Prisoner 666

Willow was a young, naïve, innocent girl who had just been out of high school for a year when the unexpected happened to her, something that changed her happy-go-lucky life into a living hell.

From the time she became aware of her sexuality and was trying to come to some conclusions about herself and her sexual orientation, she lived an uncertain life. She knew sexual attraction was supposed to be a boy-girl thing and was considered normal; however, it was not this way for Willow. She was drawn to girls. This made her uncomfortable being around girls because of the urges she felt inside, even to the point of becoming sexually aroused with thoughts of being with a girl naked and enjoying one another's bodies. Her parents often asked her why she didn't date as the other girls did. So, under such pressure Willow decided to try to be attracted to boys.

Willow was a beautiful will-of-the-wisp girl with orange-red hair, green eyes, and fair complexion with some freckles on her face and arms. Her body was slim but well defined with small, pert breasts, narrow waist, and small but rounded hips that flowed into sculptured long, shapely legs. Willow easily had the interest of boys and was asked out on many dates both in high school and where she worked.

Willow, however, politely rejected any and all suitors with a polite

no thank you

, but in time because of parental and peer pressure, she decided to date boys just to get them from asking her why she didn't date, and some of her girlfriends even tried to fix her up with dates except for those friends with whom she had close, intimate relationships. Therefore, when one of her fellow workers at

Bloomingdale's Department

store at

Thousand Oaks, Los Angeles

, asked her out to dinner and a movie, Willow reluctantly said

yes

despite her misgivings and deep seated lack of real interest.

Dale was a tall, good-looking young man who had a good sense of humor and was always polite towards others. At six feet two inches tall, Dale stood just about a head over Willow's five feet three inches. Dale weighed one hundred eighty-five pounds to Willow's one hundred fifteen pounds, so physically they weren't a match, but then, most men were much taller and heavier than Willow.

Like the tree after which Willow was named she was slender, graceful, and lithe, having the fragility of a willow tree's slender limbs and small leaves that easily flutter in the wind. She had a personality to match. She was an introvert who much of the time was withdrawn and quiet, but in public or on the job Willow was attentive and friendly. Everyone who knew her liked her.

The date went smoothly, and Willow finally relaxed as the evening progressed. However, that was to change drastically. Dale was driving Willow home when he was pulled over by the police. Dale looked into his rearview mirror and saw the officer walking towards the car with a flashlight in his hand. Dale had no idea why he had been pulled over.

The officer motioned to Dale to roll down his window, and then he pointed a beam of light onto Dale and then moved it around the inside of the car, shining the light on Willow, too.

"Is there anything wrong, officer? I don't think I was speeding," Dale asked as he tried to keep his voice under control.

The officer replied, "Do you know you have a tail light out?"

Dale sighed with relief and answered, "No, no I didn't, but I'll get it fixed."

Dale thought things were over and the officer would let them go on their way. However,

he asked for Dale's driver's license and car registration.

Now Dale was nervous as he took out his wallet and showed the officer his driver's license. The officer shined his flashlight on the license, looked at the photo ID, and then at Dale. Satisfied, the officer handed Dale his wallet back, but then he said, "Let me see your registration permit."

This was a usual, standard procedure since there were so many cars stolen in LA.

Dale reached over Willow's lap, who by now was trembling, and opened the glove compartment, and while he was rifling around at the bottom for the registration permit, a very small, brown bag fell onto the floor of the car by Willow's feet.

From experience the officer had a good idea what was in the small packet.

Now, things were going to change drastically, something that would change their lives forever. The police officer said to Dale, "Hand me the little bag and step out of the car and go around to the front. You, too, Miss."

Willow had no idea what was going on. However, even though she was shaking inside and feeling light-headed, she did as the officer told her.

As Dale and Willow walked to the front of his car to stand with their hands on the hood, the police officer reached into the car and picked up the small, folded, brown bag that had fallen out of the glove compartment. Looking at it, he was fairly certain he knew what it was. He opened the bag, lifted a small amount of white powder on the underside of his little fingernail, and stuck it into the bag. He brought the powder to his mouth and tasted it. It had a familiar taste, and knew it was heroin.

The officer took the one bag and four more bindles of heroin he found in the glove compartment and walked towards Dale and Willow who were still standing at the front of his car.

"You two are under arrest for drug possession," he told Dale and Willow.

He took them by their arms, led them to the rear door on the driver's side, and put them into the back seat, putting his hand on the top of their heads so they wouldn't bump them against the top of the door opening.

Willow was shaking all over and felt weak in her knees. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think something like this would happen to her. She had never done a bad thing in her life, and she was innocent then.

After closing the back door, the police officer got behind the wheel and called dispatch, telling his location and that he was coming in with two drug offenders.

"Drug offenders?" thought Willow, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I've never used drugs in my life, not even smoking marijuana. "

She turned to Dale and asked bitingly, "How could you do this to me?"

Dale said, "I'm sorry, Willow. I forgot I had the drugs in my glove compartment."

"You're sorry? What good is sorry now?" Willow said bitterly.

Thus, Dale and Willow were brought up on charges of drug possession, were taken to trial, and given the minimum sentence of five years in prison for the possession and dealing of heroin on the street. Willow's defense lawyer argued that she was innocent and didn't know the drugs were in Dale's car. However, drug laws are strict in

California

and sentencing is just about mandatory. Therefore, Willow was sent to the

California Institution for Woman, Corona

, in

San Bernardino County

to serve out her sentence.

Willow was numb as she sat silently in the bus that was taking her to prison. Despite the fact there were other women on the bus, Willow sat alone and quiet. The repeaters, however, talked with one another and often joked among themselves. Willow didn't know how long it took to get from

LA

to the prison in

San Bernardino

, but she came out of her stupor when she heard the squealing of brakes as the bus came to a stop in front of the correctional facility for women, a collection of non-descript buildings that all looked alike and that were surrounded by twelve-foot high fences with rolled razor- barbed wire on top. In advantageous positions there were guard towers that allowed a constant visual on the inmates by female guards.

Many think women prisoners aren't as bad as male prisoners, but, truth be told, there are many female inmates who are hardened bitches who are in prison for gang related crimes, major theft that is a felony, spousal abuse, and murder...some even serial killers.

The prisoners were greeted by a large, black, female guard who was holding a black baton and tapping the tip into the palm of her of her left hand.

"All right, step out of the bus and get into a single line. And no talking," the guard said with authority.

The prisoners did as told, and since Willow had been sitting in the back of the prison bus she was the last to get off.

The guard looked at Willow and said, "My goodness, child, what are you doing here? The inmates are going to eat you alive before the day's over."

Willow looked up at the big guard, and the guard saw the fear in her eyes and her body shaking. Seeing her, the guard, not knowing what crime brought her to prison, actually felt sorry for Willow, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"All right, follow me, and again no talking," she barked out her order.

The female population crowded at the fences that separated them from the entrance to the prison to see the fresh meat that was coming in that day.

As the new prisoners walked by in single file, the inmates whistled, hooted, and shouted out obscenities, picking out the 'newbies' that caught their attention. When Willow, small of frame and looking so young, walked by, there was whistling and oooooing from the entire group of inmates.

"Ooowee," cried out one of the inmates, "look at that little piece of meat. She is absolutely delicious, and I bet ten cigarettes she's a virgin."

"If so, I bet she won't be for long," shouted out another inmate. "You can be sure of that."

"She'll not last the night!" cried out someone at the front who had a good look at her.

"Oh, yeah, you can bet on that," came the last verbal shout of excitement at the prospect of getting their hands and mouths on Willow as the entrance door closed behind her.

The new inmates went through the standard drill. They removed their clothes and any personal items. This left them naked, and Willow was embarrassed because even though she was pretty and had a good but diminutive body, she was aware of her body that made her look younger than she was. Once stripped down to their skin, they showered and got into orange prison outfits that zipped down the front, socks, and walking shoes. They each were given sheets, a blanket, and toiletries.

Once finished with their induction, they were lined up and told into what cell they would be assigned, and they were told they should always address the guards with "Mam."

Going down the line of inmates, the Head Guard gave each inmate her identification number and the number of her cell. When she stood in front of Willow, she looked down and felt some empathy for her because she knew life in prison was going to be pure hell for her.

"Willow Conroy, your prisoner number 0777, and you are assigned to cell 000666 that is on the first level," said the guard.

Willow didn't know there was a pecking order within the prison by race—Caucasians, African Americans, Latinos, Native Americans, and Orientals--as well as by reputation for crimes committed and time spent. There were also those prisoners who were the worst bitches in the joint whom the other inmates acknowledged because of their strength and leadership. Inside, it was survival of the fittest, and Willow was going to be very low on this pecking order.

Willow also didn't know there were some inmates who enjoyed certain privileges, having made a symbiotic relationship with the guards. They were strong leaders who helped keep the inmate population in line. These were certain inmates one didn't want to offend or get on their bad side. On the other hand, to be in their inner circle made life easier for them.

Little did Willow know she was assigned to the cell with Prisoner 666, one of the toughest, if not the toughest, inmate in the prison who had, when she first saw Willow walking from the bus to the entrance to the prison, let it be known to the inmates and guards she wanted her as her cell mate.

"All right, follow me, and I'll take you to your new homes," the guard said.

When the guard arrived at cell 000666, she turned to Willow and said, "This is it, Prisoner 777, and the inmate you see in there sitting on her bunk is your cellmate, Prisoner 666."

Willow said nothing but stood motionless.

"Come on in, cellmate. We'll be getting to know one another very well," said Prisoner 666.

The guard gave Willow a little shove with her baton in the middle of her back that made Willow step inside the cell.

Willow still didn't move. She didn't speak. She just stood still, feeling scared and misplaced, knowing she was innocent of the drug charges that were Dale's. Although, she'd find out each inmate said she was innocent.

Willow's cellmate stood up and leaned on the edge of the top of the opposite bunk across from hers. Even though each cell had two bunk beds in them that accommodated four inmates, Willow's cellmate was one of those prisoners who had special privileges, and having just one cellmate was one of them, giving them more room. Therefore, each had a bunk bed, the bottom to sleep on and the top for whatever.

"Well, gorgeous, my name is Frederica, but everyone calls me Fred," she grinned. "Named after my dad who was

Sicilian

. He deserted Mom and me when I was very young, so I don't know much about him. And what's your name, little one?"

Willow was stunned at the height and size of Frederica who must have been about six feet tall, 185 pounds, and very well developed, showing a big chest, and large biceps and forearms. Willow could only imagine how muscular the rest of Frederica was underneath her orange, one- piece prison outfit.

"Fred's big muscles are probably due to her working out in the yard with the weights," Willow thought.

She had seen enough television programs like

HBO's OZ

to have some idea of prison life.

Willow finally became aware that when Frederica asked what her name was all she did was look at her, but knowing she had to answer, she said with a quiver in her voice, "My name is Willow."

"Hmmmmm. Willow. The name fits you. You

are

small and fragile looking,' even more now that I see ya up close," Fred said.

Fred wore her

Sicilian

black hair quite short and naturally, disheveled, looking very much like the pop singer Rod Stewart's hair. Her thick, black eyebrows and eyelashes were equally as dark as her hair.

In a very rugged way, Fred was pretty. She had a long face with a narrow, slightly aquiline nose. It was her mouth, however, that was her prominent feature. Her lips were full and had a sexy puffiness about them.

Her chin was strong and firm.

Prison garb was not very flattering; however, Willow couldn't help noticing Fred's large breasts that pushed out against the material. Her waist was narrow and Willow expected Fred to have a six-pack of firm, strong muscles in her abdomen. Her hips matched her breasts in size, being round and firm looking.

While Fred was talking, Willow's eyes were riveted on Fred's breasts. She was fascinated with their size and how they rose and fell as she breathed. Fred, of course, noticed this since Willow wasn't saying too much.

"Hey, Willow, you like my breasts? Do you?" asked Fred.

Willow's face flushed when she knew Fred had found her ogling her breasts, and, therefore, any words she would say stayed inside her mind.

Fred laughed and said, "Not to worry, Willow. Tonight after 'lights out' you'll get to see my breasts and even feel them. In fact, this being your initiation night in the slammer, I'm going to give you the full tour. Would you like that?"

Willow heard what Fred had just said to her, but in her state of mind she didn't understand exactly what she meant.

However, to change the subject, Willow innocently asked Fred, "Why are you in prison, Fred?"

Looking Willow straight in the eyes, she said in a rougher voice than before,

"I caught my husband in bed with another woman, and in anger I shot them both with a handgun kept in the dresser."

"How terrible," Willow said.

"Terrible for who?" snarled Fred. "Me or my husband and the tramp he was fucking?"

Willow blushed again when Fred said the word "fucking" because she hadn't been around people who used such language, and although she knew the word, she didn't use it.

Fred saw Willow's discomfort and said, "Ah, you don't have to answer. I did it and that's why I'm in here."

"How long will you have to be in prison?" asked Willow.

"I'm a lifer with a possible parole in twenty-five years," Fred answered.

"Oh, my, that's a long time," said Willow.

"That's life, kid. So, tell me, what's an innocent girl like you in for?" asked Fred.

Willow told Fred about being arrested and sentenced to five years for drug possession even though she had no idea the boy with whom she was on a date was into heroin. She was with the wrong person at the wrong place and wrong time.

"Why then were you arrested and found guilty?" asked Fred.

"I was charged being an accomplice, and the judge didn't believe my innocence," answered Willow.

"Gee, that's tough, kid. The law can sometimes get things fucked up," Fred said.

The rest of the evening went as smoothly as it could for Willow. When Fred and Willow were in the chow line in the big dining hall filled with inmates, Willow felt as if everyone's were looking at her. She also saw that the population divided itself into ethnic groups: whites with whites; skinheads with skinheads; rednecks; blacks with blacks; Latinos with Latinos; Orientals with Orientals; gang members with gang members.

Fred, however, had a special table reserved for her and her group that consisted of women of all ethnic groups. Fred's group was independent and strong, and no one messed with them, not if they knew what was good for them. Fred and her girls were the ones in control, and each inmate knew not to overstep her bounds.

When supper and free time was over, all inmates went to lockup for the night. It was lights out by nine o'clock.

Fred and Willow entered their cell, and when each guard called out, "All present and accounted for," the cell doors closed, and for the first time Willow heard the sound of cold steel against cold steel. It was then reality hit her. This would be the same for five years of her life, and with that realization hitting deeply inside her, tears welled up in her eyes and she audibly cried.

Fred walked over to Willow and put her strong arm around her.

"The first night is especially rough, Willow, but believe it or not, everything we do becomes a familiar routine in time," Fred tried to assure her.

Fred took Willow by her arm and led her to her bottom bunk.

"Sit here, and I'll show you what you had been starring at when you first came into the cell," Fred said.

Willow sat down on her bed and looked up at Fred, having forgotten what she had done and what Fred had told her she would do for her once alone in their cell after lights out.

Fred unzipped her prison suit and pulled down the shoulders until her arms were free. She then took hold of it at the waist and slid the suit off her body. This left her in only her bra, prison-issued under shorts, and white walking shoes and socks.

Fred kicked her shoes off and then reached behind her back to undo her bra and let it drop into her hands. She put it on her upper bunk and was then standing nude before Willow except for her shorts.

"There. Now you can see my breasts, Willow," said Fred.

Willow looked up at Fred who had cupped her large, 40 DD, breasts in her hands.

While they were big, round, and firm Fred's breasts did not sag. Due to her weight lifting Fred's pectoral muscles held them up on her chest.

Fred slid her hands forward to her nipples that were large and erect, and each was on a large, crimson areola. Being

Sicilian

Fred had swarthy skin that made her look as if she had a permanent, light tan.

"Well, Willow, how do you like my breasts now that you can see them in the flesh?