Chapter 6
Six
It wasn’t CO Darling that came to deliver my breakfast the next morning. Nor my dinner — a room temperature bologna sandwich and a shriveled apple. My ghost had disappeared again.
So I spent my time in my own mind, keeping my hands out of my underwear, just letting my thoughts swirl around to drive me crazy. I liked it… when my sanity teetered. I didn’t deserve a happy, sane mind, not after all the things I’d done. Thought about doing again…
My problem was always my head, my way of thinking. If I had no distractions, everything only festered; the worst of them only took root and branches and flourished like a dirty disease.
I swirled around in it, lived in the madness, memories of all the men I’d killed, all those that I should have, swam with me.
My door opening made me look up in surprise, and for a stupid moment, I hoped it was Darling, come in to fuck me and ravish me and show me how much my charms had worked. To tell me he just couldn’t keep away. But — where the hell was he?
“What the fuck do you want?” I asked as CO Randal slipped into my cell, shutting the door behind him with an ominous snick. My eyes darted from the door before returning to him, hackles up.
He looked rough. Rougher than the last time I’d seen him.
I stood up, stepped away. He didn’t scare me.
His prettiness wanted to be disarming, but something about the way he held himself made him ugly.
And with his ungroomed, tired looking appearance as he moved closer to me, I should be unnerved.
The little hairs on the back of my neck prickled, but I held firm.
His whole vibe was off. It was dark and messy, like he knew he had the power and was going to fucking enjoy it. That power, I always came back to it. The need for it, the hatred that it belonged to someone else. Tension heated me, bubbled in my gut like vomit.
“I’m surprised to see you dressed,” he sneered, leaning against the door, showing me just how trapped I was. His baton hung from his belt, and for a split second I imagined shoving it up his ass like I had the bat with Lacey’s rapist.
But then his words snagged my attention. “What?”
“I heard you put on shows for the COs,” he said with a shrug, grabbing his nutsack as though he was in his own bedroom.
What?
My brow furrowed, and something uncomfortable squeezed in my chest. “Who told you that?”
Randal laughed like he was the king of his fucking castle and stood up straighter. “Take off all your clothes and maybe I’ll tell you.”
I took a few slow, calming breaths, shoving away that unpleasant sensation within me. It wasn’t okay, whatever was tickling at the back of my brain. It wasn’t okay.
This feeling, the sense of doom that settled in the pit of my body, took me to places I didn’t want to go. My nervous system ticked on, and flashes of before, of when I had power — the power to stop this, to fight back.
He pinned me down, drove himself into me while I begged him to stop. My fingernails clawed into the concrete flooring beneath us, my face smashed under his hand as he took took took from my body.
I got my revenge though. I turned around and killed him. Brutal. Sliced his raping penis off his body and showed it to him before ending his life.
“Stop frowning and take your clothes off, Karner,” Randal growled, a lot closer all of a sudden. I blinked fast, slowing the panic. I couldn’t do that now.
“Who told you that?” I asked again, my words careful. Something was churning in my gut, and I wanted to see how it played out before I did anything. Maybe I could suck his dick like I planned before, weeks ago. It might be enough.
Maybe if Darling was going around sharing our business, he wouldn’t work out. He was gorgeous, had this dark aura about him that made me nuts, but that might not be the best choice. Maybe he was testing me, testing this?
Randal, he was led by his dick; that much was clear. Dumb and not the most hideous to look at so an easy life for him.
Randal tugged on a strand of my hair behind my ear, having stepped right into my space. “If you take all your clothes off for me, I can get you private showers. The CO’s showers have warm water, cubicles. Privacy.”
I let my eyes widen, glimmer. That did sound good. If this had to happen, getting things from it helped keep that power.
“I can do you one better,” I said with a smile, bracing my hands on his chest, letting my thumbs roam over his pecs. They were decent.
Decent would do. Like the jokes I used to tell my victims, attraction made this easier to bear.
I sank down to my knees in front of him and looked up. I was daring Darling to show up now, to stop this.
“For that, I’ll get you whatever the hell you want. Let me take your ass, and I’ll smuggle you out in my van.” His hand returned to my head, roaming along my scalp, scooping a fistful of hair and tugging my head back so my face was strained.
Fuck, yes.
“Make me come, inmate, and we’ll see what happens next.”
I nodded and, with his hand still in my hair, pulled his cock free. Nose to tip with him once more.
Luckily, after a subtle sniff, it didn’t smell bad. He may be scruffier, but he washed, at least.
“Don’t waste any fucking time; I don’t have long.” He shoved his cock between my lips, and I sucked. My mind was on Darling, on those theories. He was right outside, testing me, teasing me, showing me he was the boss.
Randal was already most of the way hard, so it was a fast stretch, but I soon got used to it. He wasn’t enormous, a decent length, average girth, fit in my mouth well.
He was getting no frills from me. I just sucked him down, bobbed and swirled my tongue and worked him to a rapid, grunting orgasm. Nice and loud when I snaked a finger toward his ass. Over with fast and dirty.
When he started coming, I darted out of the way, letting it splatter over my shirt.
“Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing his cock and squeezing out the last ebbs of his orgasm, those last little pulsating spurts you could get out of a spent cock if you were committed enough.
He shuddered, curled his body over mine with a groan, and let his breath catch back up with his mind. “That ruled, inmate.”
I snorted a laugh. That ruled? I had the sudden urge to ask him his age; maybe I was wrong about him being older than me. Or maybe he just became a dumbass after coming. Frat bro post blow.
I stood up. “Shower then?” I asked, hopeful to wash him off me quick. A bit of grime was fine, but that private time. That alone time. I craved it. Here in isolation, I could be alone with my thoughts. But I wanted to be alone with my soap. Alone with my food. My fresh fucking air.
Eight years of this, and it was funny how much the little things seemed so big. Darling hadn’t bust his way in to defend my honor or whatever I might have thought, so I needed to pivot the fuck round.
But Randal laughed. Of course, he did. “You nearly killed an inmate, and severely injured a CO. You’re fucked if you think you’re leaving this cell.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth to steady my anger, studying him as he backed away, almost like he knew he wouldn’t be safe if he gave me his back.
Rage struck me like a bowstring, twanging across my muscles.
“Who told you to come here?” I asked, demanded, thinking of that severely injured CO who’d managed to jerk himself off well enough just days ago.
Randal shrugged as he reached the door and slipped through, slamming it shut behind him. Through the hatch, he said, “It’s a secret.”
And I was left alone with my thoughts again.
It was too damn quiet.
I sat on the floor and cried to make my eyes puffy. I dug my fingers into my biceps, squeezing and clawing, leaving nail prints so deep they would bruise. Bashing my head against the wall made my brain swim.
But I didn’t have long; those footsteps would return soon. Darling’s, Randal’s, one of the other guards, I didn’t know.
I picked my lips, scratched at them until they were raw and bloody. Then I slumped, let my body fall and remained motionless.
Had to be realistic.
And I still had his cum on my shirt. Idiot had walked away with the evidence drying on my clothes.
When the hatch slid open, the guard preparing to tell me to stand back, I whimpered, curled in on myself further.
“Inmate?” the guard, one of the female ones, questioned, shining her torch through the gap.
“Please,” I cried. “I need help.” I peered up at her, meeting her eyes through the hatch, and saw the moment she connected some dots.
She thought I looked ravaged, beaten. “Stay there,” she said before muttering something into her walkie talkie. “I’m just calling for backup.”
How fucked up was this system that a woman bleeding and begging on the floor needed backup?
It was fair, though. I’d manipulated guards into private spaces with me before. Never women though, I would never hurt her. She was safe with me.
Seconds passed before another guard arrived, and it was all a bit of a blur. I played it well, slipping in and out of consciousness, asking for help, begging them not to let it happen again.
They asked what had happened, and I just let myself drop.