Chapter 13

I pondered her ideology after she left. I figured that the only reason she was paying any attention to me was because I had something the other inmates didn’t. If it weren’t for the fact that I was a male, she probably wouldn’t have given me a second thought. I was only a piece of meat to her, I suppose. Now I knew how women feel when men treat them the same way.

But I wasn’t going to let it get me down. Maybe women had to deal with it all of their lives but it was new to me. And, having women use me for a dildo seemed perfectly fine. I guess being a male gave me a different outlook on being a sex toy to play with. Where girls looked for love, I only looked for lust. One thing was sure, Jones was all about lust and nothing about love. So, being her sex slave seemed all right with me. Besides, I couldn’t afford an honest relationship anyway. I was just as happy in lust instead of love.

After replaying the events and thinking up all kinds of responses I could’ve said to Jones, I was left with little else to do. It really brought the term ‘doing time’ to mind. Even the book was boring, going over things I already knew.

An interruption from my day dreams excited me when the cell block door opened, reminding me of the last meal of the day, and giving me hope of someone to talk. Miles was the opposite of Jones, wanting to be dominated instead of dominating me. I was a little irritated at Jones anyway with her attitude about me and maybe Niles would want to take some of my frustration out on her.

Thinking I could sway her towards my way of thinking, I scrambled out of the shirt and pants I had on. How a guy could look sexy in the buff to a girl, I hadn’t a clue. So, I tried sitting and lying down in different positions in the few seconds I had before her appearance. I ended up lying on my stomach when a shadow appeared on the cell floor.

You can imagine how surprised I was to hear, “Darling, you’ve forsaken under garments and now, all of your apparel, so it seems.”

I whipped my head around to stare blankly at the warden, coming through the entrance with a food tray in her hands. I scrambled to cover up my bare backside and ended up sitting with the blanket wrapped around me.

“Sorry” I apologized, “I didn’t know it was you coming.”

“Ah, you expected someone else.” she assumed, “But Officer Miles is off today so you know it wouldn’t be her.” she pondered aloud, handing me the tray.

“I don’t know their off days.” I contested, sitting the tray of Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and cooked carrots on my lap, careful not to stick my thumb in the pudding or lose the juice box.

“So you were expecting Mia.” she deduced, standing up straight in front of me.

“Who’s Mia?” I asked, picking up the plastic fork.

“Oh yes, Mia Miles, of course.” she explained, “But let’s talk about you.” she diverted, and looked around the cell thoughtfully.

“Me?” I retorted, thinking any thoughts about me couldn’t be good. “I’d rather not.”

“You certainly seem to be in a dismal place.” she noted, “Whatever do you do with your time?” she asked, stepping around in a tight circle, inspecting my accommodations

“Oh” I sighed, “Read, run laps, push-ups, and stuff.” trying to talk with my mouth full of steak and mashed potatoes.

“And be a plaything for the guards.” she added, ending with a smile.

“Got to do what I got to do.” I mused with a shrug.

Her smile faded and she replied, “I’m glad you realize that Mr. Darling.” and took a step closer to me.

She was so close, she invaded my comfort zone as her skirt brushed against me ... I actually leaned away from her as her feet landed almost on my toes. I couldn’t see her face hovering above me so I couldn’t read her facial expressions but silence seemed to say enough.

“I am inviting you to a party this evening.” she finally stated, leaning on the top bunk.

“Wow, that’s awful nice of you.” I chirped, but then grew suspicious asking, “Why me?”

“Darling, you will fit right in.” she assured me, “Besides, it isn’t like you have a prior engagement.” leaning down and offering me that smile again.

“I wouldn’t know how to act.” I argued, and crammed some carrots in my mouth.

The smile faded again and she furrowed her eyebrows, “You will act like anyone else in your position.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I mumbled through the mouthful of food.

“That means” she started, and pulled up on my chin with her right hand, “Do what I tell you and you will do fine.” and then patted my cheek.

“Ok, well” I shrugged, “I’m ready for a good time.” and took the last bite of carrots.

“So am I.” she agreed, and repeated, “So am I.” Standing up straight, she instructed me to be ready at seven, showered and dressed.

“What do you want me to wear?” I asked, knowing I only had a maintenance uniform or a prison jump suit.

“The maintenance uniform and make sure to keep your mouth shut about being incarcerated here.” she replied, looking at the tray I was handing back to her, “Do eat your pudding, desert is one of the only treats you will find here.”

I pulled the tray back reluctantly, remembering the tainted batch I had the last time I ate it. Thinking that if it were such a treat, then aren’t I the lucky one having it twice it one week. But I really didn’t think the warden would spike it so, plastic spoon in hand, I gobbled it down. Squeezing the last of the juice into my mouth, I dropped the empty container on the tray and handed it back.

“Good man.” she cheered, bringing back her smile. “Now take your shower early, I’ll be back for our little party.” she cooed, taking the tray from me.

“I’ll try, but there’s no clock to go by.” I pointed out, moving my legs out of her way.

“Best get ready now then.” she countered with a smile, and stepped out of the cell.

I had tried to send a subtle hint to the guards about a clock and got the same result from them as I did with the warden. I guess there was no getting any perks while you’re in the slammer.

I stood up, tossed the cover on the bunk and followed her out of the cell. I leaned up against the cell door and watched her stroll down the hallway. There was something about the way she said my last name that spooked me. It was like a Russian dialect or something but it reeked of condescension and made me feel inferior to her.

“Wear something sexy.” I called, as she opened the hallway door.

“Sexy is not the attire, Mr. Darling, it is an attitude.” she called back, and went out the door.

It was like she didn’t even notice that I was naked. She had to have some sexual urges; it was human nature after all. But her age might have washed it all away. I’ve heard girls don’t crave it like guys do to begin with; older women even less. No wonder cave men hit them over the head and drug them to their caves. I guess it was the only way they were going to get any at the time. Left to women, we wouldn’t have populated the planet.

After the door slammed shut, I headed towards the showers. I pondered the idea that a warden wanted a prisoner to go to a party with her. It made me ask myself a ton of questions. I got the impression that I wasn’t going to a party; I was going to be catering a party. Maybe she was going to make me serve food or park cars or something boring like washing dishes.

I stood under the water and thought of all the scenarios and concluded, by the time I had rinsed my hair, that whatever I was going to do, it sure beat doing nothing. I could be worried for nothing and wind up having a really good time. I hoped the party would put the warden in a good mood so I could ask her one simple question; how long did I have to stay in the basement?

I went back to my cell and put on the maintenance suit and slipped into the hard-soled bricks they called shoes. Like underwear, I didn’t have socks either so bare feet beat brutal boxes but I didn’t think the warden would let me get by with that. I could just hear her mouth saying, ‘This isn’t a pajama party.’

I snatched up the book to take my mind off of the time and read another two chapters, going slow and re-reading to try to comprehend what it was saying. But I was interrupted by the door banging open at the end of the hallway, the opposite door that I had never seen used.

A ruckus of laughter and chat echoed in the hall as what seemed like a crowd poured into my otherwise silent world. Muttering a ‘what the hell?‘ under my breath, I got up and stuck my head out of the cell.

People, dressed in white tops and black pants, carrying chairs with tables toted by pairs leaked in and spread out, setting up the furnishings in a line. More people behind them had table toppers, placing bowls of mints, napkins, and silverware wrapped in white. Three wearing guard uniforms surveyed their work and one seemed to be more familiar with the plans. She directed a pair to take a larger table to the end.

I watched as they passed, giving me a quizzical glance, and flipped the table to extend its legs, setting it down in front of my cell. After seeing this activity, I now knew where the party was and eliminated being a server as my role in it. I realized then I was only invited to it because it was being held down here. Looking back down at the busy entrance, I recognized one of the guards.

I stepped out and headed down to talk to Fitz, dodging the tables and chairs being arranged. Seeing my approach, she grabbed my elbow and maneuvered me out of the way of a large flat screen television followed by large speakers coming through the door.

“What’s up?” I asked, stepping beside her.

“Annual employee dinner.” she replied, watching the busy workers, “We celebrate the founding of the institution every year; you know, employee appreciation, silly awards, and all that.”