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“It’s cold,” I whisper in disbelief. All my bottles up until now have been piss-warm. “You’re welcome,” he grunts, then turns and leaves the cell without another word.
“You hate being here, don’t you?” His voice ripples into me, through the metal door, from across the room. “You hate being controlled…” “Yes…” I whimper, my eyelids drooping from how good this feels. But a loud smack on the door prompts them to shoot back open.
“You’re disgusting.” I bite my lip. “Mmm… yea. You fucking hate me so bad,” his eyes fall to my cock again. For some reason every time he does, it throbs at the attention. “You have no control, Dash. You’re helpless in here.”
“Normally I’d say no, but I can’t stand looking at that Uncle Kracker bullshit for one more second,”
“You don’t need to ask me for anything, Luscious,”
“Mmm… Those luscious lips,” he groans, his thumb stroking a small circle on my jaw. “Please suck, Dash. Please…” I have no idea what clicks in my brain when he begs, but something happens and it drives me to do what he wants, using my lips to suck his dick.
deep his balls slap my chin, over and over. “I’m gonna come down your tight throat, baby.”
I don’t want him to know some twisted part of me enjoyed some part of what just happened. I don’t know which part… It started out as the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but my body rarely reacts the same way my mind does.
“What do you say, inmate?” “Please,” the word escapes before I can process it. “Good boy,”
Plus Darcey’s with O’Malley right now… In the East wing. No one really goes there much. I don’t know why O’Malley is there. That’s all Velle. He just does what the Warden wants, and the rest of us have to follow their orders blindly.
Maybe we’re two mangled, jagged pieces who could click together, despite all the fires burning around us.
I want Dascha Reznikov to be my broken toy, in all ways. And I have a habit of getting what I want, especially when it’s the thing that could be my untimely demise.
When I pick it up, I can’t help the elation blooming in my chest. It’s a three-pack of boxer briefs. Fucking Calvin Klein. The expensive ones…
“Don’t cuff me. Please. I’ll be good.” He lets out a ragged breath, blinking slowly. “God… if you want to make me come in my pants, by all means keep saying things like that.”
“Callum,” he whispers from behind me while I doze. “Hm?” My fingers reach up to touch his arm. “My name… is Callum. Cal.”
hold up the device in my hand to let him see. As soon as his eyes drop to the cock cage, his head starts shaking frantically back and forth.
This one I’m using, though, is special. It has the ability to give an electric shock to the subject, via a remote that I’ll control.
It was basically breakfast in bed, and now I have a cage on my cock.
“This tight perfect ass. I’m gonna come so deep inside you, Luscious.”
When I’m away from him, there’s a physical absence I feel in my body, and my mind, like an electrical draw. A shortage. I feel like something is missing when I can’t see his perfect face; watch him do his push-ups until his arms shake or listen to him singing that goddamn song over and over because he thinks nobody’s listening.
I claimed him last night. I took something from him that I’m fully confident he would have given me willingly, eventually, if I’d had enough patience to wait.
My dick fills up fast at the images scurrying through my brain, hardening against my thigh as I bite my lip. Last night was my first time with a man… And now it feels like I’ve awoken from a thirty-five-year coma.
I drop the blanket and gaze at his face as he stares up at me, confusion lasting only a moment before he yawns and rolls onto his side, closer to me.
“Never. Not with an inmate… not with a guy.” I pause to let that fact sink in, for both of us. “You’re my first.” He seems to like that answer, his cheeks reddening a bit as his hand grips my cock through my pants, jerking it casually. “You were my first, too,” he says, breathlessly, as if it’s a turn-on to even be talking about this with me. I’d have to say, I agree. “I mean… last night.”
“You want me wearing your clothes, Officer?” My cock twitches as I gaze down at him. “I’d like to see you wearing only that.”
He shrugs and nods. “I guess. Still waiting on that toothbrush, though.” He purses his lips at me, and I clench my jaw to keep the amusement hidden. He’s so flirtatious today, I almost can’t believe it. Is he acting this way because we fucked? Does he feel more comfortable with me now? Was that really all it took?
Or he somehow blocked out what happened.
“Last night…” I swallow, rubbing his lower back with my hands while I grind into his ass. “Dascha, you’re a revelation. Do you know how incredible it feels to be inside you?” “No,” his voice scrapes as he turns his head. “Your ass is fucking Eden, baby,” I murmur in his ear, then lick the shell slowly before sucking the lobe between my lips. He purrs and pushes his ass back into me. “Fuck me.” He says it like a plea. “Fuck me again. Right now.”
I think Dash was made to be a bottom. Correction, my bottom.
“I want to see you.” Taking my cock in my hand again, I press the head up to his hole. “I want to watch your face while I fuck you as deep as I can.”
“Choke me,” he whispers, the green in his eyes shimmering while the brown darkens to nearly black. That’s all the go I need. My hands tighten around his throat and I hold him down while I fuck him, roughly, his moans becoming strangled cries while his ankles lock atop my ass to hold me to him.
This is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Dash is kissing me, and I’m kissing him back. I’m kissing a boy, and it feels so fucking right.
“I’ve never kissed a guy,” he tugs my face as close to his as possible with swallowing me. “I can’t believe you’re kissing me and fucking me…” “I fucking love it,” I rumble to him, the desperation in his tone and his frantic kisses jumpstarting my hips once more.
It’s like something has snapped inside us, and we’re no longer a prisoner and a guard; we’re not enemies, or opposites, or a stalker and his prey. We’re lovers, coming together in reciprocal desire. As rough and raw as it is when I slam my cock into him, it feels like we’re… making love.
“I’m coming so hard in you, Dascha… God, you’re fucking perfect.”
I think Officer Kemper and I are a thing. Where’s the vodka when you need it?
I’d love for you to wear my clothes up in gen-pop, baby, but it could get us in trouble.
He brought me ice cream… My favorite kind.
“You drive me fucking crazy, baby,” he mumbles into my mouth in between both of our heavy breaths. “I’ve never wanted a guy before, but I feel like you’re made for me.”
“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” his hands move to my front, tracing the curves of my pecs and teasing my nipples. “You’re fucking perfect, Dascha. You look like a wicked fantasy come true.”
It feels like this is something I never knew I needed until right now.
Kemper growls and sits up, putting us nose to nose, and I waste absolutely no time grabbing his face and kissing him, almost aggressively. I’m fucking desperate for his lips, and tongue, and those breaths that let me know I’m giving him good feelings.
“Cal… fucking fuck, Cal, that’s so goddamn good… fuck…”
Unintentionally or not, what’s done is done, and I need him to come to terms with what I know we are. We’re made for each other. He’s mine.
“Ren does them. I was thinking of getting one. Maybe we could do it… together.” My heart thuds. “You want us to get matching tattoos?”
I came in here raving about how straight I am. Only a couple months later and I have a boyfriend. And we can spare the obligatory prison jokes. I’m not his bitch.
Holding my wrists up, I observe the word My on the left, and Officer on the right. Exactly where I’ve been cuffed a million times since arriving at Alabaster Penitentiary, the most painful of which done by Kemper. My Officer.
“Yea. And you killed a twenty-two-year-old girl. Another bank employee. Karly Clayton.” A scream echoes, vibrating my temples so hard I have to close my eyes. “Do you know who she was, 101?” Velle’s voice probes my mind and I shake my head. “She was the Governor’s niece.”
“You killed two people, Dascha,” he goes on, stepping closer to me. “In cold blood. One of them, the relative of our fucking Governor. You’re not just a bank robber. You deserve to be here just as much as everyone else. Maybe more. Because you’re clearly fucked…” He scoffs and shakes his head again, sharp eyes holding onto me. Strangling the life out of me where I stand. “No…” I whisper in disbelief. “No, that’s not…”
I just found out I’m a murderer. Turns out I totally deserve to be locked away in a place I’m attempting to escape from later…
