The door swung open behind Pretty Guard and hit him on the ass, shoving him forward and jutting his cock into my throat with a sharp shove, hitting canines and molars, scraping along their sharp edges as I gagged and he screamed.
“Oh, shit!” he shrieked and shifted to the side, his cock plopping free from between my lips as he shoved it back in with a panicked look at me.
I wiped my mouth and stood, disappointed to not have had my fun, but curious about who’d interrupted us. Pretty Guard was about to be in trouble if it wasn’t one of the usual twisted suspects.
It wasn’t on me. I was already in trouble. Locked away for my crimes. I tilted the top half of my body to the side to peer over Pretty Guard’s shoulder and met the eyes of a scowling sex bomb.
Jesus fucking christ, grouchy and broody at the door looked at me for a second before turning his angry gaze to my guard friend.
“Randal, what is going on in here?” newbie asked, and Randal, my ‘pretty guard’,winced, zipping himself up and spinning around, all flustered and red-necked. So this guard wasn’t one of the pricks who abused us.Another new one. Interesting.
“Sorry, Darling,” Randal responded, making my ears prick up. Darling? What was he doing calling this beast of a manDarling?
I must have been frowning pretty loud because newbie caught my eye and rolled his. “CO Darling.” He gestured to himself.
“It’s his second name,” Randal muttered, still all in a fluster about being discovered in the act. Maybe CO Darling was his superior… interesting. Maybe this grouchy fresh meat could get me what I wanted.
I studied him as he stepped into the room, all big and tall, maybe ten years my senior and seasoned at this job. I hadn’t seen him before, but that didn’t mean he was new here, just never in my wing. Cell Block A housed the worst of us.
“What was going on in here?” Darling asked, and I still struggled not to smirk at the stupid-ass name that definitely did not go with the man before me. Randal would have suited it more, all pretty boy and slight.
“I banged my head,” I blurted, gesturing around my skull. “CO Randal here was just helping me with some pain relief.”
“And he keeps that in his pants, does he?” Darling asked, an eyebrow raised. His gaze on me lingered a fraction too long, like he was trying to figure something out about me. Was I a victim, maybe? Or was I as complicit as Randal? “I wasn’t talking to you,” Darling said to me. “Stand against the wall and wait for your next order.”
I saluted him and shuffled back until I could rest beside a poster about STIs and how they can run rampant in prisons, even women’s ones, apparently. Though I’d place bets on it being the guards bringing them in.
I had to steady my breathing, a threat of panic at being alone in a room with two big men trying to untuck itself from my gut. The other posters in the roomdistracted me, one about UTIs, a self-check breast cancer one with illustrations…
“CO Randal, explain yourself.” Darling’s attention fell to my almost blowy friend, and I settled in for the show - this a good distraction, too. Anything to see a CO berated.
“She told you,” Randal spluttered, losing some of his cool. “There was a fight in the mess hall. I-I brought in here because she was complaining of head pain. Was going to get the doctor when you barged — when you came in.” He squared his shoulders and tried to front it. “I can just go and do that now. Unless you would?”
Darling muttered under his breath then gave Randal the most pointed, scary look I’d ever seen, rendering everyone in the proximity frozen, even me, who worked damn hard to not let men intimidate me. “You,” he said to Randal. “Wait for me in my office. And you.” That finger pointed at me. “Come with me.”
I did as I was told, of course I fucking did; he was scary, and I was his prisoner. Standing close to him made my skin prickle and sting, like I’d stepped on something sharp, sending daggers of pain skitteringalong my flesh. He was warm and smelled good, even in his stiff prison guard uniform. He wore it well. There was something different about him, intriguing. Disrupting. The glimmer of desire in my gut was wrong, incongruous.
“Do I need to cuff you or do you walk willingly?” he asked me as we stepped back into the main med bay.
“Why don’t we get going, and you can find out?” I teased, armor up.
Shouldn’t have. Because next I knew, he’d wrapped his handcuffs around my wrists behind my back, and he was forcing me to walk toward the doctors.
“Flirting won’t work on me,” he growled in my ear, and I tensed.
A rare occurrence here if he was telling the truth. The only good thing about having more male COs than seemed normal was they were easier to manipulate. That power dynamic we all played with, if he was above it… I catalogued him. Height. Weight. Threat. Desire tickled in the back of my mind, but it was easy to ignore. He wasn’t safe.
“Shame,” I murmured, unable to help pushing his buttons, even now.
“What is your name?” he asked, sounding so fed up with me. We’d arrived at the med bay desk, but the doctor was deep in conversation with a harried looking nurse, so we had to wait.
“Elizabeth Bathory,” I said.
He huffed, seeing right through me. “Tell me your actual fucking name, inmate.”
“Jolly Jane.”
He yanked the cuffs until I loosed a small cry of pain. “What. Is. Your Name.” He paused. “And no messing around.”
