I was sitting in my usual spot, at the end of the cell block. No chair, but rather, had propped my feet up on the grimy, white bars of the jail, and was sitting on hard cement. A hard cover book, about "The Universe", provided a clipboard of such, and lay against my knees. I was writing, about the events of the day, as I had, since I first ended up here. I'm in jail.
I'm not that bad. Not everyone that gets incarcerated, is deserving of such a fate. There are times when, life throws you a sucker-punch, and you find yourself in a place you would never thought you'd end up. Such is my fate, I'm stuck behind bars for crimes I didn't commit. Blame it on the Police; they fabricated a report where I supposedly attacked them, and tried to get away. So, in retrospect, it doesn't really matter if I'm guilty of the accusations - there are written reports claiming I did.
I've been here for over a month. I've grown accustomed to the aspect of jail life; finally got used to the food, the noise, the hard beds, and the other inmates. My daily routine, keeps me busy, and preoccupied. Some days are better than others, but what do you really expect?
All I know, is that things are definitely getting better since, I met her.
I can't tell you who it is, because, if I were to do so, she would lose her job. She is a guard; one of the hired muscle, who is entrusted to my care, and holds the keys to my cell.
I love everything about her! The way she bounces in each day, happy, and friendly. The way she can deal with rowdy inmates. The way she sneaks me coffee. Her vibrant red hair, and sparkling eyes, fire me up, and make me feel weak, all at the same time.
I was having another "Ground Hog Day"; the movie where Bill Murray keeps waking up, and it's the same thing everyday, just what you do changes things a bit, and I just happened to peer up from my writing, when I seen her happily bounce into the cell range. In truth, it was more like I had sensed her; her warm smile cutting through the fog of depression. I smiled, but tried to play it cool. "Don't seem desperate", I reminded myself; in truth, it was over a month since I had been with a woman, and I jokingly admitted to myself, that I hoped I remembered how.
I sat there, trying to pretend I didn't notice her walk in, randomly scribbling on a sheet of paper. Scribble, scribble. Damn! She was taking her time, stopping to talk to other inmates. I grew a bit impatient, but stayed seated. Deliberately, I reread what I had written.....
Back from court. Turns out I'm here for another week. My friend showed up today, but the crown attorney didn't. Told you so; my undecided fate is prone to the whimsy fickle justice system, that is Fort Frances. I hate to say it, but my resignation of jail, is wearing on me to a point of comfort. I can easily see how some people become accustomed to a life of incarceration.
Please don't get me wrong, I need to get the hell out of here! I'm seriously jonsing for the touch of a woman, and the feel of a keyboard! A decent meal, and a cold beer would also do nicely!
I guess what I'm saying is, there is no real point in having an emotional attachment to the concept of freedom - even if freed on bail, with assurity, I will be captive to circumstances. I will be monitored, and under conditions; freedom is a n illusion. I'm not going "home", and can never do so again.
My entire life has changed, and nothing will ever be the same again! This is my truth; I may as well enjoy what has been given me. To do otherwise, it would appear, is an exercise in futility........
.........scribble, scribble. She seemed to be taking forever! Then, suddenly, she walked briskly by, barely looking, to even acknowledge me!
Why?! What did I do? I pretend I didn't care. "She's probably busy", I told myself.
I tried to write more, but couldn't. I sighed, "Fuck I hate jail"!
I sat there. Unable to write. Unable to watch the garbage on TV. I sat. Waited. I knew she would come back, she had to.
The door clicked shut behind her. "Locked in", she chuckled to herself. Pausing to admire herself in the mirror, she instinctively swatted the blonde swath of hair, that always seemed to fall in front of her right eye. She critically checked out her curvaceous body, "Not bad for a mom of two", she reminded herself.
Turning away from the mirror, she glanced around the room, and quickly eyed the log book. As she signed in, she chuckled, "Tonight's going to be fun!" She signed, Traci Higgins, then dotted her "i" with a heart.
Traci scanned the monitors that dominated the West wall. She pulled the plush leather chair over to the bank of small digital flat-screen TVs, and raised an eyebrow as she reflected, "Best digital technology, that money can buy".
Traci glanced over at the calendar on the wall. It was July 23rd, 2012. "Good", she sighed in delight. Tonight was the right night. She reached down into her purse, and pulled out a small pink USB stick, and popped it into the mainframe computer that monitors the camera system for the entire facility. Traci pulled out a small vial of expensive perfume and dabbed herself with the exotic scent. "Mmmm.....God, I love that smell", Traci chuckled as she turned back to the bank of monitors, "Makes me horny".
She quickly found what she was looking for. "I wonder if she's told him yet", she mused.
She bounced along the cell blocks, saying hello to each and every inmate. She knew everyone by name, personalities, and even some deep secrets that she kept her herself; Jail Guard to inmate, is a delicate matter, and she took such bonding seriously. It never dawned on her to reveal the private matters told in bored secrecy by those she housed in the 105 year-old District Jail. It was because of that trust, that she never had a problem with anyone that frequented her beat. She glanced down at her name tag, and neatly adjusted it, while rolling her eyes at the lettering, and sighed aloud, "Ex! Mandy Adams. Can't wait to get that changed back to my maiden name!" She reminded herself to talk to the Sergeant on duty, then sharply realized that there wasn't one on duty tonight.
Stopping to glance at the calendar, she checked. "July 23rd. Duty sergeant to be filled by active guard duty." That meant, they would be short staffed again.
Smiling, she finished her rounds. "That's right, too", she reminded herself. "It's tonight".
Traci subconsciously pushed the lock of hair out of eyes. Her personal laptop was quietly tinkling the newest song by Adele, while she browsed the internet. She clicked "Home", and waited for the page to load.
She whistled as she seen the number of "views", "two million views!"
"She chuckled to herself, "They really liked that last video. "
Traci glanced over at the monitors, and watched as Mandy walked by the final post. Looking at the time on the bottom, she sighed, "Another hour before showtime."
Mandy thumbed the combination on her locker, and opened it. She took one last look around the change-room, reached down to the bottom, and pulled a small bag out. Quickly, she unbuttoned her shirt, and took off her bra. She opened the small bag, and took out a skimpy lingerie top, designed to resemble a Jail Guard uniform. She giggled to herself, as she pull the real one over top, and buttoned her shirt back up.
Pausing to check her makeup in the mirror, she blew a kiss at herself. "Tonight's going to be a good one", she winked at her reflection.
Mandy could stop smiling, as she sat down at her post with a steaming cup of coffee. She glanced at her Mickey Mouse wristwatch, "Another hour", she mused devilishly.
I looked up at the TV, as my cellmate changed the channel, "There's nothing on, again", he declared. Annoyed, he switched to the TV listings, Channel Two. I looked at the time.
"Only 6:42?", I sighed. "I was hoping it was later".
"Yea, I know how you feel", agreed my cellmate. "I just want to get this day over with.
"Another Fourth-five minutes until visitation."
"No one ever comes, you know that", snapped my cellmate. He irritatedly started flicking through the TV channels. He stopped on a commercial, "Oh, I like this one", he stated.
"You never know, someone may come to visit", I shrugged.
He snorted, in disbelief, and rolled his eyes. Turning back to the TV, he explained, "No one comes for me. Just another day. It's better that way."
I glanced down at my notebook, unsure of what to say; to provide a comforting reassurance, or to allow him to stay upset. Some guys are like that, merely wanting to stay angry all the time. "Did you see this picture I drew", I asked, changing the subject.
"Yea, I was watching you draw it. It's pretty good." He turned back to the TV.
"Thanks". I flipped the sheet of paper over, and scanned my journal entry again. "Remanded again, with no date for release yet", I sighed deeply. I began to doodle at the bottom of the sheet of paper. He's right, I thought to myself, no one does come to visit.
Traci gently rocked back and forth, in the plush leather office chair. Her eyes were closed, and she was quietly humming along with the music on the laptop. The office lights were turned off, and the flickering lights in the room came from the monitors and various electronics.
Her cell phone buzzed like an angry fly, sitting on the office desk. "ZzzzzZZZzzz", it buzzed a second time. Traci opened her eyes, and quickly picked up the small pad. She slid her finger along the screen to answer the call, "Hello"?
"Hay Traci. It's me. So what did you want to do tonight? Do we have a script or just theme improv?"
"Oh, hay. Was wondering when you were going to call. Did you say hi to your boyfriend?", Traci teased.
"No. I seen him watching as I came in, and just walked right by him", Mandy laughed.
"Is that the one you want then?", Traci asked, flipping the swatch of hair out of her eyes again. "I'm all set up here"
"Is this going to be live, this time?", Mandy asked.
Mandy's heart fluttered a bit. She sighed nervously, and shifted in her chair. "What are we doing then?"
"I have the basement rigged up with three live feeds. We can make an edited version later.", Traci explained.
"Well, that works in with my costume of a naughty jail guard then", giggled Mandy. "I could escort a prisoner, and have him get loose."
"Nah, we did that last month".
"What if YOU jumped him. That's something we haven't done yet", Traci suggested.
"K. I can do that", Mandy giggled again. "Raawr", she playfully clawed the air, cat-like.
"You get him, tigress", chuckled Traci. "Whenever you're ready".
"Carlson. You have a visitor"
I looked up at the older male guard, seated at his post in the corner. He put down his paper, and stood up, jingling his keys in his pocket. He pulled out the set of large keys, and found the right one.
"Any idea who it is?", I asked, walking over to the door to the cell block.
"Put your shoes on, and no, I don't know who it is", he grumbled. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned the massive bolt with a solid thud.
"Male or female?", I inquired, pulling on my jail issued shoes.
"I said, I don't know", he replied, irritated.
We walked down the cell range, passing other inmates. Some were playing cards, some were watching TV, and some were just standing around talking. Most didn't look up as I walked past. We stopped in front of a large metal door.
"I got it", I said, as I reached out and pushed the little button. The electronic lock on the door snicked open. I pulled the heavy door open, and walked through, holding it open for the guard.
Mandy came bouncing up, "I can take him". The older guard grunted, and turned back to the cell range, pulling the door closed him.
"Hi, Mandy", I smiled. "How are you tonight?"
"I'm doing very well, thank you", she turned towards the desk, sat down, and made a notation in the log book. I glanced over her shoulder, and seen what she had penned; "Carlson - Visit 7:32 pm."
"Do you know who it is", I asked. I turned towards the visitation room.
"No, I don't"
I waited until she stood up, and started for the door that lead to the visiting area.
"Wait", Mandy said. "Downstairs".
I was suddenly confused, "What? Downstairs? I have a visit there?". I opened the metal door that lead to the basement. I looked at the long set of stairs, then turned back towards Mandy.
Mandy shifted, and placed her hands on her hips. "I'll explain in a second. Just go".
"Ok, ok. You don't need to be bossy", I teased. "Just ask me nicely". I turned back and smiled at her, and gave her a little wink.
"Oh, I am going to ask you nicely", Mandy giggled.
We reached the bottom of the stairs. I looked around at the laundry room, and seen it was empty. "Umm, there's no one here", I stated.
"I thought you might like a chance to shave", Mandy nodded towards the shower. She pulled a plastic razor out of her shirt pocket.
I ran my hand over the stubble on my head. "Yea, I could use a good shave. So there's no visit then", I asked.
"Oh, you might have one later, but I think the messages just got mixed", Mandy explained. "I had told them on the radio, that I was able to do showers right now".
"Oh". I headed towards the small plastic shower, and pulled the divider shut on the change room. I looked over the half wall, and watched as Mandy sat down on a bench. "You sure you don't want to join me?", I flirted. "You can help me wash my back".
Mandy smiled, and chirped, "No, that's ok. The Department of Corrections has a problem with that kind of thing". She leaned forward, her eyes twinkling, "I could lose my job".
Traci watched on the monitors as Mandy and the inmate entered the laundry room in the basement. She watched as he stripped down, and entered the shower.
She picked up her phone, and texted Mandy, "nice tats, give him physical and let me know"
Mandy's phone chirped. She glanced at the text message. "Hes shaving atm", she typed.
From the shower, an accapella voice rang out, "There's no guarantee, that we'll see......tomorrow....."
Mandy tapped on her phone screen again, "he can sing lol".
"Heaven only knows, how long we have.......", echoed from the shower.
Traci watched as the numbers of online viewers climbed. "Almost showtime", she thought to herself. "Almost a million live viewers", she read.
"Whoa", she muttered aloud. "Hope Mandy is up to the performance".
Nervously, she glanced at the other monitors, and checked to see where the rest of the staff were. "Good, everyone is where they are supposed to be", she muttered. She crossed her arms, impatiently, and began to rock back and forth quickly in her chair.
"You almost done?"
I turned to see Mandy leaning over the divider of the change room. She was staring at my wet naked body. "Whoa! Like what you see?", I chirped, suddenly realizing I was being stared at. "Change your mind about washing my back?", I teased.
Mandy deliberately let her eyes drift to my groin, then slowly inspected every inch of my body. "Turn around slowly", she softly cooed.
For a brief second, I felt a bit uncomfortable, but my inhibitions quickly fled. I flashed a naughty, knowing smile at the beautiful woman staring at me, and lifted my arms up in surrender, and slowly turned in the shower, exposing my entire body.
"Very nice", Mandy clucked. "I like your tattoos".
"So, you just wanted a private show?", I asked playfully. "You do this with all the inmates?"
"No, just certain ones". Mandy turned away, and walked back to the bench. She tapped on her phone, "wow hot. good to go. I'll ask him"
Traci's phone buzzed. Like a praying mantis, she snatched up her phone, and read the text. She quickly typed, "Let me know".
Traci waited. She did a quick scan of the monitors, and sighed nervously. "If this goes well, we won't have to work again".
I chuckled as I stepped out of the shower; "Well, that was fun", I thought to myself. "Too bad I don't get to see HER naked!"
Grabbing the white jail issue towel, I began to dry myself. I looked up a couple of times, to see what Mandy was doing; just sitting on the bench, typing on her smart phone. She looked up at me and smiled, in an odd way. I felt weak.
"So", Mandy stood up, "I have something I want to ask you."
My heart fluttered, "Whoa, maybe she DID like seeing me in the shower.", I thought.
She walked slowly towards me. I pulled on my blue boxer shorts, as she leaned on the divider. "You want another strip show?", I asked.
"Umm....", Mandy paused. She looked at me, like she was deep in thought. I reached for my bright orange jumpsuit. "I have a proposition for you", she asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Okay. Like what?" I tied the arms of my jumpsuit around my waist, and reached for my undershirt. I stopped and gave her a playful, yet serious look.
Mandy smiled, and said, "I'm a little nervous, but I have something I really want to ask you. You can say no, if you want to." She looked down at the floor. She looked so beautiful, being shy, as I have never seen her that way before; I had to walk over to her. I leaned up against the half wall.
"I've never seen you act shy before", I teased. "Normally, you know how to handle a rowdy inmate". I smiled at her, and winked.
She stood up straight, "Would you like to make a porno?", she blurted.
"Haha", I laughed. My mind swam. "You mean after I get out of here", I waved my hand, indicating, the jail. I was certain she was joking.
"What?" I recoiled. "What are you talking about?" I looked at Mandy. She stood there with her arms crossed.
She raised one eyebrow, and gave a little sigh, "Well", she started, "Come sit down for a minute". She motioned towards the bench, and walked over to the counter and picked up a few sheets of paper. "Here, read this", she said, handing me the two page document.
"A contract?", I blurted in disbelief. I glanced down at the legal form. "Naughty Jail guards dot com?", I couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Yea, a contract. It's pretty simple, you agree to waive any rights to the proceeds, now and in the future".
"Proceeds?!?", I started to read.
"Well, you and I are being videotaped, and miked right now, and as long as we stay in this part of the basement, everything we do will be recorded", Mandy stated.
"Huh!" I sat there, dumbfounded. I'll admit, that I went a little numb, as my mind swam. "Wow, what should I do?", I thought. I looked up at her and smiled, "This is like, a once in a lifetime chance, isn't it?", I asked gently.
Mandy chuckled, "Yea. I bet this doesn't happen very often, does it?" She slid a little closer on the bench. Suddenly, her phone chirped. Mandy giggled, as she read aloud, "Has he said yes yet? Ride that stud so hard he cant walk back to his cell!!!!!" She started typing, then looked at me, "Yes?"
"Yea. I'm in", I couldn't help but smile.
Her eyes twinkled with delight, as she quickly finished her text message. "Ok, so let me tell you what's going to happen", she announced, standing up and walking into the middle of the room. "You and I are going to improv a bit. Can you act?" She suddenly seemed like the Mandy I grew to love; hands on her hips, and in charge.
`Yes, I can do improv. I`m also not so bad in the romance department, either", I stated, trying to do my best to remain calm while my heart raced. I was suddenly nervous, and yet, adrenaline poured through my veins. My body was tingling from the tension. I flipped to the second page, and quickly scanned the rest of the contract. "Do you have a pen?", I asked.
Mandy walked swiftly towards me, reaching into her breast pocket and pulled out a plain silver pen. She handed it over, with the most odd expression; was it appreciation? Admiration? Almost thankfulness?
I couldn't imagine such a concept! What would this woman, who is obviously intelligent, see in a guy like me? I began to think really hard as to the many reasons why, when I heard Mandy ask, "So? Are you going to sign that, so we can stay on schedule?"
It then occurred to me, "What does it matter! I'll give them a performance, they haven't seen before!", I chuckled to myself. The pen flew swiftly across the paper.
"There. Signed, and dated. I do have one request though, before I fully agree to this."
"Request? Like what?"
"One off-camera, passionate kiss."
Mandy smiled, and took her hands off her hips. "Ok", she said seductively. She walked towards me, and stopped a couple of feet away. "So?" She cocked her head slightly, inviting.
I smiled. Like a magnificent stag, strutting to his mate, I instantly held her. She dipped in my arms. As our lips met, the warmth was electrifying! I pulled her upright, our tongues dancing.
It lasted but a moment, but the deed was done. I had her keys.
(TO BE CONTINUED*)
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