The elder black judge thought the crime was motivated by racism and it did not go in my favor. Booker survived with no permanent damage even though the broken glass left some scars on his face. He surprised me in the court by apologizing to me during his testimony. I was not sure if it was because he saw the errors in his own doings or if he was hoping to reconcile with Amy.
After the incident, Amy practically insisted on going everything through in a detailed discussion and I finally mustered up the courage to tell everything to her. How things did not work out with Destiny and how Booker had told me that he and Destiny were not that steady couple at all. I even described to her all the confusing feelings I went through when I was watching Booker fucking her and having my dick stroked by Destiny.
Amy was incredibly understanding. She once more assured me that even though sex with Booker had been really good she did not want to change anything we have. And that our sex was equally amazing. Furthermore, she understood why I had felt betrayed by Booker's doings and confirmed that she would not be in contact with him in the future.
All this was a cold consort as I was heading to prison. Not for a very long time but it was still a terrible thing to go through. I was now convicted of a violent crime. I had to fix the time off from my work and tell my parents and friends I was going away to serve my sentence.
The prison bus was everything one could expect. Like a school bus but grey. I sat next to a crying young boy and even though all my senses were telling me not to interfere I tried to cheer him up but did it as manly as I could,
"Pull yourself together man. It can not be that bad. And crying won't help you now. When we arrive you have to get your shit together and man up."
He didn't stop but worse, started to pour out his story. He had forced himself sexually on a few years younger girl. Turned out the girl was one-month underage and this meant his reputation was ruined and his sentence was heavy. He was afraid, and rightly so, that he would be raped in prison.
The same thought had been going through my mind in the past weeks. Would the prison be like the HBO series Oz or was that all just TV show dramatization? I still tried to ask the young man to stop weeping and told him that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. There would be the guards keeping up the order.
I did think that if there ever was a "fresh fish" who would be raped then surely it was this young boy with sex offender status. A chilly voice joined the conversation from behind us,
"The guards won't give shit. Two fairies like u will both be suckin' cocks before the day's gone." a tatted bold motherfucker chuckled meanly.
I decided to ignore him but the young man cried out so badly that a big portion of the passengers noticed and laughed with the bold man. The guard inside the bus had to order them back to silence emphasizing his order by clanging the vertical steel handles of the bus with his baton.
The arrival at the prison was not that bad. We sat down in a classroom as some sort of officer of the guards was telling us some basic rules and what was our daily schedule and so on. But that changed when we were actually mixed up with the rest of the prisoners. The young boy from the bus was immediately picked up by some old timers but I and a few others got some unwanted attention and catcalling as well.
Besides the rude comments there was no real action from the prisoners but I had a bad feeling they were not making empty threats. There was real peril there and some of them just waited for the right opportunity. And then I met my call mate. A tall and broad black guy called Xavier. He was neither rude nor friendly and ignored me to some extent minding only a book he was reading.
In the evening we had some free time in the common area and that is when the real trouble started for me. There were three of them and at first, they just came to me and talked about this and that. Like what was I called and so on. Then one of them informed me that they had just been lifting some weights and were heading to the showers and they would show the showers to me also.
Telling them I didn't need a shower at the moment was met with a huge grin on the face of the guy doing most of the talking,
"We were not asking you, puta. You will come with us and if you won't cause a scene we will not hurt you that bad. But if you refuse we will find the time and place to gangrape you so bad that they will have to carry you to the med ward."
Despair took over me. There were only bad choices left for me. Suddenly they were not focusing on me anymore. Lifting their eyes over my shoulders their expressions changed. A big hand came to rest on my shoulder.
"You will leave this newcomer alone." a strong voice rescued me. As I had no friends there I was perplexed for a moment but there was my new cellmate standing behind me.
The three ganbangers stared at him angrily but then one of them stated that there was plenty of fresh fish and they should find someone else.
"A wise choice," Xavier added to me but loud enough for them to hear.
I started to thank him but he just grunted and left me alone again. But after that, I had no trouble with any of the other prisoners either. News travel fast and no matter what was the reason Xavier had taken me under his wing I appreciated it a lot.
As we retired to bed Xavier did show some interest in me. He wanted to know why I was there and as he had helped me earlier I decided to tell it all to him. Not with all the kinky details but I did tell him the background story of why I had assaulted Booker. He was amused by the story and cheered me up that my time would not be that long. With good behavior, I would be out soon.
The story clearly intrigued him. In his opinion, I did the right thing standing tall and hitting Booker with the mug. But on the other hand, I should have never taken the risk of letting "a brotha" fuck my girl. In his experience, now there would always be some small part of her that would be longing after some interracial love.
His words were tough but he presented them in a sympathetic manner so I silently agreed. That could very well be so.
"Do you have a picture of this girl of yours? he asked.
Prisoners were indeed allowed to have a few personal items and one of them was a picture of her. I was not that keen on showing it to him but saw no choice. He liked the picture a lot,
"Man, you are one lucky white boy. She's hot. You will have to write her and ask for some nudie pics for us."
With a nervous laugh, I tried to make it as jovial as possible and told him she would probably not appreciate it that much if I showed the pictures to him.
"I suppose so," he agreed but with a shrug laid out some prison rules for me, "You and I are going to be cellmates for quite some time. This will mean we will become close. I stood up for you today but I expect something in return. The nights in prison can be lonely and I expect you to be grateful for my protection. Sharing her pictures with me will be just one more minor detail we will not tell her."
I swallowed. Of course, it could not have been that easy. And what did he mean by being grateful? I had to ask in order to be sure.
"Oh, nothing much. I will not rape you or make you my public bitch which will happen to many other newcomers. Instead, if you expect to be left alone by the other prisoners you will take care of me at night time. And that includes everything I want. I will not make it too hard for you. Think of it as a sort of boyfriend-and-girlfriend arrangement.
And since I'm in a good mood let's agree that you can settle in first and we don't have to start today. On Friday you will have to make up your mind. When the lights go out you will come to my bunk and give me the best blowjob you can. And that will be a start for that day. We will see where it takes us."
I was staring at him and he was looking right back at me and added,
"But if you don't want to do it I understand. And it is perfectly fine by me. It's only that after that you will be on your own with the other prisoners."
There was more silence after which he slapped me on the shoulder like a big brother and told me to relax. I didn't have to make up my mind now. On Friday we would see how it goes.
The next day I was thinking about the thing a lot. Xavier had been more or less nice to me but still expecting me to suck his cock for the protection was unfair. Life sure gave me lemons in prison. To make my mood worse I ran into the young guy from the bus. He had been beaten up and was missing a tooth. He had makeup on him but it looked so hideous it was more to humiliate him than to make him pretty. He did not even look at me but followed submissively a group of white guys who could have very well been some neo-nazi Aryan brotherhood.
It seemed to me that my decision was not that hard after all and when Friday came I was more or less prepping myself for it mentally. It would not be that big of a deal. Maybe I could think of it as a massage or something. And many prostitutes sucked cock for a living - how bad could it be?