Monday, September 12, 2005

"The Prison Secretary" by John C., Chapter 2/3

The Prison Secretary ch. 02

The moonlight that had so beautifully illuminated Angela's soft, luscious curves through the laced curtained window of her bedroom was also beaming through the steel barred windows of the barracks. Inmate “Anderson Sean R.” was lying back upon his bunk wearing only white boxer shorts while having a very difficult time getting to sleep. As the hours ticked by and a storm began brewing outside, he had lost track of what time it was. He just knew that as tired as he was he didn't feel like sleeping. Even though he had heard that the boot camp would be a more controlled environment than a regular penitentiary and that sexual assaults weren't as frequent, somehow, that thought didn't seem to give him much comfort.

Lights out had been at 9:00 PM which seemed way too early to go to sleep. He wasn't used to it. If only he hadn't sold that meth to the undercover cop he would be at this very moment partying with his friends and arrogantly cruising the city for drugs and girls. That life was all over now. He looked about the darkened barracks; the bunk beds arranged in neat rows. There were twenty on each side and a footlocker in the front and back of each bunk. The floor shined with a recently buffed and polished gleam. A door with a barred window was the only way in and out of the room. He could see a light just outside from the night supervisor/jailer.

Every part of his life from now on would be regulated. He would have absolutely no freedom or privacy. It was what the facility referred to as a "total control" program. He would have to ask permission even to speak and he would always have to address himself in the third person as "inmate Anderson." On top of that he would also have to address the staff of the facility as either “sir” or “ma'am.”

The inmate in the bunk next to his had been snoring annoyingly for some time and there was nothing he could do about it. He had already had a confrontation with that particular individual before at the county jail and he was not in a hurry for it to be repeated. He remembered how it had been late one night at the county jail. He had been in a cell with six other inmates where he had laid down on the floor trying to come to terms with the fact that he was caged and no longer free. He had been using a role of toilet paper as a pillow when it was suddenly kicked away from underneath his head.

"What the fuck is going on?" He had said, half asleep.

The inmate ignored him as he picked up the toilet paper role that he had kicked away. He was a well built young black male who's Christian name was Clarence but who went by the name "T-bone." He seemed to look like the quintessential gang member with his various tattoos. He was rumored to be a member of the Black Gangster Disciples and he had rarely spoken to anyone since he had entered the jail cell. Sean knew that he couldn't let the offense go as every one of his actions was being watched and judged by the other inmates as he was being assessed for his weaknesses.

"I said what the fuck are you doing!" He said louder. The inmate turned around and immediately got into Sean's face.

"I need this motherfucker so I can use the shitter, you got a problem with that ya little white BITCH!" He had yelled back.

Sean tried to stare him down but every part of his body was gripped with fear. He knew this guy could easily kill him. But there was simply no way he could back down. Not with the other inmates watching.

"Fuck you!" he had foolishly replied as he tried to grab the role of toilet paper from the man's hand.

Instantly Sean felt as if a semi truck had hit him in the face. Before he knew it he was laying on the floor in agony, his left eye blind. It hurt so badly he had wondered if he would even see out of it ever again. He immediately tried to get up but was punched yet again, this time in the mouth knocking loose one of his bottom teeth. Blood oozed from his lips and gums as he lay holding his face in pain.

"You done now you bitch!" T-bone had said. Sean didn't respond as he continued holding his face while grunting. "I said are you done now YOU PUSSY!"

"Yes," said Sean, defeated.

The inmate stepped on Sean as he walked over to use the toilet. Sean slept the rest of that night on the floor of the cell in pain, needless to say T-bone never returned the role of toilet paper. The very next day he got into yet another skirmish with another inmate. This inmate sensing Sean's weakness from the night before tried to test him. This time however he was prepared and beat him down. At least he had been able to save some face among his peers. The corrections officers had asked Sean about the bruises on his face but he knew better then to answer them truthfully or rat anyone out.

Sean couldn't deny that T-bone terrified him. He seemed as if he could murder someone and not think twice about it. He didn't seem like he was the type that belonged in a correctional boot camp facility. He was definitely a hardcore gang member, possibly even a gang leader. When T-bone had taken off his shirt earlier in the day he had noticed several healed puncture wounds on his chest. When another inmate had asked if he had been shot he had nodded no. Sean overheard T-bone describe his gang initiation ceremony which basically consisted of his fellow gang members beating the shit out of him.

"Yeah I was on the fuckin ground and they were punchin and stompin," T-Bone had said. "And one motherfucker decided to wear cleats that day. That's why my chest is all fucked up!"

And this was the inmate that was now sleeping in the very bunk next to Sean's as he would be for the next few months. Worse still was after T-Bone had kicked his ass, he then branded him with the pseudonym "peckerhead" from that point on. They had showered right before lights out and T-bone was mocking him in front of the other inmates stating how "peckerhead" would look good as their lingerie model for the next couple of months. Sean knew he would have to beat up some other inmates very soon, else become the platoon "bitch." He had always thought of himself as a tough rebel who hated authority. Growing up in his middleclass neighborhood simply hadn't prepared him to deal with real criminals. Many of his fellow bunkmates were young men who had to fight for everything they've ever had; even the smallest of things.

Sean lay in his bunk touching his face where his bruises were healing. His muscles in his arms and legs ached. They had formed platoons earlier that day and had rigorously worked out for hours, running and doing endless pushups and so forth. And they were promised it would be even tougher tomorrow. He ran his hand along his scalp and still was not used to feeling only the little bit of peach fuzz that they had left him with. What a humiliating experience that receiving room had been, he thought to himself. To have to strip down right in front of everyone, in front of women, in front of............her. No, he wouldn't think about her anymore. But it was no use, she began to flood his mind the same way that anything of true beauty would illuminate a miserable environment.

The instant he began reflecting upon her he felt his loins begin to surge. She looked SO GOOD, he thought, so much better than he had last remembered her. He couldn't even believe it was her. But there was no denying that she was none other than Angela Prescott; that same gawky girl that he and his buddies had made fun of from time to time. She had been a chubby girl with the thick glasses and a bad complexion, now here she was in her new thinner, more shapely, unblemished and unbifocaled glory.

She was the first attractive women he had seen in weeks. Her legs were so perfect and as loose as her blouse was her tits seemed to fill it perfectly. She was easily a D cup. She was perfectly hour glassed shaped; her ass filled out her skirt beautifully and made it a pleasure to watch her walk. Her face was so hot with her long sultry brown hair, mysterious eyes and those lips..."Oh god those lips!" he thought to himself. His dick immediately began to fill with blood as he imagined her sensuous lips wrapping around it and her tongue caressing it. He gripped his swelling organ in his hand.

The smell of her perfume still seemed to linger in his nose as he began discretely rubbing his cock as not to attract attention from the other inmates. He had to be careful as his bunk squeaked from the slightest movement. He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't have even given Angela the time of day in high school. Now here he was, his dick which was seven inches erect but feeling even bigger now, fully swelled with Angela Prescott's name written all over it.

Even worse was the fact that she possessed the very look that he most desired in women. She was his ideal lady with her voluptuous yet firm curves. Had he seen her on the street he would have immediately and arrogantly approached her and tried to retrieve a phone number. However here he couldn't even touch her, not even look upon her without being immediately confronted by guards who could break his neck with their bare hands. Here he would have to be very respectful to all the women on staff and refer to them as "ma'am." And even in the very remote chance that he would be in a situation where he could speak to her, he would first have to request her permission to even be allowed to speak at all. His fist slowly worked away as he rubbed his very stiff member as he looked from side to side to make sure he had some privacy. Of all the places to meet his perfect idea of a woman, why here? Why here behind barbed wire where his head had been shaved, where he couldn't even piss without asking permission and where he was powerless to do anything but drool and yearn for her while being called "peckerhead." He rubbed his cock faster, her face and body haunting him terribly.

He had stripped himself naked right in front of her, and it was only his fear and embarrassment that kept him from getting a massive hard-on right there for all to see. One quick savoring glance was all that was allowed to him before he had been ordered on the floor. How humiliating it had been to have to do pushups while stark naked and at her feet. He only prayed that she did not recognize him. He had wanted to crawl to her and feel her shapely thighs in his hands. He had so wanted to pin her down on the table and fuck her right there.

As he continued jerking-off, he thought of kissing her mouth, ripping open her skirt and blouse and burying his head into her perfect tits. He fantasized about her caressing his sore muscles and pressing her beautiful breasts onto his chest as they went at it. His cock was becoming so hard it was beginning to throb and hurt. He could imagine her licking him, taking him fully into her mouth. He began to stroke himself harder, his mattress squeaking loudly. He didn't care any longer, he had to have relief from the lust she had so effortlessly instilled in him. A few of the other guys had already whacked-off that night. He had heard the other inmates talking about her, making obscene remarks about the white secretary and also the female corrections officer. He wondered if they had masturbated while thinking of Angela. For some bizarre reason that thought made him very jealous.

He began to breathe harder as the volcano of desire for her began to build in his body. He hadn't even touched another woman for months. He wanted to gyrate his hips into her, then turn her over and do her doggy style, his pelvis slapping up against her ass. He could feel himself about to cum as he jerked-off furiously, his cock painfully erect. He was about to burst with longing for her, only a few strokes more and there would be long squirts of cum all over his stomach as he imagined her licking him. Suddenly the barrack's lights flickered on.

"GET UP!!" yelled an officer to the entire room. "Its 4:30AM get your motherfucking asses up!!"

Sean couldn't believe it; his hands immediately left his dick as it stood throbbing, dying to be released. He immediately got out of his bunk as the rest of inmates did. He faced the wall to get dressed, his loins aching violently as his cock slapped up against his chiseled stomach.

"It's raining out so grab your ponchos, we're going to start with a two mile run!" yelled the officer. There was a groan from the inmates. "Alright you bitches, lets make it a four mile run, " replied the officer. "Anyone have any problems with that!" Not a sound emitted from anyone. "I thought not, now hurry the fuck up!"

Sean tried to calm his raging desires. He desperately wanted to spill his seed and release his passion right there while standing but couldn't. His hips involuntarily jerked forward once as if he was trying to fuck open air. It would be a very long day of strenuous activity and now the pain he felt in his testicles would be yet another burden he would have to bear. She consumed his mind, he wanted her terribly. In the months ahead she would by her mere presence put him through a lustful emotional hell. He realized as he got dressed that with Angela nearby he would be punished and humiliated far worse than any judge or corrections officer ever had in mind. At that moment he wanted to beat himself bloody for getting himself arrested. He began to fully understand the true meaning of the words incarceration and punishment in a way he never had before.

2 Comments:

At 6:28 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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