Mariah's Dangerous Therapy Session

Mariah was nervous as she stepped into the prison cell, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been hired as a therapist by the prison to work with the inmates, but this was not what she had expected. As she looked around, she saw a tall, muscular man sitting on his bunk, staring at her with intense eyes.

"Who are you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"I'm Mariah, your new therapist," she said, forcing a smile.

"Therapist? Shit, what do I need therapy for?" he sneered, eyeing her up and down.

Mariah could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. She knew what this man was capable of, and she had heard the rumors about him among the other inmates.

"You're here because the warden thinks you need someone to talk to," Mariah said, trying to sound confident. "There's nothing wrong with seeking help when you need it."

The man laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "You got some nerve, coming in here trying to play therapist. But, I gotta say, you're a fine piece of ass, and I could use a little stress relief."

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What happens next?