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THIRTY-THREE

Alderney State Penitentiary,

Dear Amethyst,

I hope this letter finally reaches you. Please forgive the absence of the morning phone calls. The reason I have been quiet is not my fault.

Usually, I’m aroused after our conversations, but I manage to tuck my erection into the waistband of my pants and return to my cell to relieve the pressure. Last week, I lost control.

Hearing you pleasure your sweet pussy with a replica of my cock left me lightheaded, disoriented, and aflame with the urge to release. I rushed to my cell, unleashed my erection, and came all over my hand.

Unfortunately, the guard who supervises death row’s morning exercises watched me masturbate through a hatch in the door. The next morning, after I downloaded a clip of you playing with the toy, she came into my cell and dropped to her knees.

She wanted me to fuck her throat. Take pleasure from her filthy mouth.

I declined.

The following morning, she refused to allow me close to the blind spot and has done so on subsequent days. My mail has also mysteriously stopped. I’m not ignoring your letters, but this woman is bent on punishing me for my fidelity.

Yesterday, she offered me a concession. Ten minutes in the blind spot in exchange for allowing her to watch me stroke my cock.

I’m torn.

My instincts scream at me to put this woman in her place, but she is one of the most lenient prison guards. Her replacement may confiscate my phone and destroy my letters, robbing me of my sole means of communication with you.

You have become my lifeline, and I’m tempted to give in to her demands. But the thought of being unfaithful to you in any way revolts me to my very core. In my darkest hours, I wonder if this woman is the punishment for my sins.

So, I appeal to you, dear Amethyst. If you forbid me from complying with her degrading requests, I will oblige without a second thought. I will endure the relentless torment of not hearing your voice or reading your beautiful words. I will endure the solitude that will come with the loss of our correspondence.

If you demand my fidelity, then it’s yours. I would rather live an eternity in isolation than taint our bond with such betrayal.

In answer to the fans’ questions:

I was never diagnosed with psychopathy. I feel emotions with intensity. I feel joy, wonder, and can love with all my heart. But, on the other hand, I can feel an all-consuming rage.

No, I did not kill animals as a child. In fact, my neighbors had a black-and-white cat named Bianca, who used to come to my backyard. I fed her scraps I saved from dinner. Her mewls of gratitude were some of the purest sounds of happiness I have ever heard.

I apologize for stalling my story. Please let me know how you wish me to proceed.

Yours,

Xero