Imperfect Ch 03
- 4 years ago
- 22
- 0
I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I was scared shit-less when I was first locked up in my cell at a high-security prison somewhere in the wilds of the west country. I had never been incarcerated anywhere before. I had heard the rumours. Heard what happened to 'pretty-boy' lags like me in jail. I knew I could look after myself if I had to, but if I was ganged up on? Who knew?
My first day in there I met a man who was to remain a friend until his death a few years ago. An habitual criminal called Archie 'Rembrandt' Squires. He was just a few years older than me and I was to share a cell with him. I suppose you could say he took me under his wing, explaining all the dos and don't s; who was who in the prison; all that sort of crap.
He was, he informed me, the best forger in the country and was only locked up because he'd been grassed up by someone he'd sold a forged work of art to, who had then tried to sell it on at a Sotheby's auction ... Archie was a right laugh. He was relatively small in stature, delicate even, but also one-hundred percent heterosexual. He was just a really smashing bloke who happened to be serving 8 years for making money out of his hobby. He became my best friend when I intervened in an argument that was going on one day when I got back to our cell. A big bullying thug was threatening him for his 'ciggy' allowance, - demanding that he hand them over or he'd tear him a new arsehole. I made it quite clear that sort of behaviour towards my cell-mate wouldn't be tolerated and a swift kick to the bollocks further stressed the big man's understanding of the situation. From then on, Archie was my mate, watching my back and letting me know what was going on in the prison that I should know about.
Prisons are not quiet places: All night long someone is either coughing or sneezing; or singing as they try to forget where they are; or even in many cases, crying themselves to sleep. Guards are not quiet people either. Even if they wore rubber-soled boots, they would have their bunches of keys jangling on their belts as they walked the balconies during their constant night-time patrols. Consequently sleep is very difficult in prisons. Especially when you are locked up for the first time in your life. I was no exception. For weeks I suffered from insomnia, laying awake at night, totally unable to get to sleep. Archie would stay awake with me. Talking about anything and everything under the sun as he tried to distract me from the nightmare that my life had become.
I told him the truth about how I had come to be there. He believed me. The only person I felt ever did truly believe my version of events. In return he told me all about himself. How he was an orphan, never knew either of his parents or anything about them. Never even knew his real name, - he had been called Archie Squires after the man who had found him and handed him in to the police when he was an abandoned baby. As a baby, then a young child, Archie had been brought up in several Barnardos orphanages as he was moved around the country during the war. Never settling, never making friends he could call mates. He never even knew when his birthday was. Someone had told him his age once but they were unable to confirm his date of birth so he had picked the 21st of June as his birthday, - the longest day of the year, - wanting his birthday to last as long as possible whenever he celebrated it.
Gradually, with Archie's help, I managed to start sleeping at night as I became more used to my environment.
It was through Archie that I found out in advance that some sort of attack on me was being planned in retaliation for what I'd done to Karl Simpson. Turned out the bloke I'd accidentally killed was a small-time low-life who unfortunately was related to one of the main drug gangs in the city where I lived. I don't know if my ex-wife was into the drugs or whether she was with him because of his money and bad-boy reputation. Either way, it would appear I had deprived the bitch of her meal ticket and possibly went some way to explain her hatred of me at my trial, even going some way to explain why she lied in court as she did. Revenge for what she reckoned she had lost I suppose...
Archie pointed out that I would have to defend myself wholeheartedly when the attack came. I would be unable to placate whoever it would be that came after me. They wouldn't listen if I tried to talk them out of it the way my martial arts training had taught me to do. It would be me or them. No half measures. If I didn't finish them, they would finish me.
A few days later, several weeks into my sentence, the attack came. My path was blocked as I was leaving the shower block by two huge men, as tall as my 6'4'' but much wider, together with another shorter bloke who looked as mean as a starving rottweiler. The two big guys circled either side of me, whilst the ugly bloke blocked my path and pulled a home-made shiv from his sleeve, - a knife fashioned from a shard of glass. Weapons like that are much more dangerous than an ordinary knife. The intention being that they are stuck into the victim and then snapped off so even if the medics do get there before the victim dies, the glass is almost impossible to extract before he bleeds to death internally.
I knew instantly that I was not meant to walk out of there. The screws had conveniently disappeared leaving me to my fate, not caring one iota what was about to occur, - it would just mean one less villain for them to look after in their jaundiced view. My three intended assailants were certainly trying their best to frighten and intimidate me, telling me in great detail what they were going to do, how they were going to carve my chicken-shit body into little pieces. It worked, - to a certain extent anyway. Their confidence in their numerical advantage had turned into a blind arrogance as they surrounded me and cut off any means of escape I may have had, whilst the adrenaline surging through my body was making me a very nervous prey.
I had only maybe two small things in my favour. Firstly, they had no idea I possessed the defensive capabilities I did. For a highly-trained fighter, the fear for your life and the adrenaline surging through your body turns a mere man into a deadly war machine. Everything seems crystal clear; your concentration is at its peak; you have an enormous increase in your body strength too. But they didn't know that did they? - Secondly, and the one true advantage I really had, the one that could give me an edge, was the fact that I knew I would be fighting for my life whilst they were just doing a job.
Archie's words came into my head as we squared up to each other - "It's you or them my young friend." he'd warned me. With that in mind, all thoughts of avoiding a fight went out of the window. The bloke to my right was taken out with a kick to his leg with the heel of my shoe that agonisingly dislocated his kneecap and left him writhing on the floor. The one on the left received a 'roundhouse' kick to the face that broke his nose and a few teeth, leaving him spitting blood and snot as he sat back dazed onto his fat backside.
The ugly one was much more wary after his mates had been incapacitated so quickly, not quite as confident. He still had the advantage of having the weapon though. All the hours and hours of Karate training came to the fore automatically as I spun and gave him a backward kick to the head causing him to drop his weapon and fall to his knees holding his shattered jaw. I could have walked out then. I could have left them to their agony. But again, Archie's warning went through my brain. I had to finish it. I had to make a statement to any other of the prison lags who fancied their chances of ending my days...
I jumped behind the moaning shorter man, his weapon now useless on the floor as he held his broken face. Grabbing him around the neck, I hesitated only slightly as I gripped his newly deformed jaw and wrenched it sideways with all the force I could muster. All my pent-up anger came out at that moment. The hatred I felt; The despair; The revenge I needed; It was him who suffered for it. His body went limp. Instant death overcoming him as his neck snapped with a loud crack. I stood and glared at the other two, unblinking as I looked them alternately in the eyes.
"Tell whoever ordered this to come for me themselves if they want to finish me. Understand?" I growled quietly, making it quite obvious I was completely in charge of my emotions and there would be more to come if anyone wanted it. With that I calmly walked out of the shower block and went back to my cell to await whatever was to follow...
In prison, the worst offence for anyone to commit is to grass a fellow inmate up. It ranks up there with paedophilia and wife-beating in the eyes of the true criminal fraternity – the real hard-cases. Consequently, when my three assailants were discovered by the screws, all the two survivors would say was that they had all slipped on the soap and collided with one another.
The prison rumour-mill being what it was, every other person in the jail claimed to know what had actually happened in the shower block that day. Archie knew the truth, but I'm damn sure he never let on, so anything else was just rumour and conjecture as far as the rest of the inmates were concerned. What it did mean however, was that I was treated with a new-found fear, even respect by the rest of the prison community and given a wide-berth whenever I was out of my cell.
Of course a major inquiry into the incident by the police ensued. They never found out anything though, just what they were told by the two injured men as they repeatedly denied any wrong-doing. The investigating officers eventually gave up and settled for the fact that a highly dangerous and violent man was no longer part of the judicial system, and that it would save the tax-payer a small fortune in not having to keep him incarcerated for the rest of his sentence. The prison hierarchy was different though. I don't mean the governor or the rest of the prison officers, I mean the men who actually did run things in there.
All prisons have 'The Man'. Someone who the rest of the inmates are frightened of. Someone who runs everything. Every little scam that is going on. Even the screws know who is really in charge and go along with it if they know what's good for them. Our main man was a psychopathic killer called Billy McVie. - A London gangster who reputedly had an IQ of over 160 to add to his homicidal and criminal tendencies. He was the oldest of three brothers who apparently ran the biggest and nastiest of the major crime gangs in the country. They had their hands in everything. Drugs. Prostitution. Protection rackets, you name it, they controlled it. All this had added up to have made him number one on the police's most wanted list before they finally got their man.
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I went through my own Oedipal phase, and for probably a year, I masturbated with both incredible frequency and superhuman ferocity to thoughts of my mother. My folks were borderline hippies, and consequently nudity and sexuality were neither taboo nor dinner conversation topics. I saw them both nude more than a few times, mostly by accident, and I remember thinking that my mother's body, in particular, was a thing of singular beauty. I remember a few times, when my father was away traveling...
Author’s Note: This very short novel is a result of a writing challenge called NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month. The challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It is currently a hot topic on the Author’s Hangout, if you’d like to learn more. Please remember that the point of this challenge was word count and not quality. Read at your own peril:) The phone rang. It was my mother. ‘So are you seeing anyone?’ ‘Well, hello to you to.’ ‘Well?’ ‘No mom. No...
When I got home, Zoë greeted me cheerfully, asking if I had a good time, but requesting that I save the details for later, when we could put the images they would evoke to good use. Later after the baby went down for the night, I relayed my story telling her how excited he had been to hear the details of our girl on girl sex life. Zoë grinned from ear to ear, ‘Ironic, I’m so excited to hear about the two of you.’ She put her hand on my knee and gave me a good squeeze. ‘So was it painful or...
The phone rang. It was my mother. ‘So are you seeing anyone?’ ‘Well, hello to you to.’ ‘Well?’ ‘No mom. No one seriously.’ ‘What does that mean? You aren’t giving the milk away for free are you?’ I groan. I can’t believe that my mother really talks like this. I know for a fact that she wasn’t a virgin when she married, because I was born two years before that date. She knows I know too, but mom has a very selective memory when it comes to these things. She wants grandchildren, and she...
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Quick Stop is the local convenience store. There’s one on ever corner in Capital City and at least one in each town surrounding it. Here in East Capital, we have a few and I am lucky enough to live nearby one of them. Quick Stop is the place to go for milk, bread, donuts, coffee, ice cream, beer, cigarettes, snacks, candy and a myriad of other last minute essentials. Residence in this town don’t know how to get along without it, and most of them have worked there at some point in their lives. ...
Alone at last, I decided that the most relaxing thing I could do would be to give myself a pedicure. And after all, I deserved it. So I dug out my long abandoned hot pink nail polish and my nail care kit and set to work. I sat down next to the phone, in case it should ring, and plopped my toe separators in and got to work. No sooner had I started then just as I suspected the phone rang. Since I had been prepared for this, I simply picked up the receiver and continued on with my business. ...
Glen arrived in high fashion at 10 a.m., early in my book. I had barely dragged myself out of bed and into the shower when the knock came at the door. I hopped out and wrapped a towel around me. I checked the peephole so I know who it was and then flew open the door. ‘Hurry, come in, I’m not dressed,’ I said ushering him into the room and shutting the door behind him. ‘What is going on here, young lady,’ he lectured me. ‘You are supposed to be bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready to fly!’ ...
Hello!! All ISS fans. As it seems that I have endless stories for u! Are u enjoying them or not??? There is another fucking and sucking story for u. as you all are aware of me that I am Abhishek , 18 male living in east Delhi. The story is not real. It does not match to any living being present on earth. it is made by me only for your enjoyment .if anybody having any questions, comments or anything to say about the story can freely mail me on or enjoy it dudes and babes. The story starts from...
LesbianChris sat in a plush leather chair in the reception area. Already on his third interview of the week, he had been waiting half an hour. He was uncomfortable wearing a tie, and he fidgeted with his collar to relieve the stress. Although he had a good severance package when he left his last job over ‘artistic differences’, he was starting to worry. He knew he was over-qualified for this job, but at the moment he didn’t have a lot of options. As he sat back in his chair, he noticed a young woman...
Perfect Pervert Private Peeping Pissing Places are the hacked hot highest-tech toilets world-widePerfect perverts perform hot hacking intimate information from those toilets' candid cameras' cunts!Perfect perverse plan, isn't it, to provide my dear readers here with freshly filmed flicks from fannies?Perfect production, fresh foxy frivolic fannies frigging first gets my comment, compiled & copyrighted!Propose below seven sexy sequels, simple set-ups, camera from top, few times hidden in the...
PERFECT by BobH (c) 2011 A lot of beautiful women work in the London offices of the Buffington Group, and in the year since I moved here from my hometown of Leeds I've had most of them. And why not? I'm young, good-looking, have the gift of the gab, and I'm a total pussyhound. If you could get women to open their legs for you as easily as I can, you'd be a pussyhound as well. It didn't hurt that the only other guy in my department was gay. The thought of all that playing with someone...
The following story is a work of fiction and intended for ADULTS ONLY. If you are not an adult or offended by descriptions of explicit sex, please read no further. This is a copyrighted work. ©Copyright 2014 by EgyptOasis. Reposting or any other use of this work is strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder. DISCLAIMER: All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to anyone either alive or dead is purely coincidental. All characters in this story...
PerfectI am Roy. Some people wish they had my problem. Some people are glad they don’t.Abigail and I met in high school. She had a bad reputation of taking virginities from us guys. So everyone called her “The Cherry Picker”. I didn’t want it and she did, so, I said 'good riddance.'However, when it was my turn to take her to remove my virginity, I saw something more about Abigail than tits and a hole to cum in. She was smart, boy, was she smart. She was also caring and had a lot of potential....
CheatingThey say there are signs when your spouse is unfaithful. “They” are right, I just missed them till it was too late.My name is Robert, everybody calls me Bob. I have a good job working for an engineering firm. I have just turned thirty-one married to Debbie. We have been married for seven years giving birth to the other love of my life Isabell, or Izzy as I call my six-year-old daughter.I met Debbie technically on the rebound from her first and only boyfriend. They had dated for two years before...
Wife LoversNotes from Author: This story is quite the departure from my normal writing style. This story isn’t so much a hot fantasy, as a loving, romantic story, with what I hope is a hot love making session at the end. If you’re a fan of my other stuff and are reading this hoping for taboo, spankings, light bondage and the rest, look elsewhere. However, don’t worry, I’ll be back with more hot stories in the near future! As always, your comments and votes are most welcomed! ***** ‘Hey! Mr. Buck!’ I...
I work outdoors cutting grass for local housing estates and so one day there i was cutting the grass on a ride on mower out on my own a head of the rest of the crew and as I was mowing a big area of grass as I am sat up high on my mower I couldn’t help but see over the top of peoples fences and noticed this beautiful lady sun bathing out in her garden, she had the biggest and most perfect breasts i have ever seen laying out in her garden wearing nothing but shorts and a bikini top. She had the...