lips. Her cheeks were drowned in a deep red blush, the regal corps woman suddenly feeling like a nervous schoolgirl in the arms of her crush. "Oh… warden… My water just broke."
Yuuki's eyes widened. "What?!"
"Orgasms can jumpstart labor," Tobera cackled. "Grandbabies incoming!"
Fubuki diverted her eyes, fearful that she'd made another error in her repentance. "My apologies, sir. I thought you'd want to know—Oh!"
The forty-year-old woman gasped as the warden swiftly recovered from her information and scooped her up into his arms. Fubuki's face flushed as she was carried like a blushing new bride in the arms of her muscular husband. As she was raced away to the prison infirmary to give birth to her beautiful sons, the gorgeous convict allowed her eyes to list closed as she leaned against her jailer's chest and smiled.
Kyouka had been his girlfriend since the corrupt Eighth Division members were brought in. Tenka was his prison wife. But Fubuki couldn't help but wonder if he'd be open to her becoming his prison mistress. For despite her many failures to be a model inmate and the severe charges against her, he still remained committed to her rehabilitation, willing to see her as a woman as well as a criminal slut.
Yet, she would be the finest of criminal sluts for him. His married adulteress whore doing life in prison as Inmate 00105.