Rehabilitation Part 13
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Rehabilitation - Part 6 free porn video
Thursday 6th March, 2020; 16:27
What would you have said? Agree to Marcus being my cellmate and
rehabilitation partner, or say no and run the risk that Miss Stevens
brought in Jackson Lyons tomorrow, with no option of declining? I wasn't
happy about it at all - but in those 10 seconds (and I'd needed all of
them) I'd reasoned Marcus was probably the lesser of potential evils.
There was still the risk that I had been one of the group harrassing his
younger sister and that he might have been selected by Miss Stevens in
order to get his revenge, but weighing him up as he slouched on the sofa
I'd figured he wasn't too much bigger than other black guys I'd beaten in
fights. As he'd stood up at the end of the session, however, and drawn
himself up to his full height, I realised I'd been mistaken.
Maybe if I'd been listening to Miss Stevens more I'd have already heard
that Marcus was about a foot taller than me. Maybe if I'd actually spent
a bit of time looking at him instead of darting venomous looks I'd have
seen how muscular and firmly built his frame was. He had the build of a
professional boxer - and could well have been for all I'd been listening
earlier - and I was starting to see how he'd been able to capably fight
off 5 other guys in defence of his sister. Once again getting angry and
not thinking things through properly had been to my detriment - I really
needed to start listening and using my brain if I didn't want to go
digging myself into an even deeper hole. I couldn't help but feel Miss
Stevens was still taking things steady with regards to her rehab
programme.
I'd been lost in thought all the way back to my - our - cell, and I
supposed Marcus must have been too as we made it there without speaking a
single word to each other. The guards unlocked the cell door, the click
of the keys reminding me neatly of the lock tight around my cock, and
Marcus strolled in, his frame taking up much of the door. He wasn't in a
hurry, and I squashed in behind him with irritation before the guards
swung the cell door firmly shut, locking it before their footsteps
disappeared off into the distance.
Perhaps I should describe the cell a bit more than I already have. It had
always seemed a decent size, with more than enough space for us both when
my old cellmate Trevor had been here, but with Marcus I felt as if the
walls had taken a step in towards us. That said, the cell was probably
the size of a decent master bedroom in the outside world - it was
definitely bigger than my crappy bedroom back home, but then I'd never
had to share that. I'd had my comfy double bed to spread out in, my TV,
and a wardrobe. The contents of the cell were a bit different:
Bunk beds sat bolted against the right hand wall - mine was the bottom
bunk. Contrary to popular belief, the bottom bunk was actually the more
popular one in prison - you didn't have to climb up and down all the
time, it was more private, and you were further away from the harsh
striplights on the ceiling that rarely, if ever, fully dimmed - meaning
your sleep was often better. Plus you had space under the bed to stash
whatever stuff you were legally allowed to have - Trevor and I had always
shared the space, as I didn't really have anything.
The middle of the room was mostly empty - it was precisely where I'd have
stuck the double bed if this was all my own cell - and used to walk
around in and do basic exercises (push ups, etc.) to prevent you going
stir crazy. The last things in the cell were against the left hand wall -
a sink and a toilet. Shit, I thought to myself, how was I supposed to use
the toilet and keep my chastity device hidden from Marcus? I was assuming
from what Miss Stevens had said that she'd not told Marcus anything about
it, so how was he going to react if he saw the tiny pink cage between my
legs?
I was snapped out of this moment of concern, however, by the sight of
Marcus slouching his hulking form down on the bottom bunk - my bottom
bunk.
"Hey!" I snapped, stepping forward. "That's mine," I huffed.
"Nope," Marcus coolly replied, not even looking at me. I snorted,
crossing my arms.
"Look, bitch. You're new in this cell. I don't really want you here. I
only said yes back in Miss Stevens' office because I felt sorry for you,
understand? I can go right back there and tell her no - then you'll
actually have to face the consequences for the crimes you committed - no
clean rap sheet, get it? So move your arse," I growled.
Marcus laid back on the bunk, stretching out as he got comfy, which just
infuriated me more. I stepped forwards again and grabbed his orange
uniform top. "Look," I began again, pulling at the fabric, but Marcus
enveloped my hand with one of his own and held down firmly - not hard,
but firm enough to hint that he could squeeze down much harder. I felt my
cheeks flush with anger as he calmly sat back up and rose to his feet,
pushing me back steadily as he moved.
"Look," Marcus huffed, gazing down at me dispassionately. I glared back
up at him, but with each passing second of appreciating the size
difference between us my anger waned. "I don't know what kind of weird
arrangement you've got going on with Miss Stevens, but like it or not I'm
a part of that now - and I won't have you fucking it up," Marcus
continued. "I don't deserve to be in here, and I certainly don't deserve
a criminal record that'll follow me around for the rest of my life just
because I was protecting my little sister from jumped-up white boys like
you. So you and I are going to get along, and play nicely for Miss
Stevens, and we're getting out of here as soon as we can. Then I can
forget about you and you can forget about me. Until then - the bottom
bunk is mine. And we won't be having any more arguments about it, got
it?"
I was biting my tongue so hard I thought it might bleed. If my hand
hadn't been stuck in the vice-like grip of Marcus' fist, I'd have
struggled not to throw a punch. I didn't want to agree with what he'd
said, but the fact of the matter was he was essentially correct. If the
relationship between us broke down, I couldn't imagine it would be Marcus
getting bent over Miss Stevens' knee and spanked. Marcus and I held each
other's gaze for only a few seconds, neither of us saying anything, but
we both knew the message that he'd just got across - he had won this
round.
"Fine," I spat through gritted teeth.
"Good," Marcus exhaled. "Now, I'm going to let go of your hand, and
you're not going to do anything silly. You're going to get your little
white arse up into that top bunk, and you've going to behave until we're
called for dinner and evening recreation." I couldn't even muster up the
strength to reply to that comment - I was using every ounce of my
willpower available to not lash out at the intimidating black bastard.
How dare he talk to me like that? I fumed. Marcus released his grasp and
I shook some life back into my hand as he huffed and turned around to lay
back down on the bed. Violent thoughts flashed through my mind as I saw
the back of his head turned to me, but that was the sort of gamble you
only lost once. I grumpily stomped up into the top bunk, adjusting the
threadbare sheets underneath me, and lay there sulking until dinner.
I say I was sulking until dinner. For most of the time I was desperately
fighting the urge to piss. It was bad enough that I'd have to try and be
discreet with the chastity cage every time I went to the loo, but I'd
hoped I'd be able to sneak across when Marcus was asleep. With me now
having to climb down from the top bunk each time, however - and given how
creaky the metal beds could be - there was very little chance I wouldn't
disturb him and draw his attention to me. So I waited. Staring at the
dull glare of the striplight on the ceiling, fighting the urge to wet
myself, struggling with the heightened sensitivity of my cock inside its
impenetrable cage... struggling with the presence of Marcus below me, his
deep, steady breathing running through my mind like a buzzsaw.
I was worried about the reaction of the other inmates when they found out
I was sharing my cell with a black guy. Sure, I'd never really had many
friends amongst the other inmates apart from Trevor, but I couldn't
imagine the crowd I'd been running with would tolerate me any more. I'd
got on with them because they were decidedly 'anti-black guys', but much
like I'd never been comfortable with sexual harrassment or assault when
groups I'd been a part of indulged in it on the outside, the vibes given
off by the 'white and proud' group in prison made me uneasy too. More
than ever I missed Trevor - we'd both hated black people for running riot
in our country and wanted them back where they came from, and neither of
us took it any further than that. I didn't want black people dead, after
all - just out of my way. I'd never thought of myself as a bad person, so
to speak - I know I wasn't great, but...
"You jacking off up there?" Marcus rumbled, snapping me out of my
thoughts.
"What?!" I gawped back. "No!"
"You're making the top bunk squeak with all your fidgeting. Whatever
you're doing, pack it in - I'm trying to concentrate!" Marcus snapped. If
Marcus had known about the chastity cage he'd have known I definitely
hadn't been masturbating, but it hadn't been until Marcus had spoken up
that I'd realised how much I was tossing and turning with anxiety. I
really needed a good nights sleep at the end of all this - what felt like
the longest day ever - and I couldn't help but feel I wouldn't get it.
Falling back into impatient thinking, I wondered what Marcus was
concentrating on, but only briefly - I honestly didn't care much.
With no clock or natural light in the cell there was no way to tell how
much closer time had ticked towards dinner, but I had a horrible feeling
it was still a while off...
Thursday 6th March, 2020; 21:07
The evening had been, predictably, an alienating one. Word had obviously
travelled, because I found guys who I would normally have sat and hung
out with turning their backs in disgust. I wanted to tell them it wasn't
what they thought - I still hated black guys just as much as they did, if
not more - but it would have been more dangerous opening that box of
madness instead of just accepting the shunning. Jackson Lyons, on the
other hand, hadn't frightened me quite as much as I expected when he
passed by me in the canteen - but then I'd been expecting him to be as
out for my blood as he had been for Trevor's. I'd still been on edge as
he walked past, cronies in tow - but instead of sinister threats slipped
my way if anything I'd heard faint laughter - though I didn't know if I
was just getting paranoid. I still felt as if everyone could see straight
through my (tighter-fitting) prison uniform to the pink chastity cage
beneath. I'd never really considered myself an anxious person before
coming into prison - a good nights sleep, that's what was needed. Or
maybe Miss Stevens could give me something to help chill me out - her
tea, sickly tasting though it was, never failed to soothe my mind and
body.
At least I'd managed to fit in a quick wee before Marcus had made it back
to the cell after evening recreation. He'd obviously been working out in
the yard and swung by the showers, as when he stepped into the cell just
before the guards locked up all the doors for the night, he was shirtless
with water dripping down his chiselled torso.
"Good evening?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I almost didn't want to
give him the satisfaction in replying, but as he seemed to be the only
person other than Miss Stevens talking to me at the moment, I could only
resist for so long.
"Eh," I shrugged from my perch on the top bunk. "You?"
"Yeah," Marcus nodded, walking into the centre of the room and
stretching. "They've got decent gym facilities here, don't they? Do you
use them much?"
"Uh..." I began. In all honesty I didn't. I did the minimum exercise
required at the communal time and mostly just jogged round the yard a few
times. I hadn't stepped foot in the gym. "Not really," I replied, trying
to keep my replies brief but also amicable.
"You should," Marcus said. "It'll do you good to work off all those
nerves. Make you less twitchy. And there's loads of positive mental
health benefits to exercise, too, which you'll need in prison."
"What are you, my therapist?" I quipped, wondering where on Earth he was
going with this. Far from getting snapped back at in reply, however,
Marcus let loose a deep chuckle, shaking his head.
"I did sessions as an assistant personal trainer before my life in here,"
he replied. "Was trying to work my way up to being a physiotherapist, or
something in sports training, you know? It's good to have an aim,
something to work towards - hell, even just as a hobby," Marcus smiled
slightly, resting his thick arm against the metal railing of the top
bunk.
"I'm sorry for being grumpy with you earlier, Josh, but you did start it
all. You just need to chill out - we don't have to be enemies in this,
okay? The way I see it, we just have to knuckle down and get through this
year, which will fly by what with your daily sessions with Miss Stevens
and all that. Then we'll be free to get on with our lives and all this
will be an unpleasant memory. Hell, maybe it'll make us better people,"
Marcus shrugged.
"Yeah... I guess," I shrugged in response, not wanting to be too
committal. I still didn't like Marcus all that much, or the thought of
being cooped up in a cell with him, but at least he didn't seem to be
some murderous psychopath. Miss Stevens could certainly have picked a
more challenging candidate.
"Look, after your session tomorrow come with me down to the gym. I'll
show you some basic routines - it's the least I can do for being grouchy
earlier," Marcus offered. "How's your hand?"
"It's fine," I sniffed. "I don't know when my session will be, though -
the guards tend to just come grab me," I added, trying to find a way out
of being dragged to the gym. It was bad enough for my reputation with
people knowing I shared a cell with a black guy, let alone working out
with one. Plus there was every worry that he'd try to make me shower
after, revealing the chastity cage...
"I don't have any other plans," Marcus grinned. "It's a date!"
Friday 7th March, 2020; 09:27
I hadn't slept well at all, despite how exhausted I'd been at the day's
developments. It felt like a lot had happened, but in hindsight all that
had really occurred was being told to use a different shower from now on
and being introduced to my new cellmate. Nevertheless, I felt shattered.
The chastity cage was becoming more unbearable with each passing moment.
More than anything I just wanted to rip it off and furiously masturbate -
was this what withdrawal felt like? My balls felt full, my cock strained
fruitlessly against the cool pink plastic - it was torment like I'd never
experienced.
Marcus, thankfully, didn't snore - but I had been certain at one point in
the night he'd jerked off. His breathing had got deeper and the frame had
rocked gently - but the longer it went on the more certain I was that he
couldn't have been masturbating. No-one had the stamina to jerk off for
as long as the noises went on for - it must have been him moving in his
sleep - but despite that the sounds tormented me more, fuelling my own
desires to masturbate.
I must have slept for a bit, however, as when I awoke to the sound of
movement outside the cell Marcus was laid on the floor in the middle of
the room doing shirtless sit-ups.
"Morning!" he called cheerfully as I sat up, bleary-eyed. "Sleep well?" I
shook my head in response.
"Not really," I yawned, stretching my arms. "Couldn't get to sleep for
ages. You sleep alright?"
"Like a log I'm afraid," Marcus smiled, springing to his feet. "At least
after I let off some steam - hope I didn't disturb you? I know I'm not
the quickest." Sleep-deprived and dopey, I didn't quite get what he was
hinting at at first.
"What, with the sit-ups? I'll be honest, I didn't hear you get up - the
last thing I remember hearing was you making some weird deep breathing
and-" which is when my mind caught up to my mouth. He had been wanking
last night! "Dude! And you told me off for masturbating!" I cried,
ignoring the fact that I actually hadn't been. One awkward thing at a
time.
"I didn't tell you off for jacking off," Marcus corrected, a cheeky grin
on his face, "I told you off for shaking the bunk beds. Nothing wrong
with a healthy masturbation now and then!"
"Tell that to Miss Stevens..." I muttered under my breath.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing..." I grumbled, climbing down from the top bunk. Being sat
on the top bunk had made me forget once more just how much taller Marcus
was compared with me. I found myself craning my neck up to talk to him as
he continued:
"Look, I hope I didn't give you the wrong idea yesterday - I'm perfectly
happy if you need to jerk off now and then as long as you're quiet and
clean," Marcus explained. Trust me Marcus, I thought to myself, I'd love
to if I could just get this damn pink contraption off my cock. I don't
think I'd quite appreciated what it was like to have the freedom to
orgasm until it had been taken away. Being dependent on Miss Stevens for
any hope of orgasm felt very humiliating and submissive.
As if summoned by the thought of her, there was a knock at our cell door
and the guards opened it up.
"Josh Meadows? Time for your session with Miss Stevens," explained the
two guards stood outside.
"See you later, Josh," Marcus said. "Don't forget our plans for the gym
later!"
How could I forget?
Kaylin
- 03.12.2022
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