Hard Time – Part 1

Two jail newbies are forced to choose between the jeopardy of living in general population or taking up the slimy Assistant Warden's "special offer" in this new prison themed series by Kronmire4 with art by Amalaric!

hard-time-1Hard Time – Part One
by Kronmire4
Art by Amalaric
Series: Hard Time

Kent Overton, the blonde adonis newly arrived at the Barkley Unit, was thrust roughly into his first cell in general population; it was located on the second tier of Building B, the usual place for alleged troublemakers, and it was past time for a meal and very near lights-out evening formation; Kent had only a few minutes to stow his meager belongings and make up his bunk before everything would shut down for the night. The cell contained only a sink-toilet, one chair, a desk-table and a bunk bed. Slouching across the lower mattress was his new cellmate whom the guard pointed to and said: " Here's your new bunk boy, Alonzo. This is Alonzo Slade, Overton. Alonzo, meet Kent Overton. I'm sure you guys will get WELL acquainted real soon!" He nearly split his sides with laughter over that one; then he said: "Chow line's closed, Overton. Light's out in ten minutes." The cell door slammed shut, and Kent felt a wave of apprehension pass over him as he couldn't help but catch his new "friend" looking him over, a bit too hungrily at that. Alonzo appeared to be at least six feet and over 300 pounds, bald with a wicked-looking old scar across his right cheek. His forearms were heavily tattooed with gang symbols, and he sure looked as if he would be a formidable rival to Godzilla if necessary. Alonzo grinned and stretched himself lazily, then pointed to the upper berth, saying: "That's your bunk, pretty boy. I'm tired from my workout, so don't count on me fuckin' you tonight -- but tomorrow you'll be good eatin'." The lazy giant turned over to sleep, and Overton climbed gingerly up to his bunk, wondering how he could get through the next few days, or even this one long night!

The warden's recent offer didn't look so bad now. But Kent decided he would see what happened. Unknown to him at the time, his buddy, Marty Simmons, was getting adjusted to a similar "roommate", too. Overton mused to himself: "Damn! All this and five years to serve, just for stealin' a fuckin' truck! That was one costly joyride!" The troubled young athlete's thoughts were interrupted by evening rollcall, quickly followed by lights out and a tormented, largely sleepless night. He prayed for sunrise.

The next morning finally came, and Assistant Warden McDougal decided to get up extra early to check out the chow line in the cafeteria, a big part of his food operations department. It would be interesting, he thought, to see what the two newbies who had refused his offer yesterday would be feeling today. It was the first time that Overton and Simmons had seen each other since their arrival, and they had had no chance to discuss their predicament until they reached the chow line. As other inmates dished up the oatmeal, eggs and other institutional breakfast fare in the long line of hungry men, both new recruits to the Barkley Unit managed to get into that line next to each other in order to discuss their joint predicament. Kent was first to speak: "Hey, Simmons, you oughta get a load of the gorilla I'm bunkin' with." Marty responded: "Yeah, well, mine may weight a bit less but he's got some karate moves that kept me jumpin' out of his way all last night. I swear I couldn't relax and doze off till morning. Maybe we should take the warden up on his offer, whatt ya' think?" Kent quickly said: "No way, man! I ain't about to be any guy's pussy boy!" Just at that point they reached a bend in the line near where the warden himself was standing; he saw them and nodded curtly in their direction. The two managed to shore up each other's courage while they ate, then at the whistle everyone stood and marched into the outer hallway to receive their work assignments for the day.

McDougal had already made special plans for Simmons and Overton in that regard. When their names were called by the duty officer, it turned out that both were assigned to the prison laundry, which meant a considerable march to another wing of the building. It also, oddly, appeared that they were the only two men called for that duty today. As they proceeded down a lonely corridor, escorted by only two guards, the first guard came to a locked door which he opened, a door which the boys took to be the entry to the laundry facility; their guard ordered them into it. Both lads obeyed without thinking, only to find the steel door slammed and locked shut behind them. "Hey! What the fuck? This ain't no laundry!", yelled Overton as Marty began beating on the small glass port in the door where they could see their escort leering at them from the other side but otherwise making no response. The room was windowless, the only light coming in through a dirty skylight high above, and soon the two trapped prisoners were made aware that they were not alone.

Three shadowy figures emerged from the darkened corners of the large room and came menacingly toward them; they were three of the meanest-looking brutes imaginable, husky and muscular, one of them carrying at least three hundred pounds on his huge frame. "Well, looky here, boys -- some ladies have dropped in on us!" said one of them. Another chimed in with: "Yeah, they look like they need some lovin'". Marty and Kent went into defensive stances, but without weapons they knew this would be a tough fight. Their three adversaries easily surrounded the boys and taunted them, pushing them one way and another until finally Simmons threw a punch at one of the goons; that was all that was needed for complete pandemonium to break out. The unprepared new recruits fought hard, but they were outmatched by the three old hands who made short work of punching them into submission; the leader of the pack, a guy named Philo, then ordered his two cohorts to stretch Simmons and Overton over a large sheet-folding table in the middle of the room; in no time the boys' wrists were secured with rope, their bodies bent firmly across the metal table. Philo then ordered: "Time for some hard ridin', eh fellas?" His pals laughed as Philo with quick motions and a sharp knife ripped the dungerees of their captives down to their ankles, then shredded their clinging tight, white briefs, revealing those incredible butts in all their thrashing, trembling splendor.

Kent and Marty continued to struggle and shout, and one of their assailants crammed pieces of those torn briefs into their screaming mouths, the perspiration-drenched material easily muffling their cries. Heavy sweat had begun to form on those fine asses, dribbling down their slick, bare thighs as they twisted and squirmed to try to escape. Both of them, unused to the ways of prayer, were praying for their very lives now! But just as Philo began probing the lads' virgin assholes with his filthy fat fingers there was a sudden noise at the door; it flew open, and a half dozen guards rushed in with cattle prods at the ready, forcing the three dominant prisoners against the wall. While two of the guards held them at bay, another one untied the trapped lads, who pulled up their pants in shame and were quickly escorted outside. As soon as they had left, the two remaining guards grinned, as did Philo and his "vanquished" comrades; one guard produced a carton of cigarettes for each of the three men and said: "Compliments of Warden McDougal, boys. You did a great job." All laughed loudly and then went about their business.

Both Marty and Kent, happy to be saved from their assumed evil fate, put in the rest of the day in the hot laundry, shifting piles of filthy sheets and prison uniforms, loading and unloading the massive washers and driers, and otherwise putting in more raw physical labor than they had ever experienced in the outside world. That evening in the supper line they were both too exhausted even to talk over the day's experiences with each other. And yet they had to put in another night with cellmates who could take advantage of their newly-weakened condition at any time. Fortunately, nothing happened in the night, and both men were roused, somewhat refreshed by fitful sleep, for the morning's roll call. After a hearty breakfast, instead of being sent out to receive duty roster details, Simmons and Overton were again separated from the rest of the cellblock community and led by two guards to a new part of the building which they soon discovered was the main library. When Overton asked the guards where they were going, his only reply was: "You'll find out." As they were marched through the main reading room of the library, a room which was almost as large as a football field, loaded with bookshelves and book carts, various other inmates stopped and stared at them as they were escorted to a large office at the rear. The guards ordered the lads inside the office and then left them while they took up positions outside the closed door. It was a comfortable room, very masculine with heavy oak furniture, dominated by a massive desk and chair set against a set of windows.

After only a few seconds of observation by the boys, the silence was broken by a familiar voice coming from another doorway: "Well, boys, how have you enjoyed your stay at Barkley Unit so far?" The speaker was none other than Warden McDougal who emerged smiling wickedly from an adjacent room. The new men made no reply but continued to stand beside each other, just looking at the warden as he sat down in the overstuffed leather chair behind his desk. The warden spoke again: "You're no doubt wondering why I brought you here. Not to beat about the bush, let's just say that I wanted to see if you might have reconsidered my little proposition yesterday. I might add, this IS your last chance! If you don't submit to me today, well, your chances of making it....INTACT.... through another day or two here are VERY limited." Marty and Kent looked nervously at each other and were no doubt thinking the same thing -- if matters continued like yesterday, there was no hope of avoiding being raped by the thugs in this place, possibly even being killed. Marty spoke first: "Yes, sir, I think...er....ah....sir, we would be willing to work here or in your kitchen, sir. I'm sorry we didn't understand yesterday." Kent, who still hated the idea of giving in to this creep, had also considered the consequences and added: "Yes, sir. That's about the size of it, sir." He wouldn't give the warden the satisfaction of apologizing, however. McDougal only smiled and said: "I'm glad to see you've both come to your senses. Now for my first command under our new little.....ah...arrangement.....in your new home. STRIP!"

CONTINUE THE STORY:
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1 Comment

  1. 31118azti - November 11, 2018, 8:05 am

    Great artwork!

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