Grayson State Correctional Facility was the last stop for many inmates who had personal, psychological, and personality issues. On paper, it was equipped to handle them, with a budget for counsellors and treatment facilities. In reality, the money was used to pad the pockets of those in authority. It was just another prison. It was overcrowded and always on the verge of revolt. And another delivery of prisoners had arrived.
The air inside the intake corridor was hot and humid on Len's exposed skin as the guards marched him through a series of mechanized doors. As each closed behind him, he felt his body jerk. The handcuffs on his wrists bit into his exposed skin, leaving red impressions that would eventually fade, unlike the pain he felt in his gut after being separated from the only two friends he had ever known.
While Jed and Ralph had taken to prison life easily, Len had spiraled. He hated being restricted and caged. He had only made it a matter of days before he had been assaulted. Ralph had stepped in to beat off his attacker brutally, but as the walls closed in around him, Len fell into a deep depression. The facility he had been at was not equipped to handle his issues, and he had been shipped one hundred miles away to Grayson. But in reality, all that the system had done was relocate the problem, not solve it.
"Spread 'em," barked a guard as Len and five other transfers came to a halt.
Len complied, assuming the position he had learned during his first days after his incarceration. His legs were apart, and his arms were extended. The guards moved up and down quickly, searching for places where contraband might hide. His clothes were stripped from his body, his mouth was examined, and he bent over to have his ass probed. There was no dignity here. Not for him.
"Move!" the guard yelled as Len grabbed his prison jumpsuit again and was pushed naked into the next holding area.
"Michaels, Leonard!" a guard called.
"Here, sir," Len said flatly.
"You are in block D, cell 237," the man replied. "Forward and to your right. Follow Officer Jones."
Len nodded and walked forward, his bare feet on the floor and his ass on display. He held his clothes in front to hide his cock and balls.
As he passed through another gated area, he could hear the calls of the inmates beyond.
"Fresh meat! Fresh meat!"
The chant came from hundreds of prisoners in their cells, watching and sizing him and his fellow arrivals up. Len did not flinch. He did not even look up. He just faced forward, following Jones as he walked down one corridor and around a corner. As he passed the cells, he could hear the catcalls.
"Now that is a pussy I want to taste!"
"See you in the showers later, bitch!"
Len still did not react. He felt his hands shake, but he hid the movements in his wadded clothes. He took one step at a time, feeling the cold concrete beneath him, letting it ground his state of mind. Here, he was alone. He had no one to watch out for him.
The memory of Ralph flashed back into his mind.
"Nobody talks to my friend like that!" Ralph had growled as he gripped an inmate's neck and threw him to the wall before pummeling him senseless.
Len closed his eyes and took a breath. He had never sought out violence. He had always tried to avoid it. But he had always failed.
Ralph had always protected him. Jed had always given him purpose. But what had that cost him? He had robbed. He had dealt in drugs. He watched as his friends beat up the defenseless. He had even raped women. He deserved to be in prison. He had earned his punishment. But deep down, his soul was tortured.
The guard walked up a flight of stairs, and Len followed. The landing led down even more rows of cells until they reached their destination.
"This is you, Michaels," the guard said as he pointed.
Len entered the small concrete and steel room and saw a man with tattoos scaling his neck like invasive vines staring at him.
"Top bunk is yours," the man growled as he pointed upward.
The cell door slid closed behind him as he dropped his shirt and prepared to put his prison pants back on. As he bent over, his roommate just grinned and nodded. Len heard a sound from his mouth and turned to see him wink at him.
"Nice ass there," the man replied coldly.
Len closed his eyes and turned away. He took a deep breath as he put one leg and then the other in the pants, and then retrieved the shirt to put it on last. He then moved to the ladder, climbed up into the bunk, and lay back, feeling the mattress sag beneath him.
The man below pushed up at him and whispered.
"Let me know if you want some company tonight, sweetie."
Len could feel his hands shaking again.
"I am not going to survive here," he said to himself.
Len tried to rest his eyes, but his senses were too on guard for him to fully sleep. After several hours, the cell doors opened again, and a buzzer announced that dinner was being served. Len slipped on his prison-issued flip-flops and took a deep breath as he followed the line of inmates as they made their way down into the cafeteria.
The room was filled with men of all shapes and sizes. They all gathered at their preferred tables. Some were grouped by ethnicity or race, and others by gang membership or pecking order. Len had always been one who could read a room. He had an instinct for where danger was and how best to avoid it. He eyed the tables near the back, near the entrance, as his best option. It was near where some guards stood and seemed to be populated by quieter inmates who seemed to be on their own.
After getting his tray with what looked to be portions of a beef stew with white bread and milk, he made his way to the table and sat down. There were two empty seats on either side of him on both sides of the table. He took a breath, held his head down, and began to eat, hoping that he could get a moment's peace. That, however, was not to be his luck.
"Mind if we sit here, newbie?" came a deep voice from behind him.
Len turned to look up and saw a very large Mexican man putting a hand on his shoulder. Tattoos covered his arms and peeked out from behind the tight t-shirt he wore over his chest, which was thick with muscles.
Len gulped. "Umm... sure."
The man just smiled and motioned for the three men who were with him to sit down beside and opposite Len.
"My name is Carlos," the man replied. "These three here are my posse: Rafa, Javier, and Miguel."
Len nervously looked as the three other men, thinner but still ripped with muscles, nodded back at him.
"Nice to meet you all," Len replied.
Carlos dabbed his bread in his stew and eyed Len for a moment before continuing. "You aren't what I expected."
"Huh?" Len replied.
Carlos smiled. "You are Len, right? Part of the Three Kings?"
Len looked dumbfounded, but nodded.
Carlos laughed and patted Len's back. "Figured as much. Ralph was an acquaintance of mine. I helped coordinate that shipment of coke two years ago. The one that nearly got busted by the cops in the warehouse district back in Lubbock?"
"Oh, yeah," Len replied, trying to sound normal.
Ralph had often used outside men to help move large quantities of drugs over the years, but had never told him who the contacts were. It was something Len was happy to stay ignorant of.
"But how did you recognize me?" Len asked.
Carlos grinned. "Oh, I have my fingers in a lot of pies around here."
The man across from Len, the one named Rafa, spoke up next.
"Yeah, we got word they were shipping some new guys here. We bribed some guards to get the details. Always good to know who you will be dealing with, right?"
"Exactly," Miguel said next to Len. "You know, so you can determine if you got new bitches to have fun with or ones to avoid."
Len tried to laugh. "Yeah, well, what do you think I am?"
Carlos laughed loudly. "Don't worry, man. We aren't here to beat you up. I had respect for you three. Ralph was a fucking hell of a gangster. I once saw him punch someone so hard he nearly died from the impact."
Len nodded and looked at his plate. "He had anger issues."
"That is for sure," Carlos said with another laugh. "And I heard you were the brains? Had to be, because that Jed fella was an idiot."
Len rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Well, that is good," Carlos replied. "My homeboys and I have a lot of connections, but having some analytical brain to make sense of some of it could help out a lot."
"What do you think, man?" Javier asked from next to Rafa.
"Think?" Len asked.
Carlos grinned and turned slightly towards him. "Listen. In prison, you are either part of a gang or you are a piece of ass. I am not going to lie, you aren't going to make it through the night without being gang raped and turned into someone's slave."
"Sorry, man," Rafa replied. "It's just the truth."
"And you don't get those STD shots here," Migel added. "Tons of shit going around. Things that will make your ass rot."
Len gulped and looked at Carlos. "What do you want?"
Carlos smirked and dipped the other piece of his bread into Len's stew. "As I said, we need some brains." He ate the bread and then turned to face Len completely. "We have some things in mind here, and I could use your skills. In return, we will protect you. No one else on this block will mess with you if they know you are under my hand."
Len gulped and looked at the four of them before turning back to Carlos. "No strings attached?"
Carlos laughed. "You help me, and I will help you. That is the deal."
"What do you say, esa?" Raga asked.
"Sure," Len replied. "I'm in."
"Excellent," Carlos replied. "I already have the guards working on a cell move for you. You will be rooming with me from now on."
"What?" Len replied.
"You don't want to be sleeping with that asshole you are with tonight," Miguel replied.
"Yeah, he might knife you in your sleep for fun," Rafa added as the men laughed.
Len looked back at Carlos. "So... uh... thanks?"
Carlos smiled. "Eat up, man. We will help you get settled in."
After dinner, the four men gave Len a guided tour of the facility. It was clear that they had been residents for some time. They knew all the schedules for the guards. Knew who to trust and whom to avoid. They had even mapped out the facility in such detail that it rivaled an architect's plan.
Len was impressed. They seemed nice enough, but his guard never let down, not even after they escorted him back to his cell to collect his things and then relocated him to Carlos's cell, which was located at the far end of a wing away from prying eyes.
The room was still made of concrete and steel, but it seemed larger. Instead of bunk beds, there were two beds side by side, with a sink and toilet combo in between. Posters of scantily clad women were stuck to the walls, and Carlos looked to have high-quality linen and towels at his disposal.
"Is this standard stuff?" Len asked.
Carlos howled. "Nah, man. I told you. I have a lot of connections around here. I have been here two years now. But I know who to talk to. It is all about who you know, right?"
Len nodded. "I guess so."
Carlos took his shirt off and dropped his prison-issued pants. Len was amazed at the intricate tattoos that covered every inch of his dark, muscled frame. His white boxers were also struggling to contain a massive bulge underneath.
"So," Carlos said as he kicked his flip-flops off and sat down, "what exactly did they get you for?"
"Huh?" Len asked as he slipped his footwear off and sat on the bed opposite Carlos.
"What did they arrest you for?" Carlos asked again.
"Oh," Len replied with a smile. "Fucking cops had some undercover agents that infiltrated us. Two chicks. We thought they were just dumb prostitutes."
Carlos grinned as he sat back and rested against the wall. "They bust you?"
"Not exactly," Len replied. "One of our dealers called to warn us about them. I freaked when I found out. Jed called them up for a meeting, and Ralph and I quickly bound them up."
"Oh, yeah?" Carlos asked as he flexed his enormous feet and scratched his crotch. "Then what?"
"Jed figured he wanted to teach them a lesson," Len replied. "He used a knife to tear their clothes off and then fucked them both while we watched."
"Nice!" Carlos replied.
Len shrugged. "Jed figured he wanted to beat Ralph to the punch. He never liked sloppy seconds."
Carlos laughed. "So, who went next?"
"Ralph," Len replied. "He had been stroking his cock the whole time Jed was mounting. It didn't take him long to nut in both of them. Nearly beat one senseless when she tried to fight back."
"So you got sloppy thirds, huh?" Carlos smirked.
"Yeah," Len replied. "I mean, it was hot, and I was horny. But..."
"What?" Carlos asked. "You ain't a fag, are you?"
"No!" Len replied. "I've never been fucked. It was just... I don't know."
"Uh-huh," Carlos replied. "So what happened after that? You kill them?"
"No," Len replied. "Though Ralph wanted to slit their throats right after."
"Why didn't you?" Carlos asked as he put his right arm behind his head, exposing his bush of armpit hair.
"I just didn't want that," Len replied. "I mean, we could have sold them to a pimp I know."
"You know he would have probably raped and killed them after you did that," Carlos said.
Len shook his head and ran his hand over his face. "Yeah, well, before we got that far, the police showed up. Apparently, they had already got the word out when we called for them."
"Fuck," Carlos replied.
"Yeah," Len said. "Before we knew what was happening, we were booked for rape, attempted murder, drug possession, and a ton of other charges from the sting the girls had run on us."
"Pendejos," Carlos replied as he drummed his fingers on his thick thigh. "No chance of parole?"
"I mean," Len replied, "maybe when I am in my sixties."
Carlos laughed and stretched. "Well, listen. I don't plan on being here that long."
"Oh?" Len replied.
"Let's just say I have put some things in motion," Carlos said with a grin. "And your unique skills are going to help."
"I just don't want to be involved in anything violent," Len replied.
"I'll watch out for you," Carlos replied.
A buzzer sounded, and the lights went out. Len blinked for a moment, adjusting to the pale light of the moon coming through the small window up above. He stared across at Carlos, who seemed to be just watching him.
After five minutes, Len finally spoke. "I guess I'd better get some sleep."
Carlos just nodded but didn't move as Len moved to get under his covers. The hair on his neck began to stand on end. There was an electricity in the air that seemed to give him unease. Still, as he rested his head, he tried to focus on getting what rest he could.
"Night," Len replied as he closed his eyes.
Several more minutes passed, and he heard the mattress across from him squeak and groan as Carlos shifted. Then there was silence. For a moment, Len began to breathe normally again until he felt the mass of the body that landed on him.
Len's eyes shot open as Carlos forcefully pulled back the covers, ripped his pants off, and forced him onto his chest. The large man's massive hand reached around and held Len's mouth closed as he leaned close to Len's ear.
"Relax, baby," Carlos said softly as he rubbed what felt like a beer can-thick, erect cock over Len's exposed ass. "This can go one of two ways. I can take you hard, or I can take you slow. As I told you earlier, you aren't going to make it through the night without being fucked."
Len screamed into Carlos's hand as the larger man just chuckled.
"I told you. No one here will mess with you. But the price is that ass belongs to me whenever I want it."
Len began to cry as he felt Carlos lick his finger and probe the virgin ass below him.
"Damn, baby!" Carlos whispered seductively. "You are so fucking tight!"
Len began to sob, and Carlos rubbed his head. "Shh. Shh. Just relax and tell me how you want it? Should I force it, or will you give it to me willingly?"
Len felt the hand slowly release its grip on his face.
"Please don't," Len pleaded.
Carlos spoke with a deeper voice directly in his ear. The sound made Len's body tremble. "I'm fucking this pussy one way or the other. Tell me how you want it, bitch."
Len was now shaking. "Please don't hurt me."
Carlos smiled as he rubbed Len's head again. "Then you need to relax and let me in. Are you going to do that?"
Len's body was now shaking violently as he nodded. "Yes... Yes, Sir."
"That's a girl," Carlos said as he spat on his hand and then ran two fingers over Len's exposed hole. "Papi knows what he is doing. You just bite this pillow here and let me have that cherry, okay?"
Len nodded as Carlos removed his hand and pulled the pillow up for him. Len bit down on it hard and closed his eyes as he felt the larger man mount his thighs and spread his cheeks.
Carlos spat heavily on Len's hole. He rubbed his index finger around and then pushed inside, causing Len to scream into the pillow. The larger man reached down and pushed his head farther into the pillow.
"Now, you listen," Carlos said. "Scream all you want, but if you alert the guards, it will be bad for you. Okay?"
Len just nodded as he tried to muffle his face more.
Carlos's large hands ran down Len's thin frame and cupped his ass cheeks. The finger went inside his hole again, followed by two and then three. Len was sobbing openly on his pillow as he prepared for what was to come. He felt the large cock slap against his ass three times, and then precum was smeared in his hole next.
"Here we go, baby," Carlos said. "Let's pop that cherry."
Len's eyes shot open as the thick, uncut dick started to push inside him. He bit down hard and shoved his head as far as he could into the pillow and mattress to muffle his intense screams. The pain was nearly unbearable.
"Fuck, yeah, baby!" Carlos whispered. "Damn, this pussy is hella tight!"
Len gave a death grip to the pillow as Carlos went in further. It was like a hot poker was being driven deep inside his guts. He could also feel the sheer mass of the man that was connected to it and knew that if he wanted, Carlos could literally split him in two.
When Carlos bottomed out, Len felt the massive balls of the man rest on his. He leaned forward and rested his mass on Len's back, causing the air to be driven out of his lungs. Carlos bearhugged his torso and whispered in his ear.
"Time to fuck, baby."
What followed was brutal. Carlos pounded hard and fast into Len with abandon. The thin man was screaming into his pillow with every thrust. The pain was so intense that Len nearly passed out. The bed squeaked, the mattress dipped and rebounded, and Len's asshole was torn open.
"Damn, you feel so good!" Carlos growled deeply.
Len cried. Not just because of the pain. But because he now realized what he had done to those women. Pain was temporary. It would pass. Trauma was forever. As his ass was taken, Len recognized what he had gotten himself into. He was Carlos's bitch now. He was going to be raped constantly. His ass no longer belonged to him. He was a piece of meat to be used... just like how they had treated the two cops.
"I deserve this," Len sobbed to himself as his body was rocked. "I deserve all of this."
The fuck continued. It lasted forever. Carlos came. He fucked more. He came again. He fucked more. Len lost time as his mind was overwhelmed.
In the morning, Len awoke to find a beam of sunlight falling on his tear-stained face. He was still face down in his bed. His pants were around his ankles. His ass, crusted with blood and cum, was still in the air. He turned to see that Carlos was in bed, snoring contentedly. He turned and felt the pain in his body. Everything hurt, but his asshole was on fire. His mattress made a sound as he moved, and Carlos coughed, opened his eyes, and turned to look at him.
"Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?"
Len was still in shock. He didn't know what to say.
"You were right, that ass was tight," Carlos said as he reached down and scratched his balls.
Len looked down and saw the massive morning wood that the man had. He had to be at least ten inches long and thicker than a soda can. Carlos saw the expression on his face and laughed.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll give that pussy of yours a rest this morning. But just be prepared. I like to fuck before bed and when I wake up." He smiled and then laughed again. "And maybe once after lunch, too."
A tear fell down Len's face, and Carlos turned towards him. "Don't worry, baby. I told you. No one else here will ever touch you. You are my bitch and my bitch alone. Not even my posse will be allowed to touch you. Okay?"
Len was shaking again. Carlos just sat up in bed and stretched.
"Tell you what," Carlos said. "You come over here and just put that purty mouth on my dick and give me a blowjob. That will give you something to focus on."
Len looked at Carlos's eyes and saw that this was not a request.
"Yes, Sir," he replied as he slowly got out of bed and got to his knees in front of the man.
***
The next two weeks became routine for Len. He was fucked three times a day by Carlos, and while it was brutal and he was in pain a lot, he was indeed protected from all other threats. If an inmate even looked at him wrong, that man would end up in the infirmary by the end of the day. To Len, Carlos reflected all the aspects of Jed and Ralph in one body. He could be cruel, but kind. Brutal but gentle. Manic but zen. The fact that Len could never figure out what mood Carlos would be in from one moment to the next was the scariest thing, but he soon learned not to fear him. While he was the man's personal fuck toy, he was treated in all other ways like a brother or son.
Over time, Len began to learn more about how they operated. Miguel, Rafa, and Javier were Carlos's eyes and ears. They smuggled things in and out of the prison, knew which guards to trust and which ones to avoid, and had the respect of the entire cell block. By association, Len did too. Soon, prisoners began to be deferential to Len, and he soon found that the best cuts of meat and the largest slices of sweets were reserved for him. He found fresh, high-thread-count linens on his bed that were cleaned regularly and large, soft towels to wrap in after his showers. The bathrooms were always less crowded when he was inside, and voices were kept low. It was as if he were the consort of an emperor.
The third week after his arrival, a meeting was called, and Len found himself at a table in the exercise yard surrounded by members of several of the most powerful gangs in the prison. Carlos sat in the center, and Len was to his right. In front of them, hand-drawn notes had been made on the back of a wrapper from a can of beans. It was the culmination of an escape plan that had been set in motion long before Len arrived.
Security at the prison was tight, but there were holes. Carlos had managed to find most of them, but had been surprised when Len noted others that no one had considered. His analytical brain soon went into high gear as they began to calculate and scheme. It would not be easy, but a path forward began to crystallize.
"So, where are we at?" Carlos asked.
A large, black man across from him spoke up. "Everything is in place. I have support from all the gangs on the block. Everyone knows their roles. We just need the last pieces."
Carlos turned to Len.
The planned escape was designed to encompass three separate events that had to be intricately timed. It would happen at three in the morning. This was the one time period during the shift changes when the guards were at their lowest number. A storm would be rolling in mid-week. The intensity of the weather would provide both the perfect cover and the best distraction to ensure the highest level of success. One group of inmates had cut into the main lines that powered the facility. They had jury-rigged a device that, when triggered, would short out the entire system. Simultaneously, though, a backup system would also have to be disabled. A separate group had planned to accomplish this by sabotaging a sprinkler system in a back hallway.
With the power out, a third group would cause a distraction by releasing those men in solitary confinement. This would divert a certain number of guards to the lower levels, leaving a path through the cafeteria open. Drawing on Len's experience from his youth, Carlos and those in his inner circle would force their way through the food prep area and onto the back dock. A guard had been paid off to ensure that a delivery truck would be on site at that precise time. All that would be required would be to overpower anyone in their way, and under the cover of the storm, they could drive away to freedom.
Len's role would be critical. He had spent hours thinking of everything that could go wrong, mapping out alternate paths, and even coming up with decision trees that could assist them if they ran into problems and needed to think quickly.
"I have been making friends with the main kitchen manager," Len said. "I managed to steal his key to the back door last night. He hasn't noticed it is gone, but we will need to leave this Wednesday."
"Not a problem," a thin, white man replied. "Everything is ready to go. The main question is who gets to go?"
Carlos smiled. "Everyone at this table has a place in the van."
"But there are a lot of others in my crew!" the white man replied.
Carlos turned, and his face grew more serious. "We have room for six others. You all can pick one other member, but no more."
"And how are we going to convince them to participate?" said another inmate.
Carlos turned and smirked. "Lie to them. We all do that every day. Listen, I am not going to sugar-coat this. The plan is risky. Some of us may get hurt. Some of us may die. But I promise you most of us will get out of here if we work together."
Len watched as they continued to discuss the plans. Carlos was correct. A lot of things had to go right for this to work. But it could work. The path forward was possible, but a growing unease had been nagging him as the day approached. Carlos had intentionally kept parts of the plan from him. He knew it. The man had discussed corralling and locking threats away, but for the plan to work, Len knew that violence... lethal violence was possible. He didn't want that. But he was a part of this. There was no backing down now, and he did not want to spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Two days later, things moved forward. The final puzzle pieces fell into place. The sound of thunder in the afternoon signaled that only hours remained. In the dark of his cell, Len watched the light flash across the sky as Carlos nutted in his ass for a second time. As he felt the big man pull his sweaty body off his back, he turned over. Carlos gripped Len's erect cock, and the thinner man quickly moved back and forth, fucking Carlos's hand until he orgasmed. It was his reward for being a good girl.
Carlos walked over to the sink to wash his hands as Len looked at him. "So, this is it?"
"Yup!" Carlos replied as he cleaned his cock off in the sink. "Only a few hours to go."
Len watched as the big man turned the water off and sat down on his bed.
"Thank you for breeding me, Sir... and for letting me cum."
Carlos smiled. "You are a good bitch. You planning on sticking with me on the outside?"
Len paused before answering. The truth is, he hadn't thought that far.
"I don't really have any other options, Sir," Len replied. "Would you let me stay with you?"
Carlos shrugged. "Sure. You have been a lot of help. But I will warn you, I plan to return to fucking women on the outside. That pussy of yours is nice, but I have to do with what I can get in here."
"I know, Sir," Len replied.
Carlos smiled. "You would make a nice little plaything on the side, though, if you are interested. That mouth of yours is pretty talented."
Len smiled. He had been amazed by how deeply he had become attached to Carlos over the past few weeks. It wasn't love. It wasn't respect. It was a dependency. Carlos had displaced the hole in Len's life that Jed and Ralph had left open. He trusted him. Sure, Carlos used him. He treated him like a slave at times. But he knew where he stood with the man, and that was comforting.
"Glad to continue to practice with you, Sir," Len said with a smile.
A crack of thunder and lightning tore across the sky, and Len jumped. Carlos just laughed and turned to grab a box under his bed. He lifted the metal lid and retrieved a set of pants and a shirt, as well as tennis shoes and socks.
"Where did you get those?" Len asked.
"You didn't think I was gonna break out of here in a prison uniform, did you? They would have stopped that truck at the entrance. Here." Len saw him pull out a separate set of clothes and shoes and pass them over to him. "These are for you."
Len's eyes widened. "Thanks!"
Carlos nodded. We only have a few hours to go. Best get some sleep. I will wake you when it is time.
"Sir," Len asked as he put the clothes beside him. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Carlos replied.
"That truck won't fit everyone in the plan," Len said. "We will be lucky to fit eight in there."
Carlos grinned as he reached under his bed and pulled out a gun. Len's eyes bugged out in response.
"Don't worry," Carlos said. "The only ones leaving here are you, me, Rafa, Miguel, Javier, and the three leaders of the dominant gangs. Everyone else is either going to be dead or locked away."
"Fuck," Len replied.
"No witnesses," Carlos said as he cocked the gun.
The next few hours passed fitfully for Len. He tried to rest, but he couldn't. The storm grew fiercer. The thunder rattled the walls as the sky was split with light, and heavy rain poured down. More than a few times, he was startled by a bolt of electricity that seemed to strike mere inches from their window. Then, a hand was on his shoulder.
"Time to go, baby," Carlos said.
Len turned and saw that the big man was dressed in his new clothes, and the gun was tucked into his waistband. Len quickly reached the floor and retrieved the garments Carlos provided him, and wasted no time in dressing.
A particularly strong bolt of lightning arced across the sky, and at that very moment, the dim lights in the corridor went out. At the same time, a click was heard, indicating that the bolts holding the cell doors closed were released.
"Let's go," Carlos pointed as Len moved forward and opened the cell door.
As they entered the corridor, they could already hear a growing sound down at the other end. Inmates were beginning to gather and make a ruckus. This attracted the attention of some guards. At the same time, another group of inmates threw sheets over them and began to hit them with bars, while others were attacked with shivs.
Carlos and Len made their way down a separate hallway and into a closet. On the floor, a large vent in the wall was loose, and they crawled through the opening to enter a maintenance passage. Soon after, they ran into the large black man whom Len had seen earlier.
"The group is making its way to solitary," the black man said. "So far, so good."
Carlos grabbed his gun and flashed it. "No worries. I got us covered if there are any unforeseen situations."
"The fuck you get that?" the black man replied in shock.
"What difference does it make?" Carlos said as he pointed down the hall with the gun. "Let's go!"
Len led the way, and the black man followed behind with Carlos in the rear. The group weaved through a path that Len had studied for hours so he could navigate even in the dark, though a few of them hit an occasional pipe along the way.
When they reached the end of the corridor, Len kicked at the base of the wall, and another vent shot out, allowing them to exit. What they walked into was a riot. Across from them, nearly thirty prisoners were screaming and hitting objects as several guards tried to contain the mallee. Almost instantly, a white gang leader, along with several of his lieutenants, showed up.
"It's getting out of hand here," the man said, blood dripping down his forehead from an injury.
"My men are around the corner," the black man said. "We can regroup there and make our way to the cafeteria."
"I think it is best if we take separate routes," Carlos replied. "If we all go together, there is a greater chance of finding resistance."
"That wasn't the plan, dog!" the black man replied.
Carlos pushed the gun into his shoulder. "Do you really want to argue?"
"Fuck, man!" the white man shouted. "We don't have time for this shit. We will take the route by the library."
The black man growled. "I'll take my men through the bathrooms, but you better not fuck us over, Carlos!"
Carlos nodded as they split up. Len then followed him as they climbed up to the second level and then made their way down a corridor until they found Miguel, Rafa, and Javier. Then they climbed back down to the main level and made their way to the cafeteria.
When they neared the room, they saw that a guard had been hurt and was leaning against a wall with a gun in his hand. Two other guards had riot shields and were fighting back a group of inmates who were on the opposite side of the hall.
"Move it!" Carlos replied as they made a run for it.
As they neared the wounded officer, Len heard a loud bang. He turned to see that Carlos had discharged one round into the man's head, killing him instantly. The reaction was swift. Another guard, who had been out of sight, came around the corner and shot Rafa dead with a bullet to his heart. Javier screamed as he and Miguel then attacked the guard in reaction. Behind them, Carlos could see things unravelling. He pointed to the cafeteria.
"No time to wait on anyone else. Make a run for it!"
Len crouched and dashed for the serving area. Behind him, he could hear Carlos shooting twice more. The sound of the gun discharging reverberated in the room.
As they entered the back area, Carlos slammed the door shut, and Len turned back to see that he was bleeding from his side.
"What happened?" Len screamed.
"It is just a graze," Carlos said as he latched the door shut.
"What about Miguel, Javier, and the others?" Len asked.
"Fuck 'em," Carlos replied. "Open the fucking back door, bitch. Let's get out of here!"
Len shoved a hand into his pocket to grab the key and went for the door to the receiving dock. As he unlocked the door, a bolt of lightning hit the guard tower across from him, briefly blinding him as the crack of thunder and the concussion nearly threw him off his feet.
"Fuck!" Len screamed as Carlos pushed past him.
"What are you waiting for?" the man yelled back as he headed for the truck that was parked exactly where it was supposed to be.
What followed next almost played out in slow motion. Len saw Carlos jump down to the ground and head for the driver's side door. Three guards appeared, guns raised. Carlos lifted his gun, but the guard fired. Carlos's head exploded at the same time as his chest and thigh. His body twisted in a circle as it was thrown against the truck and fell into a heap.
Len screamed. He fell to his knees as the guards approached him next. Instantly, he threw up his hands and spread out on the floor as he felt the impact of a bullet in his thigh.
"I surrender! I surrender!" he screamed before the guard fired another shot.
He felt his arms pulled behind him and bound tight with a plastic tie before he was shoved to the side and the guards entered the facility to help with the chaos unfolding within.
Len sobbed. Blood poured from his leg, and he grabbed it instinctively. As he turned, he saw the body of Carlos. The man who had once both protected and violated him. He was barely recognizable as the rain poured down over his remains.
"I'm fucked," Len groaned as he passed out from the trauma.
When he awoke again, he found himself in the prison infirmary. Hours had passed. His leg had been bandaged, and he was in chains in his bed. Around him, other injured inmates were similarly restrained.
Five guards had died in the escape attempt, and ten more were seriously injured. Thirty inmates, including Miguel, Rafa, Javier, and most of the leadership of the various gangs, were dead... scores more were wounded. The response had been immediate. A total lockdown had been initiated. Inmates were interviewed and others sent to more secure facilities, and Len found himself in front of a judicial panel.
"Prisoner Michaels!" the lead judge called out.
Len stood. Guards were on either side of him, and he was in chains, dressed in his prison jumpsuit once again.
"You have heard the charges before you," the judge continued. "This is a preliminary hearing, however. You have a right to go to trial, but I promise you that your chances of avoiding the death penalty are slim to none."
"Yes, Sir," Len replied softly.
"However, you have another option," the judge said. "If you would like to forgo trial, you can choose permanent slavery. You will be taken from this place, processed, and sold. There will be no parole and no reprieve. You will be at the will of the man or group that purchases you."
"I understand, Sir," Len replied.
"And your decision?" the judge asked.
"I choose slavery, Sir," Len replied.
"Very well," the judge replied. "Leonard Michales, on this day, you forfeit your rights as an individual and willingly place yourself into slavery. On a personal note, I want to state that if it were up to me, you would be strung up and summarily shot for what you have perpetrated here. Good men are dead... family men with wives and children. The fact that you can still breathe air while they cannot sickens me."
"I understand, Sir," Len replied as a tear fell down his face. "But I hope as a slave I can do some good in this world through my service to make up for all the terror that has resulted because of my actions."
"I doubt that is possible," the judge replied as he banged his gavel.
Len was grabbed by the guards and led down a long corridor to a waiting van. Inside, he saw several other inmates who had participated in the escape attempt. They were naked and chained in the back. As his clothes were cut from his body, he offered no resistance. As Len was locked into a metal chair, he said nothing.
The ride to their destination was long, and they only had one stop to piss on the side of the road. When the doors finally opened again, he found himself at the Texas Slave Market.
Len was pulled out of the van. A metal cock ring was placed around his genitals. He barely registered the words that the surrounding men said as he was processed and then taken to a holding cell. He was G127 now... no longer a man... just property to be sold.
As it sat on the ground, G127 closed its eyes and wept. It had never wanted violence, but violence always followed it. It had never wanted pain, but it had constantly caused it. Now, it had to choose to move forward or give up.
It chose to move forward.
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