I fucked up one time too many, and they threw the book at me. Four months in the slammer. I suppose you could say I had it coming.
The judge went on an on about some county work program. Rehabilitation through honest labor, or some damn thing. But when the paperwork came through, it had me going to Logan rather than Potter. Logan is the Women's Facility. The deputies at the jail couldn't get it straightened out, so they just took me to Logan and let them deal with it. The warden lady raised bloody hell, but she couldn't get it straightened out either. So finally she just admitted me. Not that I gave much of a shit one way or the other.
Some fat old bulldog of a matron checked me in. "Strip!" she growled. "All the way!" I doubt she even remembered what a dick was for. I thought she'd give me a jumpsuit or something, but instead she paraded me naked through the entrance area, right past the receptionist and the clerk. She left me in a waiting room for about an hour and a half. Then she paraded me back again, in case anybody wanted a second look.
She led me down several corridors toward a room full of voices. It was a changing room with benches in the middle and showers along one wall. There were about twenty chicks in there, each one as naked as the day she was born. I'd never seen so much skin in my life. Tits galore. Asses, snatches, all right there to see. When they caught a glimpse of me all hell broke loose. They started hooting and calling and pointing. A few backed away and tried to cover up, but most of them gawked and squealed like it was bachelorette night at the club.
Bulldog prodded me into the room. I was now pretty much surrounded by naked girls. But I was naked too, and there were twenty of them against only one of me. They weren't all good lookers, either. There were fatties with boobs halfway down to their waists, and one old bag with jugs like empty wineskins. And every single one of them was looking directly at me. Some with looks of dumb bewilderment, some with looks of raunchy glee, some with looks of feral wariness.
"Shower off," growled Bulldog. I wasn't quite sure how to play it. I knew I couldn't let them see that I was scared. I also didn't think that any kind of cocky bravado would go down too well. So I put on my best rebel-without-a-cause indifference and sauntered toward the showers, ignoring the ogles and taunts as if it were just the same old type of shit I had to put up with every day of my life. It wasn't any use trying to cover anything up, my nakedness went far deeper than that. The girls parted in front of me, leaving me a shower head all to myself.
Every eye was on me. I soaped up my chest and arms, then my dick and balls. Hoots and whistles. Then I turned around to rinse my back, bringing my front side back into general view. More hoots, more whistles.
The towels were on the other side of the room. The girls didn't part as readily this time. Some of them leaned out to brush against me, or stood their ground so that I had to maneuver around them. I tried not to pay anyone any attention. "Hey, handsome." "Ooh, I want you right now."
As I approached the towels, three girls snatched up the last of them from the pile. The leader was about twenty with jet black hair, a striking face, and tits like a movie star. She had dried off already, and she draped the fresh towel around her shoulders and arms like some kind of stole. She sashayed right up to me, brandishing her chest with each step. Her tits were spectacular. Her nipples were hard and full. Her pussy was clean shaven. She looked me up and down, lingering her gaze on my limp cock.
She looked me straight in the eye, but she spoke over her shoulder. "He's a faggot, I'd say. My boyfriend woulda fucked half the girls in here by now and still been as hard as a telephone pole." Then she addressed me directly. "Hey, lover boy. Know what this is?" She spread open her vagina, showing me her pink inner lips. She took the towel and wiped herself there. Then she dropped it at my feet.
My first impulse was to pick the towel up and use it, but something told me it wasn't a good idea to start my prison career smearing myself with another inmate's pussy juice.
"'Preciate it," I said. I stepped around her and went over to the laundry cart where the girls had been throwing their wet towels. I didn't look back, just took out a towel that wasn't too soggy and dried off the best I could. Not a sound in the house.
The other matron had droopy eyes more like a hound dog. She blew her whistle, and the girls dawdled up into two lines. Bulldog indicated with her baton a place in the middle where one girl didn't have a partner. She was about my age, and one of the better looking ones. "What the fuck is this?" she complained as I got in line beside her. She gave me a disgusted look, then turned her head away. "Do-LO-res!" called the other girls. "Oh, girl!" "Don't use him up." "Save a little for me!"
We marched out of the shower room, me and twenty naked girls. The one in front of me kept stopping short so I would bump into her. She had a skinny little ass, the kind you'd never get into bed with in the first place. The one behind me kept trying to grab me from behind. My partner just pretended I wasn't there.
We came into a hallway with doors along each side. There weren't any bars, just regular doors like in a dormitory, but each one had a little spy window. Each pair of girls stopped in front of one of the doors and stood in a poor imitation of attention. They were all still staring at me. Staring at my cock, to be precise. The pair right across from me were making kissy faces and giggling. This part of the building didn't seem to be heated, and it was pretty chilly. Most of the girls had their arms crossed over their chests, and I did the same thing.
Hound Dog passed up and down, making sure that everyone was accounted for. Then there was a loud buzz as the doors were unlocked. My cellmate made it clear that I should go in first. The cell had a toilet and sink on one wall and a bunk bed on the other, with a small barred window on the far wall. It was cold as hell. The doors buzzed again to lock us in.
My cellmate couldn't help but acknowledge me now. We were locked in together for the night. We were both naked. We didn't know each other from Adam and Eve. We stared at each other warily, like a couple of unacquainted alley cats. As far as I was concerned, we were both on the same side, us against the man. But I could see that she might not see it that way.
She spoke first. "Will you just get in the damn bed?"
Each bunk had a thin mattress with a kind of bolster attached for a pillow. There were two blankets on the bottom bunk, which I assumed was hers, but none on the top one, which I assumed would be mine.
"Where do I get blankets?" I asked.
"They only give us two blankets per cell," she replied, impatiently. "But one isn't warm enough, so we have to sleep together." She still had her arms crossed in front of her and her thighs pressed together against the cold. "You get in first. But if you try any funny business, I swear to God I'll rip your balls off with my bare teeth."
I got in the bottom bunk, under the coarse blankets. "Turn on your side," she said. I turned toward her. "The other way," she commanded. I turned toward the wall. Then she got in and pressed up against me, back to back and butt to butt. The bed was narrow, but laying like that there was just room to snug the blankets down around us. The cold mattress gave me goose bumps, and I started shivering. It was only after a couple of minutes that I started to warm up.
"So why'd they put you in with the girls?" she asked eventually in not-quite-so-cross a tone. "Are you really a fag?"
