Chapter 1

Jacky Wilson was on her bed crying when the doorbell rang. It was now over a week since her husband Jason had been found guilty of fraud and sentenced to twelve months in prison. She hated waking up without him in her bed, and couldn't get used to not having to get up early to make his breakfast and see him off to work. She felt empty inside, knowing it was going to be a year before she again had a reason to get up early. Except she would have to get a job, very soon. She couldn't afford to live off their dwindling savings, his legal expenses had been horrendous even though he had pleaded guilty. She just couldn't get motivated to make such a change in her life, somehow going off to work would be almost a betrayal of him, an acknowledgement that he was gone from her life, even if only for a year.

She wondered how he was, she knew he must be terrified, and she feared for him. He had been released on bail awaiting sentencing, and during this time he had spent many nights sobbing while she cradled him in her arms. She hadn't fully understood his concern until, going into his study a few days before his trial, she had found the computer still open and discovered he had been googling the phrase "prison wife".

She had never heard the phrase before, and assumed it must apply to women like her, left behind when their husbands were locked up. She was shocked when she opened the article he had been looking at, and read, "A prison wife is an inmate who befriends a fellow prisoner, and thereafter performs the duties normally expected of a wife. This is normally in exchange for protection, or just to avoid being passed around the other prisoners like a box of chocolates. Such wives must defer to their men. They are expected to do domestic work, for instance keeping the husband's cell tidy and making his tea. Most importantly, the wife is expected to be constantly available to her husband for sex."

The doorbell rang again, lengthily this time, forcing her to stop thinking of Jason. Obviously it wasn't just some door to door salesperson, whoever it was clearly wasn't going to go away. She forced herself to get up and pull a dressing gown on over her long cotton nightie, and went downstairs. She kept the door on its chain as she opened it, and peeped out. "Yes?"

The big burly man outside, maybe forty years old and wearing a smart grey suit, showed her an identity card, showing that he worked in the prison. She realized later that he hadn't given her his name, in fact she was sure that he had held his thumb over the name on the card when he showed it to her. He said gruffly, "Can I come in, I need to talk with you."

"What's it about? Is Jason okay?" Surely they couldn't have beaten him to death already?

The man gave a grim smile. "Yes, he is okay at the moment, but that's what I want to talk with you about. Perhaps you had better listen to what he has to say." The man held out what she took to be a mobile phone, inviting her to take it through the gap in the chained door.

"I'm not allowed phone calls with him yet."

"No I know that, this is a tape recorder. It's just a recording I want you to listen to. But I'm sure you will recognize his voice. Understand that this is totally unofficial; I have arranged it because I knew how important it was for him, and I hope for you too. Please, just listen to what he says." She put her hand out, took the machine, and shut the door so she didn't have the man watching as she listened to her husband, no doubt crying and saying how he missed her.

She did recognize his voice despite the tears. "Darling this is Jason, you have to help me. Please, you won't believe what they are threatening to do to me. Well, maybe you can guess, there's enough about it on the television nowadays. Baby, already I've had to do things that revolt me. But then these are things that you have done for me, so I am wondering, could you bear to do them again? Do them for me but not actually with me?"

Her face went pale as she listened to his words, knowing just what he meant, understanding exactly what he was asking of her. He wanted her to have oral sex with men so that he wouldn't have to! She was left wondering whether she could actually do what he wanted, and how she would have to do it, who with, how, or when. Obviously the man outside her door was here to explain all that. Probably he would something from her right now! Tears were pouring down her face as she realized the recording had stopped. She stood leaning against the wall, her body racked with tremors, as she wondered what she could do.

Reluctantly she opened the door, passed the man's recorder out to him, then took the chain off the hook, and asked him if he wanted to come inside.

She asked him to sit down, asked him if he wanted a drink. Even though it was early, she was definitely going to have one herself, so she was glad when he said he would like one. Fetching the drinks gave her time to think about her situation, but she hadn't had any great ideas by the time she walked back out to the living room, handed him his drink, and sat down opposite him.

The man sipped his drink, then asked, "Do you understand what your husband is trying to say?"

She nodded. "I think so yes."

The man smiled, as though relieved he didn't have to spell it out. "You quite sure?" She nodded again, her hand shaking as she took a gulp of her drink. She looked up at him, eyes tearful, face pale, cheeks flushed.

"Just in case, let me explain. He wishes to avoid becoming a Prison Wife. Are you familiar with that term?" She nodded slowly, suddenly realizing that the man was enjoying spelling it out. "Yes. I read about it on the internet."

"Excellent. So, what would you say is the main responsibility of a Prison Wife?"

She shuddered as she remembered reading the description. She looked down and whispered, "To be constantly available to her man for sex."

She sat miserably watching him as he lent back sipping his drink and letting his eyes rove over her. She was 28 years old, long brown hair, and she realized the thin dressing gown and nightie were not hiding much of the shape of her 34C breasts. She gulped her drink down and quickly excused herself to get another one.

In the kitchen she stood wondering what to do. She thought back to the night she had first read those awful things on the internet. She had found out that, if an inmate couldn't find someone to protect him, someone to accept him as his wife, the inmate would be fair game to all, and would likely be forced to do oral sex, or take sodomy, from everyone stronger than him! Or groups of men!

She knew that Jason would never survive in that environment! He was sweet and gentle and loving, but quite incapable of defending himself against men wanting to use him that way. No wonder Jason was having difficulty sleeping! He must be dreading it.

Reading more about the prison wife situation, she discovered that wives were called up for oral sex a lot, not just with the husband but with other men, and also that wives were often sodomised by the husband. She could see that even that was better than being available to everyone, experiencing pack rapes.

After reading internet articles on the topic for an hour, she had gone up to their bedroom and sat for a long time by the bed watching him sleeping fretfully. She wanted to wake him up and talk it over with him, but what could she say?

Since he was first charged, she had been encouraging him to have as much sex as he wanted, to take his mind off the future and to give him some pleasant memories for when he was alone in his cell. But after reading that article she realized how inadequate she had been as his sexual companion. Her idea of making love 'often' had been once a night at the most, whereas she now knew that a prison wife had to give oral sex to his man a lot more than that! Without being specific, one of the articles even expressed it as 'A LOT!!!'

At first she had assumed he would only be doing it for his new prison husband, but reading on she discovered that the typical prison husband would make his new wife do it for all his friends, just because he could, showing off his new possession. And he would also make the wife do it for anyone else in the prison, including the guards, who could provide favours or cigarettes in return. The article made it clear that this also could happen several times a day.

When she walked back in, the man was still lounging in Jason's chair. "Where were we?" the man said. "Oh yes, I remember. You said, correctly, that the wife must be constantly available for sex. Your husband is now in a position where he must either become a prison wife, or as they say, be handed around like a box of chocolates." Jacky guessed that this man had read the same article she, and Jason, had read.

"But there is a the third option, which is that the man might be able to offer something else up instead, enticing enough that those in power will protect him in return for it. That's what your husband is doing. He is offering you." He sipped his drink, letting his words sink in. She shuddered, but nodded to let him know she understood. "I am sure you don't want Jason to become a prison wife, do you?" She shook her head. "So you accept the other option, that you will take his place? Provide sexual services to the men who can protect him?"

She bit her lip and nodded, trying not to cry.

"He has asked me personally to look after you. I think you know what that means. I suggest that you think of me as your husband from now on. Until he is released in twelve month's time." He smiled at her but said nothing more.

After a few moments of silence, she nervously asked, "So what must I do?"

"As you said, you must be constantly available to your new husband for sex."

"I see. To you. Until Jason is released."

"Exactly."

She sat silently, having trouble breathing. Would she be able to cope with this? Could she live with herself if she refused, and Jason had to provide prison wife services for the rest of his time inside? What would he be like after twelve months of that, how would he cope with life, with her, when he was released?

She looked up at the man. "Will Jason have to know?"

"He will guess, when people start leaving him alone. I promise you he will be very grateful to you for saving him from what is happening now."

"So it has already started?"

"Some, yes, he has sucked a few cocks, but so far mostly it's been threats, he quickly offered you as his option, and we have gone easy on him since while you decide whether to help him. Meanwhile he has been told exactly what will happen if you don't take up his request for help, and that is why he sent you that tape recording. He desperately wants you to accept this offer."

The man sat quietly watching her, one eyebrow raised, as though expecting her to know what to do next. Looking at him now, at the lustful look on his face, she could see that he was very confident that he was about to get what he wanted.

"If I do what he says, how can I know it will help him?"

"If you do what we want, we won't make your husband do it. You are much more desirable to us all."

"What exactly must I do?"

"Each day you will receive an email with an address and a time. You must go there and do what you know is required with whoever is in the house."