Page 6

Chapter four

Kace

Present Day

I won’t lie; I struggled to keep my focus on that damn wall. Eventually, however, I finished it and good ol’ Officer Pierce cuffed me just to escort me to my class. I know she does this just for the fun of it versus going to her post on C-Block where she belongs.

Like she said, I had a few hours to make up for. Now? I am almost three hours late. She docked me another one for daydreaming.

Can you believe that shit?

I guess she could have been a true wench today and not let me work at all, and that would have cut into my funds. Which makes me think she relocated my commissary again; one of her favorite ways to screw with me. When she gets quiet, I know she is scheming. I don’t know what I did to get on her bad side, but here I am, and I am so fucking over it.

Dropped off at my class, I took a seat at the back after grabbing a single piece of paper and a pencil. The local college partnered with Darkwater to allow Doctorate teaching students to come into the facility and put on classes in various subjects. While other inmates had to start with the basics such as math, English, history, and science, I am well into college level courses.

Just so happens, this is a Criminal Justice class. What do convicts like me get out of a class like this? They hope to find some sort of loophole to end their sentencing. Unfortunately, they usually fail, which sucks for them, but occasionally someone wins their hearing and are released with strict regulations.

Then there are the ones who can’t seem to stay out of trouble and get tossed back into jail. A few of them have managed to be released more than once and when they return, they earn the title of a ‘frequent flier,’ we even have a welcome home party.

Kidding.

Me though? I just like learning. The inmate population calls people like me ‘programmers.’ We are always looking for the next thing to make us better, smarter, more efficient humans. I prefer to keep my ass out of sight and out of mind, so what better way to do that with a life sentence than to study?

Today the professor is covering deterrence theory, which is a whole failure in the United States. It’s a theory that argues for punishment to prevent crime. If the growing prison population is any indication, deterrence theory is a failure.

Either way, I’m still here learning. I guess I should be grateful, right? I mean, since my education is free while there are people out there who pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to get the same education I’m obtaining.

What annoys the absolute hell out of me is that this class is ending in about thirty minutes, and I’m going to have to beg for some sort of material to catch up on. Begging wasn’t ever my thing, but it seems like the longer I am here, the more I find myself doing just that. All thanks to Nadia keeping me longer than I should have. This day has turned out to be one thing right after another.

Once Professor Mark—an ethnic man with a close-cut shave and a build many people yearn for—finished his lesson, my classmates dispersed while I approached the front with my hands visible. Just like we have all been instructed to do, while also maintaining a distance of six feet or more; the guards are very particular about space and safety measures.

“Professor.”

“Kace. Late arrival today.”

“Yeah, another run in with the AB. Then was late to my job assignment. Typical day.”

He arched a bushy, yet shapely, brow at me. His deep coffee hued eyes assessing the new bruises that have formed over the past few hours. I looked like a damn mess, to be frank.

“I see. I hoped you would have benefited from our lecture today.”

“Same. Do you happen to have notes I could copy and maybe a reading assignment? You know this class matters to me.”

“Let me talk it over with your CO, then we can go from there.”

“Fuck.”

Reaching a hand up, I ran it through my unruly white-blond strands. He wasn’t going to get anything past Nadia, but I knew why he had to do it, protocol and all.

“Can I just come in and make up time? Officer Pierce likely won’t allow me take anything back to my cage.”

“Sure, I’ll be here an hour early next week, and we can squeeze some time in beforehand. Kace…”

Professor Mark stalled momentary, tilting his head to the side as he looked me over once more. For someone only a few years older than me, he sure as hell tries to take on a parental role, which didn’t feel all that strange, oddly enough. He is one of those men who only wanted the best for others, me included.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“… nothing. Don’t be late next week. Understood?”

“Of course.”

Taking a few steps back, I turned and made my way to the door.

It was getting close to dinner time which meant everyone will be flocking to the cafeteria soon. It also means it will be our second to last head count for the day. Something the whole prison body takes part in multiple times a day, making sure inmates are where they are supposed to be and are not trying to escape.

Opening the door to the lecture room with a hard shove, the metal banged against whoever was standing on the other side. Wincing, I looked around the door preparing for some sort of fight if it was an inmate, but wouldn’t you know, it’s a guard.

Great.

“Shit, Officer Zurita. I’m sorry.”

“Should be more cautious of what the fuck you’re doing, inmate,” he grunted, staring down his curved nose at me. His beady eyes having seen more than his fair share of illegal activity within these walls. If he is anything like other officers, he has dabbled, too. I have a feeling Nadia does. He may not be her, but he’s still her partner and they are both on my ass, constantly.

“My apologies, Officer. Sometimes the door gets a little stuck and we must use some force to get through it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Where the hell is your escort?”

“Escort?”

“Don’t play stupid. I don’t have the patience for it, Patton.”

“I…”

“I’m here, inmate,” Nadia crooned, stepping out from behind Zurita.

“Found her,” I teased, incapable of hiding my smirk.

Zurita glared at me again. It’s like they are playing some sort of game amongst themselves and I just haven’t caught on; I-know-something-you-don’t-know , if you wanted to call that a game.

It still bewildered me that the prison hired someone of Nadia’s stature. By no means was she short, maybe five foot nine or ten, and she was a good 195 pounds dry—her gear likely put another ten on her. I used to be into those stick skinny girls with bones protruding out at their hips and ribs. Don’t ask why, we’re just going to blame society. Nadia though, she has some meat on her; not too little, not too much. I could eat her alive if she ever wanted to exit Robo Cop mode and wiggle out of her uniform.

Nothing makes an inmate feral like pussy walking through the halls. The longer I am in prison, the lower my standards drop. If Zurita didn’t watch out, I might start giving him bedroom eyes, too.

I’m joking.

“I can take it from here, Zurita,” Nadia assured while moving to the left of me and immediately grabbing hold of my wrists.

I knew this dance. Remain still, let her throw me against the wall… or floor… cuff me and drag me around. Just like a chained dog learning to walk on a leash.

Come here, baby girl, I’ll bark. Woof-woof.

Sighing, Zurita nodded and walked off, leaving me alone with the spawn of Satan.

“I think he’s jealous. Maybe you should give him some of your attention.”

Without a word, I was pushed to the wall and my feet were kicked apart while she finished cuffing my wrists together–a little tighter than she did earlier today. Unable to hold in my chuckle, I sighed and tilted my head forward until it pressed against the wall.

“Something funny inmate?” she asked, patting the outside of my thighs before her hands reached between them and got a little too close to my balls. Likely checking for a pencil or a pen I may have snagged from the lecture room.

“Nah, nothing’s funny. Just noticed you’re getting predictable. How else are you going to torture me unless you keep me on edge?”

“Wasn’t aware you were into that sort of thing, Patton,” she retorted.

“What kind of things?”

My brows furrowed momentarily, trying to decipher what in the hell she meant. She, could be unpredictable, so I never knew what to expect. I felt her crouch down to check my ankles, her hands steadily sliding down the insides of my legs. Those cold fingers pulling the orange fabric of my jumper up to expose them like a Victorian harlot; I feel like a slut.

Still confused, I go to speak but my breath was sucked from my lungs when I felt her hand slide under the fabric this time; way out of her normal routine. They then moved up the inside of my legs.

“Edging, inmate.”

“I… I…” Stupid words stammering.

What the hell is she doing?

“Oh, that got you to shut up? What, inmate, cat got your tongue?”

“No… I just… fuck,” I hissed when she gripped the front of my crotch, making me wince.

“Ease the fuck up, death grip. Jesus Christ!”

“You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

Heat seared up the sides of my neck, from both interest and anger, we’re going to call it a normal reaction. Who the hell did this bitch think she is? I am aware that I have little to no rights here, and I may have fantasized about her a time or two, but come on.

“Hands to yourself, Nadia.”

My words coming out with a bit of a bite.

“Or what, Patton? What will you do? See…”

She stalled, running her hand down my inseam then back up. Her opposite hand coming to assist, using the guise of a pat down and the shelter of the wall as coverage to squeeze me through the front of my jumper.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking SHIT.

My breathing picked up as I pulled away from the wall, looking between the front of my body and the concrete— watching her nimble hands work over my stiffening cock. This is one hell of a predicament; I half wanted to shove her off, but god dammit I ache all over, and I am a lucky bastard that it’s a woman playing with me and not one of these men.

“… inmate. You’re so… relaxed in this place, unlike the other convicts. Always walking around here in your little bubble, free from drama, and so comfortable in your skin. I bet… under all this there’s something hostile lingering in there, which I really-really want to see.”

Listening to her while steadily watching the front of my jumper tent, like the pathetic man I am, I thrust my hips forward. Though the rough barrier between her hands and my flesh chafing me, I am starving for touch and hers feels so fucking good.

Feed me, Nadia, please.

“There’s… fuck,” I groaned. “Nothing— I’m just serving my time.”

“Mhm. Maybe I could find a bit of motivation for you, yeah? Perhaps knowing how worthless you are. You were supposed to be the man in your family, right? Mommy dearest and little sister looking up to you to keep them safe and protected. Yet, you’re here. Getting the shit beat out of you on the daily. How pitiful can you be to lose your freedom then allow other men to beat you down.”

Her words stung, their pain swirling with arousal in the pit of my stomach, confusing the remainder of my body. My cock pinned in her grip, one that keeps getting tighter as she spoke, making me pant and thrust again.

“S… stop, Nadia.”

“Stop what, inmate?’

“Talking… touching me. Just… leave me alone.”

“You sure? It seems like your body is enjoying this. I bet if I give you a little bit more, you’ll bust like a pubescent boy— so eager and premature.”

My thighs began to tremble as I stood there, thrusting into her hand. My own remained cuffed securely behind my back preventing me from reaching out and holding onto the wall. Nothing stopped me from pulling at the restraints, especially when she squeezed the very tip of my dick through my clothing. Humiliation stained my face in an embarrassing red color, leading up to the shell of my ears.

She is right, I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer before finding release. Tilting my head back until I looked up at the ceiling, I closed my eyes. There isn’t much of a way out of this without physically harming her, and even though I have done far worse to someone else, I couldn’t do it to her.

Never her.

“N… Nadia. Please.”

“Oh, Kace, I like the sound of that. Come for me, like the pathetic fucking prisoner you are and I’ll let you go to the cafeteria. Covered in yourself, absolutely fucking filthy.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Thrust.

I hate this bitch.

Thrust.

Just… can’t... stop.

Thrust.

“Nadia,” I breathed out as my body grew tense. My cock swelling in her grip, balls drawing up tight as white-hot pleasure ripped through me. I instantly sank my teeth into my bottom lip to muffle the sound of my orgasm as it threatened to fall from my mouth.

Squirt after squirt of cum wet the inside of my jumper, my blood roaring in my ears, as I tried to force myself down from the high of endorphins. Feeling her hands let go, I finally leaned forward against the wall. Every muscle in my body feeling relief while simultaneously losing its starch.

“Get it together, inmate. It’s time for you to be on the count,” Nada snapped.

She quickly yanked at my cuffs before my legs decided to work, making me stumble, only to drag my deplorable ass down the hallway.

Yes ma’am, anything you say ma’am.

The cafeteria is lively as always. The slamming of metal trays against the tops of the tables, grown ass men grunting like they’re throwing around weights at the gym, and the ever-present sound of my heart racing in my ears.

Docs call that tinnitus, right?

All I can think about is whatever the hell happened in the hallway. I don’t consider myself an unlucky man, but I could have stopped it. Right? Right. I’m grown, not a tiny thing. I work out in my cell. Push-ups and squats are what get me going in the morning. I’m a 39-year-old guy and she’s smaller than me. I could have taken her; I just didn’t want to. At least that’s what I keep telling myself all while staring down into the slop on my tray. I don’t know what type of poison they are feeding us today but it looked like some sort of cream-based soup and some dry ass cornbread.

When you’re locked up, you learn to eat anything that is put in front of you. For some inmates it’s bland food, for others its drugs, and for some it’s body parts. I’m not talking about cannibalism or anything, which I am sure someone around here does, but these men swing whichever way gets their dick wet. I guess when you’re that desperate for human contact, you will take anything you can get.

Doesn’t make me any better— I just got my rocks off with a guard.

It’s safe to say that we are all touch starved but I’m not, not anymore at least. She took care of that. Now I just need to find a way to keep her far from me; her hand felt so fucking good that I’m disgusted with myself on how sleazy I was acting.

She humiliated me, took advantage of me, touched what wasn’t hers to touch, but fuuuuuuuuck me…. I’d let her do it again.

No, the hell I won’t! The other side of me bites back.

Unable to contain my groan, my hands come up and run through my hair as if they had a mind of their own. Clenching somewhat and pulling at the platinum-colored strands just before I huff. What do I do now? Pretend like nothing happened?

“Yooooo, cotton top, what’s poppin’?”

Releasing my hair, I looked towards the direction that accented voice came from. Holding onto his tray, his jumper slung low on his hips, white wife-beater covering the top half of him; orange is definitely his color.

“Matias, what’s up man?” I asked, watching as he got closer and tossed a leg over the table bench, so sure of himself.

Matias Ayala, the only friend I have in here. Half the time I wouldn’t consider him that, he’s just one of the only inmates that doesn’t like to fuck with me. He’s in his early 30’s, Hispanic, broad shoulders with ink that covers every square inch of visible skin outside of his face. He has a girl at home who has a Jody of her own, and I hate to hear that she is unfaithful but when society caters to sex, this is what you get.

Matias is in here for gutting a few police officers. Apparently, one slapped his abuela around and he, being a runner for the Cartel, wasn’t having any of it. So, he ambushed the two officers, drugged them, beat them senseless for a few days then used a bread knife to saw them open. Story is, he had the guts of one tied around the others neck until he passed out and just kept repeating it until he died. Again, that’s a story. People make up shit in prison all the time, paint a worse picture of themselves; self-preservation they say. When you operate on a crime of passion, or anger in his case, it’s kill first and play later— he was a badass through and through.

“You sitting alone again, amigo?”

“Always, you know I have no interest in forming ties here. It’s get in and get out.”

“Hah! You’re not getting out of here my friend,” Matias drawled, that thick Hispanic accent accompanying his words. He turned to his tray and started shoveling the food into his mouth, sans manners. I’m sure this will go over like a lead balloon when the skinheads look over. I’ve never played their stupid race games but they still insert themselves into my bubble. That’s why Matias was so fond of me, but that is a different story for a different day.

“You doing alright? Saw you pullin’ at that hair of yours again. Something on your mind?”

Perceptive fuck.

“Nah, was late to that Criminal Justice class and didn’t get any notes down so I have to show up early next week before class starts to catch up,” I replied.

“That female officer still gunning for you?”

I stalled, becoming silent despite the ruckus of the cafeteria. I may have mentioned Nadia’s behavior towards me a time or two, if you want to call it that. She’s just hateful and needs to find someone to torture for the hell of it. I’m the lucky schmuck that gets her undivided attention— at least I know she doesn't hate me entirely. Snatching up my spoon, I glared down at the… what the fuck is this again? Soup? And dig in.

“Always, man, always. Enough about me, how’s your girl?”

“Fuck that puta, I know she’s fuckin’ someone on the outside. Looks like he slaps her around a bit, too. Last time she came to visitation she had a busted lip. Serves her right, if you ask me. Shouldn’t take dick unless you’re attached to it, ya know?”

“Not at all, Matias.” I laughed.

“Anyway, Kace, chow isn’t why I sat down. Word on the street is that the brotherhood is trying to sell you for information on the kinfolk. They started down with the homies but we gave ‘em nothin’ so they’ll be headed to the Asian-persuasion next. May wanna keep your head low for a bit. Maybe get caught up with that female officer and dropped down in the hole for some safety.” He grinned, dropping a not-so-subtle hint.

“Fuck, I don’t know shit about the kinfolk,” I groaned. Nate the Ape is at it again, I’m sure. “Thanks man, I appreciate the heads up.”

“No problem. Listen, cabrón, I got your back if you need anything, alright?”

With that, Matias stood up and slapped his hand on the table a few times, signaling his leave. He does that shit every time like standing didn’t indicate his departure in the first place. With a nod, I give my semi-undivided attention back to the… soup, it’s soup… in front of me and let my mind wander back to a tight grip on my cock and the heat of one annoying officer.