Page 12 of Auctioned to the Prisoners

While we eat, I try to plan what should happen next. I have Lory, Hyde, and Rock to balance out. What might be good for Lory won’t necessarily work for Rock and Hyde. Hyde, in particular, is impatient. He’s jittery as fuck, and his eyes are still a murky green, not quite turned but not where I’d like them to be.

Lory needs a calm, steady hand. She needs someone to help her relax into her role here. If she does, she’s going to spend a month in a state of pleasure. All I want it to hear is her cries of ecstasy as I fuck my way inside her. I want to feel her come undone on my cock and milk it of all the long years of restrictedpleasure. I want to bury myself so deep and stay there, keeping us linked while we sleep so she forgets what her pussy feels like without my thick cock stretching it open. My balls tighten painfully at the thought. But how do we get to that place without freaking her out?

If slow was an option, I’d take it. I could wait for a little while so that the rest of the month was perfect. But Hyde isn’t capable of waiting. Even Rock seems wound tight; his usually relaxed, bulky frame is upright as he eats and watches Lory like a fish about to escape his net.

Jesus. I know Warden’s heart was in the right place, but not for the first time. I wish he could have stumped up the cash for three women. It would have been easier not to have to share, but maybe there’s a method to his madness. He trusts us with Lory because the three of us work together to keep our inner beasts contained. Alone, the beasts could emerge. I wouldn’t have been able to relax, knowing Hyde was alone with a woman, and me and Rock were distracted. We need to be on hand to keep Lory safe until she learns to take him.

When Lory excuses herself to use the bathroom, I make the most of the time.

“I’m going to handle her,” I say. “I’ll ease her in. Get her ready for you.”

Hyde wants to disagree, but Rock quickly jumps in.

“That’s good. She needs it.”

“The room she’s put her stuff in, that’s for her and whoever is with her. The rest sleep in the room next door.”

“The walls are thin in this place,” Rock warns. I get what he’s saying. Noise is going to carry, and noise has the potential to be a trigger.

“Can we watch?” Hyde asks.

“No.”

He doesn’t look happy, but he’ll take it for now.

“Will you tell us about it, like what she looks like, what she feels like, what she tastes like?”

“Yeah, Hyde. I’ll tell you.”

He wraps his hands around the back of his neck and cracks his bones, releasing tension.

“You guys watch TV, so she’s not wondering what you’re doing.”

“Okay.”

Rock rises from the table, grabbing the empty plastic containers which he takes to the kitchen to put in the trash. Hyde wanders to the area set up with four chairs in front of a TV. When he flicks it on, the sound echoes in the space, the upbeat presenter’s voice annoying and false.

Lory appears, scanning the room with wide eyes. She’s freshened up, removing her makeup so her skin is clear and a little pink from scrubbing. Without the dramatic eye makeup, she looks even younger and prettier.

“They’re going to watch some TV,” I say, rising from the bench. “Wanna come with me?”

It’s part question and part instruction and her throat moves with a swallow. She bites the inside of her lips as I hold out my arm to motion her back toward her makeshift bedroom. When we get inside, she stands by the bed while I slowly close the door. I lean against it, cautious about approaching too quickly.

“That dress doesn’t look comfortable,” I say.

She stares down at herself. “It’s not. It’s not even mine.”

“A friend’s?”

“Yeah. She got me ready for the auction.”

I want to ask her what happened at the auction, why she was there, and what Grady paid her. I want to know her age—she looks really young—and her experience.

She could be a virgin. I hope she isn’t.

But asking her those questions won’t get her in the mood. If anything, it’ll remind her of her life outside and why a woman gets sold like a chattel to service three men in prison. I want her to forget that part.

“You want one of my shirts to wear instead?”

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