Patsy - Part 1 free porn video

Patsy Chapter 1 I had just finished a big assignment with my advertising agency in Chicago. Many months of long hours and hard work had earned me a nice bonus, and my boss in gratitude said "Patrick, I can't begin to reward you for the hours you have put in, but go take as much time as you want for a much deserved vacation, we can manage around here without you for a while!" I was so physically exhausted and mentally drained I decided to take my bosses offer and use the time off. Normally when I finish a project, I take a week and head to Los Vegas to blow off steam and let the stress work itself out on the gaming tables and at the bar. However, after this particular project, I felt a greater need to just get lost and leave large crowds of people behind. So I decided to pile some luggage in the old car and head out into the country. At first I just needed to start driving, with no particular place in mind, but I was heading south on 55 and soon I knew what I wanted to do. I was headed straight for the Louisiana coastline and since I had never visited the Gulf of Mexico, I figured this would be a great place to start my vacation. Just north of New Orleans I turned and headed west, going through Baton Rogue, proceeding on down to the coast roads. The salt air was tantalizing and soon I was lost in the sights and sounds of sea life along the marshes and sand banks of the area. I'd been driving almost non-stop since leaving Chicago and as the evening drifted into night, I pulled into a little out of the way bar and grill. After ordering a meal, I asked the proprietor where there might be a motel I could spend the night. He laughed a little, and said I should have turned off about thirty miles back up east on the road, as that was the nearest motel around that neck of the woods. I mentioned I was headed west and had just come that way. He sorta shook his head and then said westbound I would have to go at least fifty-five miles to find housing for the night and then he wasn't even sure that the place was still operating. I thanked him and pulled out my I-phone to search for a place myself, but that was useless, I couldn't get more than half a bar and the signal was just not strong enough to make use of the phone. As I was paying my bill, I asked him if it would be okay to just park around back and take a couple hours sleep in my car till I was rested enough to continue driving. He shrugged and said go ahead, didn't bother him none. As I turned to go, I heard a familiar tune on the jukebox playing in the bar and thought since I wasn't going anywhere tonight that I would just pop in and have a quickie. I pushed through the old fashion bar room doors and took a seat at the counter. Ordered a dirty martini and then just nursed it, while letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There were only four people besides myself in the place, three were at a table, some rather rough looking characters, but not out of place considering. Then I focused on the one lone female who was sitting at the other end of the bar counter. She looked a year or two younger than myself, but it was hard to tell as she looked so typical of someone who obviously lived a "nightlife" and was no stranger to alcohol. But at the same time, there was something rather exotic about her as well. She was slim and of dark skin. Not black, but definitely a mix of northern European and possibly some Jamaican influence. Her dress was a little better than I would have suspected for a local to wear to this bar and she sported some hoop earrings, which did seem about right for here. The top of her blouse was unbuttoned down far enough to leave nothing to a man's imagination about her ample cleavage and tied about her neck was a light brown silk scarf. Some bracelets and two-inch heels finished my cursory appraisal of her. Since I was so tired, I hadn't realized that what I thought was just a quick glance in her direction, in reality had been almost a minute of straight staring. She definitely had noticed me and then motioned to the bar tender. She then moved off her stool and walked straight over to me and took the stool next to mine. Having just had a couple sips of my martini and being a bit embarrassed by being spotted ogling this creature, I just sat there with my mouth slightly open without a word coming to mind, though the feel of blood rushing across my cheeks probably said it all. She reached down and patted my knee and told me not to be embarrassed, that she often had men come in and were far more obvious than myself about checking her out. In fact, she was very flattered by my attention and wanted to let me know that. This relieved my tension and was glad she wasn't thinking I was some kind of sex voyeur. Tiffany introduced herself and then the bartender came over and slid two new drinks in our direction. I was about to hold up my hand and say I hadn't ordered another, but my newfound friend shushed me and said it was on her. Well, I dropped the protest and thanked her for her kindness, as anything else would have been impolite. So, before long we were chatting like old friends and I couldn't believe all the stories I had to tell and she was glued to my every word. More often than not, most women will hear me out for about five minutes and then drift off. But this was out in the middle of nowhere, not in one of your upscale downtown Chicago wine bars. And she seemed genuinely interested in all I had to share about my life in Chicago. All the while she kept my martini glass filled, usually two is my limit, but I was working on a fourth and I certainly had reached well beyond the point of rational thinking. As I babbled on, knowing I wasn't really making much sense, Tiffany had discreetly moved from patting my knee to rubbing my groin area. Her hand, though very soft, wasn't all that petite. As she caressed my inner thigh, her palm and fingers felt like they could easily encompass my entire leg. With a hand like that, she ought to be catching footballs or shooting basketballs! She now had me so worked up, I had simply stopped gibbering and closed my eyes enjoying the alcohol soaked feelings coursing through my innards. I also was starting to drift off, since I'd been up since five that morning to beat traffic and here it was close to eleven at night. Tiffany easily sensed I was going to pass out, so she says, "come on big boy, I think you need a nice warm bed to sleep in and Tiffany has just the place!" Standing up from the stool, I almost went over, but she steadied me and making the effort to start walking, helped clear my head a little. She told the bartender she'd settle up later and as I was being maneuvered towards the saloon doors, we went past the table where the three blokes were still huddled, keeping their conversations to themselves. What I didn't see was as Tiffany passed by them behind me, she reached over and gave one of the guys a poke in the shoulder and gave him a wink. As we reached the parking lot, I began to fumble for my keys, but Tiff says I'm in no condition to drive, but she is more than happy to chauffer us. At which point she reaches into my right pocket and pulls my key ring out. Course, she doesn't miss a chance, as she's feeling for the keys, she makes sure that my member gets some of the action. God she's good! So as she presses the car key, my good ol' steed lights up and chirps to guide us in. She opens the passenger door and pours me into the seat and proceeds to hop in behind the wheel and we roar off down the road. I'm barely able to keep my eyes open but we go maybe a mile or so down the road and turn off into a dirt driveway. A minute later we pull up to an old two-story farmhouse. It's seen better days, definitely needs a new coat of paint and some of the window panes are cracked or completely broken out. She stops right in front of the wooden porch and then helps me out, where upon I bump my head on the car doorframe as I come up. I'm now feeling really sick and I'll probably need to worship at the porcelain goddess before the hour is out. In fact, I'm barely over the front door threshold and my hand goes to my mouth. Tiff simply points to the hall and I am just successful in reaching the bowl, however, the toilet seat is down and I will most likely be doing a little cleaning in the morning. After about fifteen minutes and countless eruptions, my body settles down and Tiff comes in and grabs a washcloth to clean up my face. She pulls out some mouthwash and I do my best to gargle and spit. She then hands me a couple pills and some water, saying they will help quiet my "turmoils" and I swallow them down. She then escorts me to her bed and I flop over ready for a sound sleep. Well, Tiff has other ideas and starts to slap me across the face, which really stings! She then says she won't be denied her pleasure and proceeds to strip my clothes off. She commands me to wake up and to give it to her doggy style. I really just wanted to sleep, but I was beginning to feel odd and I couldn't help but follow her commands. I came up behind her as she positioned herself on all fours on the bed. She commanded that I lick her asshole, which I began to do without hesitation. What's going on? What little of my senses that were still working in my brain said I would never do anything like this and here I am doing it! My nose is buried in her crack and there is an occasional whiff of her anal cavity hitting my sense of smell. I'm definitely put off, but my body seems like it is on autopilot and continues to explore her opening! Next she grabs a tube of lubricant from the bed stand and hands it to me, telling me to get her good and lubed. I squirt the stuff on her hole and start to work it in with my fingers. She starts to moan and writhe with pleasure, then shouts at me to put my member in. I reach down to grab my cock to guide it in and am surprised at just how rigid my pole is. I'm still in such a haze and don't seem to have much power to stop my actions, and here my cock is as hard as ever! I begin to explore her crack with my cock and as I stroke across her anal opening, Tiff shudders under me and starts to drive back. At which point I begin to force the head of my cock forward into her tight little cherry. A moment later I have gained entry and very quickly our bodies are as close as they can possibly be. I then begin my rhythm in and out, all the time she is yelling at me to fuck her hard, to give her what she needs. I'm laid out full on her backside, with my hands kneading her ample breasts and my fingers tweaking her nipples. Man I am lost in euphoria! It's not long before I feel my eruption is imminent and begin to make the final assault. Tiff tenses up as if knowing how close I am to coming, which of course, brings about my ultimate thrust. As I throw this one last thrust, several things happened simultaneously. Tiff shouts something, my loins began bursting forth their seed and several pairs of very strong hands attach themselves to my shoulders. I'm yanked backwards off the bed with a long stream of cum still hanging between Tiff's anus and the tip of my cock. In the next second I hear a voice say "What a mess, I think this pervert needs to clean this sissy's ass!" and my face is shoved very roughly into her butt crack as someone forces her down flat on the bed. My nose and mouth are maneuvered up and down her crack with a hand using the hair on my head. A mixture of cum, lube and anal pudding gets smeared all down my face, I can't help but inhale this crap into my mouth and nose, causing me to go into a choking fit. I'm pulled up, coughing, sputtering and thrown into a vanity chair where one of the guys grabs some nylons and securely ties my hands behind my back and then my legs are bound to the chair legs. I begin to fight my bonds and try to shake my head, trying to gain some understanding of what is happening. A male voice commands me to stop and sit quietly. Again, as if my body was on some kind of autopilot, I stop and just sit there. Then these blokes, all with nylons pulled over their heads, manhandle Tiff, and she too is trussed up to a chair and placed a few feet in front of me. They then ask her where she keeps her cash. She screams she doesn't have any cash, but they think otherwise and give her a pretty hard slap across the face. They again demand cash and she again shakes her head, which results in another healthy slap. About then, the two other guys grab my chair and drag me out into the hallway. The door to the bedroom slams shut and then it sounds like all hell is breaking out in there. I hear screams, breaking of furniture, repeated slaps and then I'm sure what are closed fist punches. Then things quiet down a bit, I hear Tiff whimpering, but still denying there is any cash in the house. The door opens and the other two go back inside. I can hear some low discussions going on and a question is asked of Tiff. A drawer then opens and then all three come out and face me. My reflexes kick in and I close my eyes while turning my head in order to soften the first blow, but nothing happens. After a moment I open my eyes again and turn to look at our attackers. The big guy says to me that I have to come up with some cash or Tiff won't be able to service anyone for a very long time. I just sit there not quite comprehending what he's going on about. Figuring I needed to have it spelled out, one of them says to me, if I don't want to see this poor southern belle turned into hamburger I better agree to a plan to get them money. I mumble to them that I have financial means and can get them money from an ATM. They laugh, there's no ATM's around these parts, only the 24 hour liquor store has cash at this hour. I said I'd just go there and get an advance on my card. They snicker again and said yeah and then the card company would get alerted and cancel the transaction somehow. No, we want a sure fire way of getting cash and, yes, I will go to the Liquor store and get it, but not with a card, but with this. A revolver is shoved into the center of my lap, actually, shoved into my groin area, which caused a flood of stars to flash before my eyes and excruciating pain to shoot through my lower regions. He says how nice it was of Tiff to offer up the gun in exchange for keeping her good looks! The gun is an old snub-nosed pistol and he has already checked the bullet chamber to clear out any bullets. In fact, he mentions to me that he didn't find any bullets for it, but that it really didn't matter if he did, as he'd never let me have a loaded gun in the first place. Besides, bullets wouldn't do me much good anyway, as he noticed that the firing pin was gone. He tells the others to go get my clothes and something to wipe the shit and cum off my face, can't have him doing a job looking like some pecker headed tranny chaser. They quickly return and a washcloth is roughly scrapped across my face. I think they purposely shoved some of the goo up my nose, as I couldn't help snorting it deep into my throat. I almost brought up whatever was left in my stomach, but fortunately, the fear I was feeling at that moment seemed to restrict that reflex. One of the guys comes back with my pants and pulls my wallet out, proceeding to empty it of any cash, credit cards, and identification. He then pockets all that and shoves the wallet back into my pants. My cloths are then thrown in my lap and the big guy tells me that I will do exactly as I am told. He goes on to tell me that I will be taken to a local all night liquor store where I will go in with a gun and demand all the cash in the till. He and his boys will wait outside and when I get them the cash, they will let me go. He then tells his cohorts to undo my bindings and I seem powerless to do anything but what I was told to do. So I pull up my briefs over my cum and shit covered groin area, pull on all my other cloths and then I take the gun and put it in my pocket. All the time I can't believe I am just doing this without any resistance. I mean really, putting on my pants without first at least trying to clean up the stinking, sticky mess in my crotch? What is wrong with me? They then command me outside to their vehicle, an old pickup truck, where they tell me I stink way too much and to get into the bed of the truck while all three of them squeeze into the cab. Soon we are headed back out on the road and travel about two miles till they come to an all night liquor store. I'm standing just outside a liquor store, a revolver in my hand and a threat of grievous bodily harm coming to Tiff if I don't go in and demand the cash from the till. I probably should have just made a run for it right then and there. However, without my car at hand and really not knowing just how to get back to Tiffs I can't figure a way out. Besides, these jerks have taken my ID and I'm still under some kind of hypnotic suggestion, as I can't refuse their commands. I hesitate then hear a large snap behind me, and I know one of my tormentors just took a large branch and broke it, signaling that I, or Tiff, will be the next branch he breaks. So I figure I will go in with the gun but instead of demanding money, I'll tell the clerk I'm being forced to do this and that I'm not here to rob him, but for him to call the police and let them sort it out. So, I step through the door and walk straight for the counter, the clerk turns around, and instantly my mind reels. He's most definitely an Asian, possibly Korean, and probably doesn't speak more than a couple words in English. He throws up his hands, screams like a girl, stomps on the floor, where there must have been a foot switch. Sirens and lights, etc. start going off all around me. I'm dazed and before I have a chance to figure what my next move ought to be, I feel my head fall forward with lots of flashing stars and I'm on the floor with a splitting headache. Moments later I'm trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and I hear sirens from outside approaching. Chapter 2 I've now been sitting in the local town jail since dawn and a lawyer comes to my rescue, someone Tiff knows and says will do his best for me. I explain what happened that night and he writes it all down and says he will talk it over with the local prosecutor and see what to do next. My head is still swimming and that crack on the noggin has me senseless, all of this period seems like a dream. Within a couple hours the lawyer returns and tells me he's worked out a great deal. I confess to unarmed robbery, as the gun that I had in my hand was little more than junk and couldn't have fired a bullet if I had wanted it to. So the prosecutor will bury the gun evidence and just go with a simple threat of force. This allows my sentence to be reduced to just six months with good behavior as opposed to a possible sentence of at least ten years if the gun were entered into evidence. My mind is going in circles, plead to a crime I didn't commit? Wasn't there sufficient evidence that this was a set up? Why won't you go to bat for me and give me my day in court to settle this matter? If a jury hears the facts, they will realize I had nothing to do with this. The lawyer sits back and gives me a stern but fatherly look, as if he's about to tell me the facts of life, which in essence is exactly what he's going to do. "First, the police never found any guys around the crime scene, the only person there was you. As for Tiff's backing up your story, that's not going to give you much help, as he has had a number of run ins with the police before, not to mention his gender issues! Further, if you go to court, the prosecutor will bring the gun back into evidence! The fact that the gun came from Tiff's house makes him an accomplice and will charge Tiff as a co-conspirator and that you two had planned this whole thing from the start. Once the DA puts out his history, there's not a snowballs chance in hell that Tiff will come across as a credible witness." "And, to top matters off, you're not in Chicago my friend, you are in a very redneck part of the country and the folks down here take their gun rights seriously, so seriously, that it doesn't matter whether that gun could fire or not. The fact that you used one in the commission of a crime always gets the anti-gun lobby in these parts going and those folks on the jury will crucify you simply for the gun alone. They don't want one more reason for the government telling them they have to give up their arms". "Now, it is your choice, but I've just spent the better part of the day working on this plea and all the parties are buying into it. It's the best deal you'll ever get and if you don't want to spend the next ten years rotting in some stinking, cockroach infested, humid cesspool of humanity, I'd just sign these papers. In fact, if you sign these papers, I have a guarantee from the prosecutor that we can choose the penal institution where you will be incarcerated. There is a minimum- security prison not far from here that isn't overcrowded and for all intents and purposes, is about the best one could hope for in your situation". "Also, Tiff evidently knows someone that is currently serving time there and it's always good to have someone on the inside who can look out for you, especially someone like you who has never seen the inside of a cement and iron cage!" "So here's the pen and here's the paper, just read it over and sign at the bottom here and here, along with the date and we can get you through all this quickly. Heck, the time will fly and you'll be out in no time!" I still have a sense that I'm being manipulated by whatever drug I ingested last night, for I seem to be giving up all protest and just willing to follow directions and sign this trumped up charge. But all that the lawyer has said makes perfect sense, except, in the back of my mind something he said has hit a chord and I can't make out the tune? What is it? I watch, as if my hand is working of it's own accord and I sign off where he points, he then slips the document into a folder and pats me on the shoulder. As he leaves the cell, he gives me a thumbs up as if we've just won some kind of craps game, but I can't see that I've rolled anything other than snake eyes and been bit by that snake! Several hours later, I'm informed I have a visitor and in waltz's Tiffany with a broad smile on her face, dressed like she was at the bar last night, along with that brown silk scarf neatly wrapped around her neck. She was let into the cell and she comes over and lays a big kiss on me, I don't return the favor. She then backs away with a look of great concern on her face and asks me what is wrong? What is wrong? I tell her everything is wrong. I've just signed a confession where I admit to holding up a liquor store and I'm about to be sent away for six months to some god forsaken hell hole! And no one around here seems to care about proper police work or giving someone their day in court! I now know I made a big mistake in signing that damn document and if I had had my wits about me, I would have called my boss in Chicago and had him get me the best lawyer in Chicago to come down and deal with this. Maybe that's what I should do right now, there may still be time to undo this mess! Tiffany suddenly looked like the blood had rushed out of her face, like she'd seen a ghost. She seemed lost for words for a minute and then she regained herself. She turned very meekly towards me and said she had come to tell me how grateful she was that I hadn't implicated her in any way about the events of the night before. That if I had, she'd most likely have been sentenced right away and would be serving out a seven- year sentence that she narrowly avoided. The judge gave her leniency as long as she stayed out of trouble. She said she has been doing a lot of court ordered community service and had gotten her life together. She went on to say that if she ended up in prison, she'd probably not come out alive. Girls like her get used up quickly in the big state pens, which is where they would send her. If I were to call in my Chicago friends, it would be all over for her. Now, I was really confused. Why would her life be at risk at a women's prison? I mean really, that doesn't make any sense. Well, just about that time as I'm thinking this through, that nagging little pounding at the back of my brain suddenly hit me with a big whack, maybe a bigger whack than the physical one I suffered at the liquor store! I stepped back and sat down on the prison cot, looking intently at my little Tiffany. The scarf would definitely hide an Adam's apple, but why hadn't I noticed anything else amiss? Whoa, wait a minute, those hands! I even thought at the bar they seemed way too large for a woman of her stature. God, was I that blind? Tiffany now looked at me with a new expression and asked if I really hadn't read her? I said, "You mean that you really are a guy? Not a woman? NO! I hadn't, I really hadn't!" A small smile came across her face and she told me that was the nicest compliment she had ever received. She seemed to be on the verge of tears and I couldn't resist myself, I got up and I had to put my arms around her and hold her. What was I doing? I was still confused and I had to pull myself together here! She went on, asking if even during sex I hadn't noticed her little package? I just shook my head, by the time we were on her bed, I was so out of it, she could have rubbed my nose in it and I probably wouldn't have known the difference. Wait, my nose was all but rubbed in it! Oh my head hurts! At that moment I simply plopped back down on the cot and put my head in my hands. Oh what, oh what am I going to do? If I try to get out of this mess with a real lawyer, it's a sure fire trip to hell for Tiff, though why I should care what happens to her, I really don't know! But even after all this, I still think she's pretty hot and generally seems like a really nice person. But if I don't try, then I am on my way in the morning to do some prison time of my own! As I'm mulling this over, she comes over and sits next to me on the cot. She strokes my hair and begins to whisper that it's alright, that the time at the minimum security prison will fly by and she has someone there who will protect me and help me out. I probably shouldn't have given in at that moment, but she just said the right things to me, and her comforting embrace left me defenseless. I just couldn't make things worse for her and as long as I had someone on the inside to help me out, I guess six months wasn't going to kill me. Probably not my best day for reasoning, but I just wanted it all to go away. Tiff remained with me for some twenty minutes more and then the sheriff said visiting time was up. Tiffany said that since she probably wouldn't see me again till I was up at the prison, that when I got there, I was to seek out Big Victor. He was a very special friend of hers and that he was the man who would keep me safe and protected while I served my time. And don't hesitate to tell anyone you see up there that you are a friend of Big Victor before you make contact, everyone there respects him and that all I need do is drop his name. I thanked her and she gave me another peck on the cheek as she left. I'm sure if the guard hadn't been holding the cell door open and watching, she wouldn't have hesitated to have climbed on me and planted a real wet one. I'm kind of glad she was unable to, I had a lot on my mind now about "who" she was and what effect that might be having on me! I'm all for sexual rights and everyone should be free to associate, even marry whom they please, but for myself? I'm a true hetero and the idea of making it with a man brings that familiar feeling of wanting to upchuck last nights' pizza, something you try to avoid at all costs. So, here I was last night doing just that, making it with a man, actually humping my heart out into his anal cavity! Then I reflect that I also was cleaning that cavity freely with my mouth and tongue! Glad there was no pizza from last night, or anything else for that matter in my stomach just at that moment. I'd have hurled it for sure! Chapter 3 Morning came early for me, as the guards came in right at six a.m. and placed cuffs on my hands behind my back. I was led out to the waiting prison van. There were several other orange covered men just like myself cuffed to the bench in the back of the van. They slid me in next to a black dude who was about my size, but clearly had lived a hard life. His face was pock marked from acne, one eye drooped a little, I could only guess from a long ago, well placed right punch to his temple. And then there was that long knife scare that started at the top of his shoulder and disappeared under his shirt after making a diagonal line down his chest. The entire trip was quiet, no one said anything, but I felt like a piece of raw meat just waiting for one of these vultures to scoop me up and swallow me whole. Old slant eye couldn't keep that eye off me, all the while showing me a sly smile. His mind was definitely working overtime and whatever it was he was thinking about, I surely played a major role in. Now I began to regret ever signing that bloody paper! The van finally pulled into a fenced off area, proceeding to a building just outside of a fence that was even higher, I could see the guard towers at the corners. The garage door opened and we slid inside out of the noonday sun with the door closing behind us. I now really felt trapped and butterflies were very busy down in my gut! The back doors of the van opened and we were detached from that hard bench and paraded down a small corridor through several card key activated metal doors. Some of the prisoners from the van still had some of their personal belongings such as watches and rings. All my stuff had been taken back in the town jail. They handed all this over to the guards behind the counter who took the items, put them in a large manila envelope and asked for the prisoners name and number. I realized at that moment that I hadn't been given a number yet, but since I didn't have anything to hand over, I guess it didn't matter. We then were lead into a small room with a number of chairs and a podium up front. We were seated and no one spoke. After about ten minutes, a fellow in a business suit came in and stood before the podium, and proceeded to address us, to explain that while in this facility there were all kinds of opportunities for advancement, that good behavior brought merit. He ended by saying that as warden of this great facility, he was interested in every man here and would do his utmost for those who showed the kind of fortitude to do what was right. I heard a very quiet snort somewhere down the line, if the warden heard it, he paid it no mind. With that out of the way we once again were commanded to stand and follow the guards. As we reached a doorway into a large rec hall like area, the cuffs were removed one by one and each of us were sent inside. Several of the men sauntered in like they owned the place and knew exactly where they were headed. I held back wondering what to do next, but ol' scar face gave me a push from behind and I found myself in the center of the room. Around me I could hear comments, cat-calls, and wolf whistles from the inmates and those comments were directed at me! There was nothing left to the imagination, I was the surrogate female type and they knew I was so out of my element here. They were going to have a field day with me and at that I was at a loss as to how to deal with it all, which only confirmed their beliefs. The PA switched on and a voice came over the intercom system. Names were being called out with assignment numbers. I heard them call out Patrick, and my number was B14. So, what was B14? Then a little later, I heard another name and they also got B14. Now, that dude I had to sit next to with the scar came up to me with a real broad smile on his face and said come on bro, that's us! That's us what?! Well, that was us and our cell number! He proceeded to push me towards a row of bars and there they were, all with big numbers designating each 12 by 12 room. My new home away from home. And my new cellmate, Rudy turns out to be his name, points to the cell door and waves me in. I walk in and look around. A two tier bunk bed, with a thin mattress, pillow and blanket on each bed and one stainless steel shitter bolted to the wall, no movable toilet seat, just a molded steel top to sit on. I shuddered, thinking that would really warm the cockles of my heart at three in the morning. There really wasn't anything else in the room. I turned and since Rudy had waved me in, I thought I had a choice of sleeping arrangements. Imagine my surprise when I reached up to the top bunk and he swatted my hand away! He didn't say a word but pointed to the lower bunk with an icy cold look that said if I wanted to make it out alive in the next ten minutes, I had better act like the bottom bunk was the best thing since sliced bread! I proceeded to sit down on the lower bunk while Rudy got topside on his. Again, I was at a loss as to what I was expected to do next or if I was to go somewhere. In the end I just laid back on the mattress and waited to see if Rudy made a move or if someone would come by and give me instructions. I could hear Rudy above me humming to himself, and occasionally muttering something about pussies and sissies and ain't we got fun! The guy was definitely short of a full load! I just hoped he had an off switch at night. As I was cogitating on this, I found myself drifting off to sleep, guess the activities of the last forty-eight hours had finally caught up with me. I woke to Rudy shaking me awake, yelling it was time for dinner "sweetie", which was a little startling, but it was that he had his hand on my chest, actually right over my nipple which really alarmed me! Before I had a chance to grab him and protest, he was out the door and headed away. I roused myself and followed in the direction he had gone. Other inmates were all heading in the same general direction, so I figured I was doing what I should. I caught snatches of conversations around me, they all seemed to be about me or some of the other newbies' that had come in on the van that day. As we started to bunch together just outside the rec hall we had come into earlier, a hand came in contact with my rear end and gave me a pretty powerful pinch! I yelped and someone else gave me a slap on the rear as well. I tried to turn and figure out from whom I had been assaulted, but the crowd had me packed in tight and all I could do was continue forward with the crowd. By the time I was able to break out of the crowd I had several welts from very strong pinches. I could see now that everyone were making their way to cafeteria style tables which had paper plates, plastic forks and spoons. I noticed that there were no plastic knives to be seen. As I moved towards a table, those who were already seated there would just shake their heads at me and I got the message real quick. So I looked around and finally spotted Rudy sitting at a table where several of my other traveling buddies from earlier in the day were sitting. So, I headed over there and Rudy just patted the bench next to him, I had no choice but to accept as there was no other space available. As I sat, I again felt every one of those pinches I had just endured. Not only that, there was Rudy snickering under his breath again, mumbled what I thought sounded pretty much like what I had heard in the cell. He really was beginning to unnerve me! They began calling out tables and those who were at those table would get up and take their plates through the food line. Now I knew why we were sitting where we were, our table would be the last called. I just sighed to myself and shrugged my shoulders, and really began to take in all my surroundings. Several of my fellow tablemates starting discussions about some of the most inane things, but everything seemed to get back to sex. Who knocked up who, and who had the biggest conquests. I just tuned it out and did my observing of the crowd. Though everyone wore orange jumpsuits, evidently it was allowed to accessorize as long it didn't interfere with the names and numbers stitched on the suits. I noticed there were a number of inmates sporting scarves of various colors. In fact, it appeared they were a code of color for a gang or something, as those with light green scarves were all sitting together and no other colors could be seen sitting with another. At each table, there appeared to be one or two large male inmates who would be sitting at each end of those tables. I then thought about the scarf that I had seen Tiffany wearing and the smaller inmates were wearing their scarves in much the same manner as she had. This made me wonder a little more and as I looked more closely, I could swear that some of those inmates with the scarves seemed a little effeminate in their movements, actions and how they allowed their hair to hang about. Not all of them, several looked and acted like ordinary guys, and would even sneer at the effeminate ones with obvious derision. There was definitely some kind of pecking order going on in these gangs. I further noticed, almost every one of the effeminate guys had no facial hair that could be seen and several appeared to have their faces made up. Not obviously, but definitely a hint of color around the eyes, thin eyebrows, and a little color to the lips. If I didn't know better, they must have stuffed some socks down in the front of their jumpsuits, some were definitely sporting frontal mounds. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I could only make my observations in a candid sort of way. It made me think a little bit about Tiffany and her situation. Had her time in prison been the reason for her journey into womanhood? Had it been her choice or had she been forced into it? Thinking about how I'd been so duped by her in believing she was a true female, I just can't believe she was forced. Someone like that must have been that way from childhood. Breaking away from those thoughts, I returned to my earlier observations. The two big guys that attended each of these tables, seemed to be, for a lack of a better word, "shepherds" of the flock. They all sported beards, mustaches, and definitely worked out in the prison gym, as they all had fairly stout arms and barrel chests! If any of the scarves started to act up, they would simply give a stare and a grunt, and things would settle down instantly. I decided to come back to the conversations at my own table and not delve any further for now into the lives of my fellow inmates. The less I learned, the better, at least I hoped so. A bell rang and everyone started to get up, grabbing their dinnerware and leftovers. I decided to just sit and let all the others go ahead of me, but slant eye Rudy started poking me, and gesturing to get a move on. I decided not to create a scene, as I had yet to understand any of the code of conduct. Better just to go with the flow! As I reached the dustbins where we dropped all our leftovers and utensils, a guard there scrutinized every inch of me and checked every thing I discarded. I had seen him stop the line several times and pat down an inmate, even a plastic spoon can be deadly if used in the right way. I then followed the crowd, or should I say, Rudy's hand was on the back of my shoulder sort of pushing me along. He was really beginning to annoy me, and being way too familiar in how he was invading my space. One way or the other, I knew that I would have to come to an altercation with the guy in order to set boundaries. I just wish I knew a little more about the defensive arts and from the scar and his slanted eye, Rudy was no stranger to bar brawling. It wasn't going to be a pretty sight and I'd probably come out on the losing end, but in here, a guy has to at least stand up for himself or he's dead meat! As this is going through my thoughts, our parade goes through another set of metal doors into a corridor, which then emptied out into another long room, which had all sorts of entertainment facilities. Guys broke off and either plopped down into chairs to watch a TV mounted high up the wall, or drifted over to some electronic arcade games. I noticed a rack of magazines on one wall, so I searched through and found a Newsweek, though it was month old, and grabbed a chair off to one side. From this vantage point, I could observe without too much attention being drawn to myself. It was not long before my suspicions were confirmed much to my dread. One of the men with the green scarves was sitting in the lap of one of the big burly guys who was rubbing away on the guys' bum. Mr. Scarf had his arms around the guys' neck and was purring like a kitten, rubbing his check against the hard stubble of the big guy. They were really getting it on and I was amazed that no one else in the room seemed to give a second thought to it or was even giving it a glance. I figured it had something to do with giving privacy to folks in a place that had none. Needless to say, I didn't give any more glances in that direction, they were welcome to their privacy and I didn't want any part of it. I spent the better part of three hours just paying attention to my magazines and trying to give privacy like the others, to four or five various "couples" in the room. Though I looked calm on the outside, inside I was really getting worked up. Not sexually, no, more like a fear that I couldn't get a grip on. Sooner or later, I knew one of these guys was going to make a pass at me. It only stood to reason, and then how was I going to deal with that? I wouldn't stand a chance with one of those big burly ones. I'd be in a pretzel shape faster than I could throw a pathetic punch! The bell rang again and I about jumped out of my chair, I was so wrapped up in those troubling thoughts. Inmates started breaking off from their games, the couples likewise finished their final moments together and we were on the move back to the cells. Rudy had drifted off right after we entered the room hours before, and he was nowhere to be seen. That was a relief, but again, in the choke points along the corridors, I was being pinched and felt up and there was nothing I could do about it. At one point, the crowd stopped as only a couple guys at a time could get through the small corridor leading to the cells, when I felt some big guy behind me put his hands on my waist and felt something hard rubbing along my butt. I tried to slap the hands away from waist, which only brought a sudden and blindingly painful grip by those claws. At that same moment, whomever had me in their clutches bent down and whispered in my ear to go with the flow or I'd never make it to the door in one piece. Just then, there was a break in the crush and the crowd surged forward, and I was through the door. As we entered the cell area, the hands on my waist were gone and I turned to see who it might have been but whoever he was, was just one of the crowd now. I hustled as fast as I could to the safety of my cell and sat down on the toilet, not to make a deposit, but a reason to pull my pants down to see what damage had been done by those gripping hands. Sure enough, embedded in my skin were clear outlines of palms and fingers, the edges already turning blue and purple! I got up and proceeded to my bunk, where I spent the next hour rubbing my throbbing sides. I was beginning to wonder where my mischievous cellmate was, when in he comes, clearly smiling over some scheme that he's succeeded in. He was clearly no stranger to a place like this and knew how to work the system. He smirked over at me as he began to climb into the top bunk, and whispered that some guy had already found his perfect dream girl! I wasn't sure why that should mean anything to me, but Rudy just chuckled at my non response and finished in a more normal but sinister voice, "Good night, pumpkin!" Now that brought a queasy feeling fast to my gut. I was that dream girl! Oh no, that's not going to happen! No way! Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night, though we were safely locked in our cell. Unfortunately, that did not assuage the feeling that at any moment some guy was going to claim his prize. Then I remembered what Tiff had said, just drop the name of "Big Victor" and all would be well. I really doubted anyone had that much muscle in this place. That just by dropping his name, one could ward off trouble. However, it gave me just enough hope that I was finally able to drift off and get a few good hours of sleep. Again, I awoke to Rudy's hand on my chest, only this morning instead of just shaking me, he's actually gently rubbing my upper chest and nipple. How long he'd been doing that before I came awake, I didn't know but once I was aware of it, I shot up like a pistol and banged my head on the bottom of the top bunk. Rudy stood back and just chuckled in his usual sinister way. I figured now was as good a time as any to see if my only trump card had any merit here. I looked at Rudy with a very stern and deliberate glare, which just made him break out in a laugh. Then I said, he had better be careful for Big Victor might not be very happy if I told him how he was treating a friend of his. This was remarkable! I couldn't believe how quickly it worked! Rudy's face froze instantly and the laugh in his throat fell to a croak. The blood drained from his face and he just stood there. He recovered fairly quickly and in a more wary and solicitous way, he asked if I was jerking him around? I just gave my own small but sly smile and said, "If it weren't true, I would be the biggest fool in the world to say what I just said, now wouldn't I?" I gave the response with all the bluster I could muster, but I knew I was treading on very thin ice. If, indeed, Big Victor said he didn't know me from Adam, they'd find all kinds of little parts that used to be me clogging up the prisons' sewer system. But, at the mention of Big Victor and Rudy's instant fear, I wanted him to suffer just a small bit of the same fear I'd been enduring the last forty-eight hours and I could see it really hit home! Rudy than backed away and became quite pensive. Both his eyes were now squinted and his brow came down in apparent deep thought, probably the hardest effort he's been put too in some time. Then he says he's got to go and disappears out the cell. Well, I guess that went well enough, though now I wonder what the heck he's up to, the little scoundrel! Well, there's the breakfast bell, guess it 's time to get moving and put up with another day of dealing with fuckers who get a thrill out of pinching my bottom! Now that is something I would really like to find a way to stop, but how? But as I head into the crowd, it's as if I've developed some kind of magnetic repulsion field around me. No ones pinching my butt, no one even bumps into me nor am I getting sandwiched by bodies. In fact, it seems like as I walk toward the doors, the others just melt to the sides. Not with any apparent notice of me, however, the way just seems to open without effort. I walk in and wonder, do I dare to push my luck? Why not, let's see what happens, the worse that could happen is, I get beaten to a pulp! That makes me stop a moment and consider my next move, but I have to know. I take a seat at one of the tables that I saw yesterday which gets to go early for food. As I sit, no one says a thing, in fact, all around me, life seems to go on as if I'm not there. Well, that's a relief, and I know why. Rudy didn't waste time now did he? One, he's out checking my story and, two, he's letting everyone know what I told him. I guess that's a great thing, at least, until Big Victor either confirms or denies my statement. God, I hope I've made the right choice. I hope Tiff hasn't just set me up and really wants me to get rubbed out in prison. After all, I could still recant and try and get a real trial set up. After breakfast, my status continues to go before me, no touches to my body, pathways seem to open instantly before me in this sea of humanity. I'm now even sensing that the guards are aware of me and seem more diligent in observing those who are around me. I could grow to like this, though I would really just rather be completely out of here and back in Chicago working on a project! Lunch rolls around and again, easy peasy through the lunch lines and afterwards I decide to head out into the prison courtyard to burn off some energy and tension by batting a ball against a concrete wall. As I enter one of the small side yards, the few inmates there look up and slowly move on out to other areas. Within a couple minutes, I'm left alone, just me and the bouncing ball. Yeah, that's how I like it, I'm now the big man on campus and they all respect me! I've got the power! Yeah, just keep thinking that, right up till you get ground into the concrete when they see you for who you really are! I hear a crackel behind me, someone walking on concrete. I stop and turn to see who has decided to venture into my space. The sun is behind the guy, so all I can make out is a silhouette of some guy that has to be at least six and a half, and had to have been a big black linebacker for the toughest, roughest football team in the NFL. I stand there frozen as the guy stops in front of me and folds his arms. Not a word is spoken for several minutes, I can tell the guy is appraising me from top to bottom and every which way from here to Sunday. It's actually very unnerving and my prior feeling of invincibility from just a few moments before melts rapidly away in the afternoon sun. Then the goliath speaks and I can only gulp at the power in that voice. "So, I understand you claim to be a friend of mine? Do I know you?" I try to speak but I can only gasp for some air. The tension grows by the second and I begin to feel light headed. I try again to open my mouth and then everything goes hazy, I'm fainting. I have just enough awareness to feel two giant ebony arms catch me and I regain my senses now with my back to a concrete wall in the shade. This time, goliath speaks, but has moderated his tone into a more "friendly" manner. I guess he knows a milquetoast when he sees one and if he wants any answers, he needs to approach me from a different tact. Again, he asks if I know him and now I am able to bring voice to my throat where I whisper out that I am a friend of Tiffany's and she told me to find "Big Victor" when I got here and that he would take care of me. Goliath then places a hand on my shoulder and says that I have found Big Victor and any friend of Tiffany is a friend of his. In fact, he'd gotten a call from Tiff that he was to expect me and to treat me well, as I had literally saved her life. He goes on, "So, Patsy, here you are, under very false circumstances, but this is not a place to be without physical power or protection. Well, you don't have much to offer in the way of physical power, so your only other option is protection. Well, I'm the man that can provide you protection!" Thank you I say to him, not really knowing what else to say. He gives me a smile and puts his arm around my shoulder, very buddy like, at least that's what I think it means. No problem he says, and I ask what do I have to do to let the others know I'm under protection? Oh, he says, I think the word has gotten round, but, just to be sure there is no misunderstanding amongst the crowd, you'll do well to wear this. At that he reaches into a pocket of his jump suit and pulls out a brown silk scarf. It's identical to the one I saw on Tiffany and he hands it over to me. It lays in my hands and I look up at Big Victor with a bit of apprehension, whereupon he says that I don't have to wear it, but after all, I'm now under his protection and since my life really depends on that protection, it seems the very least I could do to show him respect would be by wearing the scarf. He sees my continued apprehension and goes on to mention that there are many in here who have received protection from their protectors, because they have more brains than brawn. There are those with skills such as locksmiths, accountants, etc. who couldn't punch their way out of a paper bag but are very useful. So, they also receive the protection the scarf affords. He finishes by saying I've earned my protection by my own act of protection towards Tiffany. I look down and say I suppose it wouldn't hurt, at which point he slips the scarf from my hands and proceeds to tie it around my neck. He pats my back and says now you are fully under my protection and that if anyone else so much as looks cross-eyed at me or in anyway degrades me, just let him know and the person will be dealt with. As he finishes saying the words dealt with, a broad and very devious smile crosses his face, his lips part and there in front is one silver tooth in a field of white. I can only imagine what being dealt with by Big Victor might entail. Abruptly, he stands up and says he has to go attend to other matters and that he expects me to sit at his table for breakfast each morning. The rest of the day is up to me, but that I am never to miss the morning meal at his table. With that he walks off, and those parting words weren't a suggestion, I was commanded to be at his table and shouldn't want to disappoint him. I had a feeling this protection hadn't been given without strings, but just having to take breakfast each morning with him seemed a small price to pay. The rest of the day went better than ever, the other inmates either quietly moved away or others actually said how pleased they were to see me there and how could they make my short stay more pleasant? All the scarved inmates would sort of bow or curtsey, like I was some kind of royalty, whenever I passed them. They really looked awed by my passing them. Now, this was beginning to be a little too bizarre but it still beat getting pinched and slapped, and especially someone trying to dry hump me with their dick in the crowds! That night, as I returned to my cell, I found Rudy laid out on the lower cot. I started to protest as I walked in and he immediately jumped up and apologized for having taken the upper bunk when he never had the right to it. His whole manner had changed, the sneering, sly smile was replaced with as true a look as he could ever hope to achieve. He went on to ask my forgiveness for his rudeness the past two days and that he hoped I would put in a good word with Victor. Uhuh, so that's what this is all about. The sniveling little toad! Well, I could really milk this moment for all it's worth, but it's just not in me to act that way, so I accept his apology and make my way up to the top bunk. I take off the brown scarf and tie it to the bed rail and wait for lights out. It's been another stressful day but tonight I sleep like a baby. The first real nights sleep in what seems like months. Chapter 4 I wake to Rudy giving a couple raps to the metal bedstead, quite a change from being pawed over by his greasy little fingers! I hop down and get a little freshened up while Rudy stands to one side. I look at him like what's with this? And he just shakes his head and says he can wait till I'm finished, no rush, no bother. Boy, he annoyed me before with his filthy little smile, however, I now find I'm getting annoyed by his undying loyalty and respect. I just shake my head and finish up and start to head out. He then starts to make a little "huh huh" sound while pointing to the bed. I look over at him with a "What now?" look with exasperation. Then realize he's pointing at the brown scarf. Oh yeah, the scarf, well, I suppose since it is my first morning with my protector and have been commanded to his table, I better show some respect to him and wear the silly thing. Better not to start off on the wrong foot around here. So, I untie the scarf and place it around my neck with the knot tied up just as Victor had done the day before. As I strolled through the corridors and across the cafeteria to the seat Victor had saved for me, I tried to walk with my shoulders slightly bent over and my head tilted down. I didn't want to show any kind of superior or arrogant manner to my body language. All around me, the other inmates showed nothing but respect and politeness for me as I would walk by. I did not want to take any special advantage of them in regards to being under Victors' "protection". I'd be civil and polite back, but I was just planning to wait out my four to six months and then be free of this place and to be back in Chicago at my desk. I came up and sat down next to Victor, who reached out and put his arm around me again, giving me a tight hug into him and gave me a great big grin. He mentioned I looked so ravishing in that brown silk scarf and he was so proud that I chose to wear it for him. I smiled back and said it was the least I could do for him considering. Though in my mind, I thought that he was being just a bit too familiar with me and how he gave me praise seemed, well, like to a loved one. But, again, I just let it go for now, too much to deal with all at once. The call was given and each of the tables got up in their order to get breakfast. Our table was like number two, so I was at the front of the line and I can see why this is a highly sought after position, you have the first picks on all the food and some of the choices cuts of meat and vegetables, hot eggs, so on are yours for the asking. I get up to the hot dish and start to ask for the gravy and biscuits, but Victor, who is right behind me, puts up a hand and says that I shouldn't eat that crap, it's not healthy for me at all. I'd get a heart attack within a week eating it. He points to the coddled eggs and oatmeal, which then gets served to my tray. I want to protest, but I figure I can make up for it at lunch. As I walk past the fruit bowls, Victors hand grabs my shoulder and he just looks down at the bowls. Okay, I'll take a fruit bowl, sheesh, this guy is starting to get on my nerves. He must think he owns me, or something. So then we come up to the drinks counter and I reach for the chocolate milk. Half expecting another directive from Victor, instead he seems not to mind this indulgence, but then he signals to the fellow behind the counter and he reaches down and produces a half-pint bottle of orange juice. I begin to raise my hand to say "no thanks", but he gives a quick glance at Victor and I let it drop. When we are again seated at the table I see that the few other inmates at Victor's table who are also wearing the brown scarves have the same basic meal as myself, including the bottles of orange juice. This seems unusual on several levels. First of all, nowhere are there any glass or porcelain bottles or dishes of any kind. They are extremely forbidden due to the nature of what you can do with them, should one be allowed into the population here. Secondly, only those of us with the scarves get them, and only those at Victor's table. A scan around at the other gangs' scarves shows no such privilege. How deep does Victor's connections run here I wonder? Likewise, all the other brown scarves have essentially the same meal as myself. It's hardy enough and not what I'm used to. I hope this isn't an everyday thing, because, having to pass on those trays of gravy and sausages, shredded potatoes, etc., this just isn't going to cut it! I grab a fork and begin to attack my eggs, when Victor's hand is once again on my shoulder. I freeze at the touch. He says before we eat, he always likes to say a couple words in thanks. Oh boy, is he some kind of religious nut case? Is this all a lead up to some kind of prison conversion to Jesus? I just knew there was a catch here and now I had found it. Well, I guess I'll just play along, I only have a few months of this and then freedom! Victor then folds his hands over his food, as do everyone else at the table, and of course I follow suit. He then recites some poetry, which sounds more like a verse from some rap music. It doesn't seem to say anything about being godlike or have really anything to do with religion. It's just about how we appreciate life and are thankful for the opportunities that are given us here and that we should make the best of them. He finishes his recitation with the words, "That we listen to the "man", and respect our protector, and seek a healthy life style". He finishes and then he raises his cup of coffee, while all the other non-scarved inmates raise their mugs. But since he didn't allow me any coffee, all I have is my chocolate milk and the orange juice. However, all the browns have grabbed their bottles and are ready to hoist them, so I grab mine as well. Victor smiles and wishes us the best of health today, and we all start drinking. I figure I'd take a sip and put the bottle back down for later, but as I'm beginning to bring it down, I notice that all the other browns are drinking theirs completely down and Victor is looking my way. Okay, I get the point and so I up end the bottle and finish it all the way down. I set the bottle down and Victor slaps me on the back, giving me a big smile and a thumbs up. Then says, that's the healthiest meal one could ask for and I like to see all my friends healthy! If that was so, then why weren't all the "friends" at his table drinking orange juice and only eating eggs and fruit? At this point in the story, I could go on about the daily life in prison, the constant attention from Victor about what I could or could not eat and drink. But really, not much was happening, and I fell into the daily groove, not really questioning Victor's ways anymore. I was safe and no one was trying to molest me in any way, in fact, the royalty treatment continued without any signs of let up. They were all fearful of Victor and no one wanted to get on the wrong side of that goliath. Even Rudy couldn't stop sucking up to me, he was always doing something or other to make my life easier in the cell and in the general population. I had finally accepted this and stopped being annoyed by his behavior. I simply took it in stride, along with all the rest of it. Within the first week of my arriving, I was assigned to the laundry detail and spent my days working the washing machines. Most of my fellow workers were those who wore Victor's brown scarves. It wasn't long before I learned that I had been given one of the most highly sought after positions at this pen. I really wondered who was running the place, the warden or Victor? Then, about a month into my term, I woke up with a terrible itch on my chest. I was trying to rub or scratch my upper chest area and found that my nipples seemed to be getting hard as I did so. Not only that but I seemed to be putting on a little fat in this area. Very disturbing to me as I thought I was getting very little fat in my diet. It must be due to just not getting enough exercise in here. I brushed it off for the day, but next morning, I again woke up with the itch and now there was a little tenderness associated with it. I asked the guard for a medical referral and later that day I was called to the medical ward. There I showed a doctor my chest and he poked and prodded me, then took my temperature and blood pressure. A couple minutes later he returned and told me that for what he could see, I was in fine shape, nothing that might be harmful to me. He said it was probably something in the water and that I should just give it a couple days, that whatever was causing the tenderness would probably clear up on it's own. If after a week or so, I still had tenderness, to go ahead and ask to get another exam. But that really, I shouldn't be too concerned about it at this time. He said there was one thing I could try and he went to a locked medicine cabinet and took out a tube of something. It was a silver squeeze tube, much like a toothpaste tube, but without any