My Friend Eric

Part 8

'Leave us please' he said to the guard. 'And tell Sheldon that I do not wish to be disturbed'.

'Eric. What the fuck!'

'I'll let that one go, but you are an inmate in this facility and I am the Warden. You will address me as such'.

'Yes . . . Warden' I replied, rather hesitantly.

'I suppose you are wondering what I am doing here?'

'Yes Warden'.

'Well the Governor is coming to the end of his term and he's not eligible for re-election. You know I've been with him ever since he was a congressman?' I nodded. 'Well he is giving his staff the opportunity of taking up positions in the state, which his successor won't replace. No one with any political ambitions is going to want to be a prison warden. He was quite surprised when I suggested it, but I'd had my eye on this place for some time. I oversaw the new building from the planning stage. Like it?'

'Very comfortable, Er.. I mean Warden'.

'Yes. I made sure it was. Let me show you.'

He got up from behind his desk and walked over to the far wall, where there were two doors. I turned and shuffled along in his wake. He opened one door.

'In here is a bathroom and shower'.

I peered inside at the luxurious, immaculate bathroom, which would grace any five-star hotel.

'Lovely isn't it', he said as he closed the door and opened the second. 'And in there we have a closet, dressing area and some extra space. I often use the officers’ gym first thing in the morning, I suppose you've noticed how hot some of them are? This allows me to come up here and get cleaned up and change, ready for the day’s work.'

Eric was starting to make me feel nervous, especially his insistence on being called Warden. I wasn't sure why I was here. And fuck! I was stupefied by his sudden appearance.

'May I ask you a question, Warden?' I said apprehensively.

'Of course, of course, ask what you want. But I’ll take those cuffs off of you first and you can be more comfortable’.

He went over to his desk and took out a handcuff key. I turned around and he undid the cuffs. I rubbed my wrists as he pointed to a place a few feet in front of his desk where he expected me to stand. He put the key and the cuffs in his pocket and made no attempt to remove the shackles. I knew I needed to stand with my hands at my sides. Rather than sitting behind the desk he perched himself on the edge of it, right in front of me. He was wearing a white shirt with a thin navy tie and the trousers of a light grey suit which hugged his thighs tightly. On his feet he was wearing black tasselled loafers and black socks. He looked awesome, as he usually did. I was very conscious of being in my prison uniform.

'So what do you want to know, convict?'

'What's going on? Why am I in your office?'

'When I saw you last I said I would take care of you. I thought the best way to do that was to keep you in prison’.

'You said that you’d been eyeing this place up for some time and overseen the construction from the Governor’s office?'

'That's right'.

'But it must have been two or three years ago that the plans were drawn up. How could you have known I would be in prison?'

'Very quick on the uptake today Robbie' Eric said as he got up from the desk and walked to look out of the window. 'I said I would take care of you. Not take care of you because you were in prison, but I thought it was the best place to do it. Prison is where you belong.

‘What?'

'I engineered you being here. In fact, I've engineered all your arrests and time in jail or prison'.

I couldn’t say anything, I was stunned.

'Right from that first time during spring break. Do you remember? Of course you do. You looked so hot in cuffs wearing just a pair of shorts. The others did too, but you were the one I wanted to see being cuffed up and taken away'.

'Why?'

'Because you never even looked at me, Robbie, not back then. You were looking at Andy mainly, and look what became of him. We could have been so good together'.

'But you only missed getting busted by minutes. How could you have arranged it?'

'Don't be stupid. It was easy. I made sure I had an excuse to leave. I phoned the cops and told them where there were underage drinkers. I just sat on the beach and watched. None of you even noticed I was there. I thought it might teach you a lesson, but I found out that you fucked Andy in the jail cell. I was so angry about that.'

'So you decided you'd get me thrown in jail again'.

'You're getting the hang of it now. Though I gave you an out. I deliberately made sure to be provocative that night, let you see me naked if only briefly. You could have taken your opportunity to have me there and then, but you didn't. I know you wanted it, but for some reason you didn't take it. So you went to jail. I knew that there would be drugs there, especially when Barry showed up. I’d found out earlier in the day that his girlfriend’s parents were in town. I didn't go to the faculty dinner, said I had come down with something or other. I followed you to Neil's place and waited. Once Barry showed, I waited half an hour and called the cops. What a group of hot studs in cuffs you all were. And of course, you couldn't help yourself again could you? Only this time it didn't take a few years for me to find out. Barry was practically bragging about it.'

'And the third time, when I went to prison for the drugs and the gun?'

'Of course. I was going to get you to run to the liquor store at some point and call the cops. Knew the cops would stop you, especially after an anonymous call saying that you had been driving erratically. You’d get a DUI of course, but I wondered what would happen if the cops found the gun. What I hadn’t counted on was you taking that idiot Phil with you and him buying coke.'

'But you could have gone to prison too if I had said the gun was yours?'

'I knew I wouldn't. I knew you wouldn't let me. But I have to admit it was quite fun experiencing being arrested and taken to jail. Not something I would want to repeat though.'

'And I suppose you knew all about Doug and Adam's dodgy schemes?'

'Of course I knew they were up to no good. They asked me to join their partnership, but I declined. The reason they hired you was to make you the fall guy. I got wind that there was an investigation a few months before the office was raided. I let them know once I understood the investigation was nearing the end. They had already made arrangements for a quick escape. I wonder where they went to.’

I sat there shocked. Not knowing what to say. I knew this was not the time to tell him how hot I’d thought he was now, how hot I thought he had been for some time.

'I don't think I answered the second part of your question' Eric said.

'I don't think I can remember what it was.’

'You asked what you were doing here, in my office. Well, I plan to keep you here. You’ll be assigned to me for your labor detail. Every morning one of the guards will collect you and bring you here. You will prepare my shower and my clothes, shine my shoes, and make sure everything is ready. You will be stationed in the dressing room. There is a chair and a table in there as well as a fridge and a coffee machine. You will prepare my lunch and my coffee whenever I want it and just generally do whatever I want you to do whenever I want you to do it. This assignment will be permanent. You can call it your final career opportunity. You will be controlled and disciplined in proportion to your responsibilities as servant to the warden. I won’t hesitate to correct and punish you whenever necessary to keep you focused on your job. You will not be distracted by any ambiguity about your status. You are a convict and you will be treated as such. What do you say?'

'Do I have an option?'

'Don't be like that, convict. You’re not that stupid. Of course there is another option. You can be assigned to the drain and sewage team, I wouldn't recommend it'.

So this is how I spend my days now. I have to be ready by 7.00am. One of the guards arrives at my cell, I am handcuffed and shackled. I am then escorted over to the admin block where I ensure that Eric's clothes are fully prepared and that his shirt is properly ironed and his suit is pressed. He has three suits in the closet, one black, one light grey and one navy. He also has three pairs of shoes which I ensure are properly shined, one pair of black brogues, one pair of black tasselled loafers and one pair of brown Oxfords. He has several ties, which I ensure are properly matched to his suits and shirts, most of which are white. He has boxer briefs of varying colours and socks, which are predominantly black, blue and grey. I make sure that they are properly arranged.

When he gets in from the gym each morning, I will run his shower, making sure it’s the right temperature. Sometimes he will fuck me before he gets in or sometimes he will want me to get in with him and suck him off. Then I'll lather him up and rub him down. Once he's dressed I'll fetch his coffee and breakfast. About 8.30am he will start work. I will retire to my room and put his clothes in the wash. I suggested to him that it might be good to have a washing machine so I could take care of his laundry for him. He thought this was an excellent idea. So now I deal with all his work clothes and gym clothes. I wash and properly stack all his clothes. I must admit I do like to sniff the crotch of his underwear before it goes in the wash.

At around 10.30am I make him a cappuccino from his coffee machine. At 1.00pm I prepare him lunch. He normally brings it in from the deli in the morning, but he likes me to prepare it for him on a plate with a napkin that he can have at his meeting table. While he eats I stand at the side with my hands clasped behind my back and my eyes pointed at the floor. If I'm lucky he might buy me something nice for lunch too, which I will eat in my room. In the afternoon he will have coffee at around 3.00pm. Then if he isn't too busy he will fuck me again. I will help him get changed into some casual clothes to go home in. At around 5.00pm one of the guards will arrive at the warden's office where I am handcuffed and shackled, and escort me back to my cell. The next day I start all over again.

The other prisoners are curious about where I go and what I get up to. They know I am privileged, but they know I am protected. Eric is taking care of me as he said he would.

THE END

My Friend Eric

Part 7

It was several weeks before I was allowed visitors, but as soon as I could I wrote to Eric to ask him to visit me. He came the week after. It wasn't the first time he had visited me in prison. He came to see me once a month during my first sentence. I think he always felt a bit guilty about that. After all he could have been doing time with me.

On the day he came I was excited, happy to be seeing my old friend again. I was collected from my cell by one of the guards and taken down to the visiting area. There I was told to go and sit by window 12 and to await my visitor. As I sat down Eric appeared on the other side of the glass. We each picked up one of the telephone receivers.

'Hello Robbie! How you doing?' Eric looked like he was doing well. He was tanned and wearing a navy blue t-shirt which accentuated his arms and upper body.

'I'm not doing too bad, all things considering.'

'Good. Have you got a good cellmate?'

'Yeah, he's okay actually. We get on. Can't ask for much more than that.'

'That's good man.'

'I guess I really fucked up this time Eric. I can be a really stupid sonofabitch. If only I had been with you rather than chasing after other guys. Bit late saying that now'.

'Well yes. You know Robbie you could have taken a different course, you could have had a relationship with me and I would have taken care of you. But instead you ignored me back in high school and in college and even after you got out of prison the last time. I was there for you, you could have had me any time you wanted. But you were too busy chasing after pricks who would never love you back. Like Andy in high school. You fucked him in jail, but do you remember the way he looked at you at my 25th party?'

I was shocked. He had never spoken to me like that before.

'How did you know I fucked him in jail? He swore me to secrecy'.

'I had a drink with him a few years later, he got pissed and the whole thing came out.'

'And you never said anything all this time?'

Eric just shook his head.

'There is a lot you don't know, Robbie'.

'Such as?'

'All in good time. And speaking of time, I think it's time for me to go now. I'll be seeing you real soon. I said I'd take care of you and I will.'

'How do you mean?'

'I'll see you soon Robbie'.

Eric started to get up.

'Hang on, one last thing. Whatever happened to Andy? Not seen him since that party'.

'He's in here, Robbie. Turned to drink after his wife left him. She found out he was fucking men behind her back. Ended up getting a string of DUIs, and then a hit and run. Some poor bastard is in a wheelchair for life because of him. He got ten years, he was lucky - could have been a lot more’.

I spent the next few weeks trying to identify Andy, but no luck. In a prison full of thousands of men all dressed the same and all with naked domes, most of whom don't care to be stared at, it's not easy trying to find someone. Besides, what was the point. It's not like we had anything in common anymore. What played on my mind more was what Eric meant when he said there was a lot I didn't know. In prison you don't have too many distractions, so you play these things over and over again. The more I thought about it the more worried I became.

I comforted myself with remembering that Eric said he would take care of me. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that or how he could do so while I was in prison, but Eric was ingenious at times. He had always taken care of me. It was me that fucked things up just like that last job I had.

After I had left prison the first time I went to stay with Eric. I had nowhere else to go. My apartment in New York had been sold as had my car and virtually everything else. Eric had taken care of it all and invested what was left over so that I had some money to come out to. That wouldn't last long of course and I needed to get another job. I thought I was destined for something menial, but at a party one night Eric introduced me to Doug. Doug was a good looking fifty something who had just set up his own investment business. He and his partner Adam were looking for someone to manage their sales team. Eric had known Doug socially and had hyped up my experience from when I worked in New York. It wasn't really the same at all but Doug asked me to visit the offices the following week to talk more.

I went along not expecting much to come from it especially once they knew about my record. But the meeting went really well and Doug had said that Eric had explained everything to him and that it really wasn't a problem. Adam was younger than Doug and immensely attractive, but it was immediately obvious that this partnership was not one just founded on business. Adam didn't say much but he clearly liked me and before I left that afternoon I had been offered the job of Sales Manager.

The job was everything I had hoped it would be and as the business grew so did my salary. I was soon bringing in six figures again and after a while Doug and Adam made me a junior partner. I couldn't believe how my life had turned around. Just a few years before, I’d been doing time.

A year or so later I got a call from Doug one Friday evening to say that he and Adam were going down to the Cayman Islands for a few days. They needed to do some business down there but would stay on for a short break. He asked if I wouldn't mind holding the fort. This wasn't that unusual, though it had never been at such short notice before.

On the following Monday I went into work as usual. Driving into the office in the new top of the range Mercedes convertible that I had bought just a few weeks before, I parked in the underground lot before riding the elevator up to the eighth floor where our office was located. It was already busy as I walked through the open plan wearing my black Armani suit and Gucci loafers, heading for my office. I liked to wear expensive clothes at work, people noticed these things and it made me feel important. As I neared my office I saw Aaron, the cute assistant sales manager, who was all too eager to please, rushing to ask if I wanted coffee.

Literally as I sat down at my desk I heard a commotion in the outer office. As I got up my door burst open and there was a detective with two uniformed officers.

'We have a warrant to search these offices in connection with an investigation into fraud. We also have a warrant for your arrest together with those for Douglas Gibson and Adam French. Turn around and place your hands behind your back'.

I assumed the position, which was coming to me quite naturally now. The handcuffs snapped around my wrists and I was led out into the office that I had walked through just a few minutes before as king of the world. Now I was humiliated in front of my junior staff.

I had no idea what this was about and hoped that Doug and Adam would be able to clear it up before long. But of course Doug and Adam never returned. They were long gone. It seemed they took another flight from the Cayman Islands as soon as they landed and headed off to somewhere in the Middle East, In the meantime I stood trial. My attorney tried to cut a deal with the DA, but he wasn't interested. It seemed a lot of people lost a lot of money and he wanted a show trial. Even that little twerp Aaron testified against me to save his own skin. He also said I sexually harassed him too. The little shit!

Just another time I screwed up in spite of Eric's help.

Still . . . After six months in the pen without another word, I had all but given up on Eric. Perhaps he had given up on me too. I couldn't blame him if he had. But it left me feeling all alone. I got into a routine, as you do in prison, and soon you start to think of little outside your small world inside the walls.

Then one day as we were assembling for work detail I was pulled out of the line. I had been working on washing the prison vehicles, which was actually quite a cushy number compared to some of the work that prisoners had to do. So I was worried when I was pulled aside. I hoped I wasn't going to be sent on a hard labour detail. I was told to stand to face the wall while the other prisoners were sent on their way. One of the guards approached me and told me to put my hands behind my back. He cuffed me and produced a pair of shackles and snapped them around my ankles. It was the first time I had been restrained like this in prison and it made me quite nervous.

The guard took me by the arm and escorted me out of the cell block. He didn't say anything and I dared not ask. He walked quite briskly, which made it difficult to keep in step. The shackles bit into my ankles even though they were secured over my pants. Eventually we arrived at the administration block. It was a brand new building, completed only a couple of months ago. We had watched the comings and goings of the builders when we were washing the prison vehicles. Some of those guys were very hot indeed. If only I had been a free man.

But now I entered the building. It was clean and bright. Reminded me of the office I had worked in only the previous year. The guard went up to the reception desk and was told that he was expected. He took me to the elevator, where he made me stand with my face to the wall, and we went up to the second floor. When the elevator door opened I turned and entered into a large open plan office with a dozen or so people working on their computers or on the phone. Most were civilians but some were in correctional officer uniforms. The guard marched me through the office, some of the staff turned to stare as they heard the chain of the shackles rattling on the floor.

At the end of the open plan we turned left into another corridor where we passed a series of office doors, each with a plaque indicating the job of the person inside: Head of IT, Head of Personnel, Senior Correctional Officer, Deputy Warden, and finally Warden. We entered this last door, where there was an outer office and a prissy young man, wearing a white shirt and bow tie, sitting behind a desk with a name plate which said 'Executive Assistant to the Warden'. He looked up as we entered.

'He's expecting you, go in’ he said in a rather camp voice that just didn’t seem right in a prison.

The guard turned to me and told me to stand to face the wall. I did as I was told and then I heard him knock on the door and he went in and closed the door behind him.

What the hell was happening? I wondered whether they had caught up with Doug and Adam and decided to release me. Or had I done something I needed to be disciplined for? My mind was racing, you know how it does, when you know something is going on, but just not what. All logic told me it couldn't be anything bad; they wouldn't have brought me to these nice surroundings if I was going to go to the hole. The only logical thing I could think of was that I was going to somehow be released. Perhaps Eric had come up trumps - how could I have doubted him!

I heard the door open. The guard barked for me to turn around and follow him in. I shuffled forward and entered a swanky corporate office that wouldn't have been out of place in Wall Street. I turned to face the desk, and sitting in the Warden's chair was Eric.

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 6

The next morning I was sitting in an interview room at the county jail, having been booked in the night before. I was wearing an orange jumpsuit and was cuffed and shackled. I was waiting for my lawyer, an appointment that Eric had said he would arrange, when I called him after being booked. The door opened and a middle aged man in an expensive suit came in.

'Well young man, you've got yourself into a lot of trouble. Possession of a firearm without a licence. Possession of a large quantity of a controlled substance. The DUI is the least of your problems. You are looking at serious jail time.'

'The drugs belonged to another guy. Phil. I don't know his surname. He bought them while I was waiting for him in the car. I swear I didn't know he had them until he was back in the car. I wanted nothing to do with it. He just dropped them when he ran off. As for the gun, that was Eric's, it was in the car which he let me borrow, he'll confirm that.'

'Well son, here's the thing. First, the cop who arrested you didn't see this Phil guy run away from the car. There is no evidence to place him in the car. Plus your fingerprints are on the cocaine'.

'That's because I just put it in the glove compartment. Shit!'

'And I'm afraid it gets worse. You told the police last night that it was Eric's car and gun and that he had allowed you to use the car'.

'Yes that's right'.

'Well right after you told them that they went to see Eric and they arrested him. Because if he gave you permission to use the car he might also be considered criminally liable for the possession, giving you a firearm, and the DUI.'

'Oh fuck, you mean he's here in jail too'.

''Yes, he is in an interview room identical to this one just down the corridor. He has wisely said nothing to the police, but he has told me that he did let you use his car. He is prepared to tell that to the police and it was his gun in the glove compartment so that charge against you can be dropped, but you need to understand that will mean Eric going to jail. That gun is unregistered, and possession of an unregistered firearm is a felony in this state. The DA is currently running for Congress against Eric's boss. He would like nothing more than to send one of his employees to jail. I'm afraid there is nothing that is going to prevent you going to prison, but if you cooperate I can probably get your sentence reduced.’

'How long are we talking?'

'The DA will press for five years, but I can probably get it reduced to two'.

'I can't let Eric go to jail after all he has done for me. The DUI is my fault and if I hadn't got busted for that none of this would have happened. It's not his fault at all. Tell him to say I took the car without his permission. It’s my gun, not his. I had it so . . . so I could use it if I had to . . . with the coke around . . . . '.

A few moments later I was being taken back to my cell when from another door Eric was led out. We were both chained and cuffed and I had an instant boner. As we passed each other he just mouthed the words 'thank you'.

My lawyer arranged a deal fairly quickly. Once the DA realised there was no way to prosecute Eric, he lost interest in me. It was not long before I was standing in front of a judge while he passed a sentence of three years imprisonment. I spent another couple of weeks in the county jail before being transported to the state prison.

The thing about waiting to be transferred to prison from county jail is that you don't actually know when it will happen. It could take a few days or it might take several weeks. The first time I was actually in jail for three and a half weeks but this time it was just a matter of days. No matter how long you wait, when it does come it’s a shock, you get no warning.

I was woken early by one of the guards telling me I had ten minutes to take a piss and a shit because I wouldn't get another chance for several hours. Then he reappeared with cuffs and chains. My hands were cuffed in front and attached to a belly chain and leg shackles applied around the ankles. Scott watched silently from his bunk. I couldn’t tell whether he sympathized with me or whether he was just making a promise to himself that he’d never end up like me. I was led through the jail to an area where other prisoners were also chained up for the journey. We were all loaded onto a bus which had DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS painted on the side and we were locked into our seats. I remembered it all from my last trip to prison - the steel seat, cold under my butt; the cuffs biting my wrists, the smell of men’s fear and humiliation that was as much a part of the bus as the scuffs those men had left on the floor. The only difference was that this time I knew I was headed to the Penitentiary and not to the prison where they put short-timers.

The bus started up, two guards and seven prisoners all headed to the same location about four hours away. Last time, the bus passed through the familiar streets of my home town before heading onto the interstate for a couple of hours. This trip was longer, and it would be my final trip. I looked out of the window, which was covered in mesh, and squinted to look at the trees and the fields. I saw signs to familiar towns along the way and I knew that I would not visit them again. I tried to sleep and failed; my chains wouldn’t let me - or maybe it was all the regrets I was carrying inside. I wanted this trip to end - but I didn’t want to get where I was going.

Eventually, there it was - the sign that said State Penitentiary, Next Exit. The bus pulled off the interstate and meandered its way through a series of small rundown towns. Every now and then I saw another sign to the Pen. Each sign an indication that we were getting closer. It was waiting for me, only 20 miles, 10 miles, 1 mile away. Then I saw it, a grey mass looming in the distance. All the prisoners stared at it as it came into view, but it was obvious which ones had been on the bus before. We didn’t stare at it long; we didn’t need to, but the first timers kept looking. They swallowed hard; one had a tear in his eye. They had no idea what was to come. I did. I also knew it would be worse than before.

A 30-foot wall can make even a bus look small when a hole called a “gate” opens up and swallows it. The bus moved slowly through the opening before stopping at the next check point - the wire mesh fence that ran around the perimeter about 40 feet inside the wall. If you wanted to escape you would have to scale the fence, cross the dead zone, then scale the wall, which like the fence was sumptuously adorned with bales of razor wire. There was no way you could get out of here.

The bus shuddered to a halt, the door at the front opened and one of the correctional officers boarded and spoke to the two COs who had taken us to prison. He turned and addressed us.

'In a moment we will be taking you off the bus one by one. You will cooperate fully and not give any of my officers any trouble at all. Any non-cooperation will be punished severely.' He turned to his men.

'Okay, start unloading'.

It was as if we were some form of cargo. Which I suppose we were. One by one we were unchained from the bus and taken off to line up alongside it, still in our full transport chains. Once we were all off, the guards led us inside the concrete building that was designed to welcome us. As I entered, it momentarily went dark as my eyes adjusted from sunlight to the dimness of a room with bars covering its windows. The noise of the chains echoed on the concrete floor as we formed up along a dirty yellow line.

Now that we were unquestionably in prison, the guards came along and unlocked our cuffs and chains. We had been in them for so long that it felt strange when they came off. I wanted to rub my wrists, but I knew the drill. I needed to stand still and only move when I was ordered to. Once everyone was unchained came the order I knew would be next:

'Strip'.

We were all in our yellow jumpsuits so it didn't take long to get undressed and put the jail clothes in the boxes dropped in front of us. In less than a minute we were all standing naked, ready to be searched. Wiggling your ears, opening your mouth, running your fingers through your hair, lifting your feet and wiggling your toes, squatting and coughing and bending over and grabbing your cheeks, that’s what it means to be processed into the pen. One by one we received a cavity search, the gloved finger roughly pushing into our butts to check for contraband. This wasn't some horny fingering session; it was rough and functionary and not an act of love.

As soon as the guards had searched everyone it was off have our heads shaved. This was the worst part for me. I had a good head of hair, even though I say so myself, and I used to pay a lot of money to keep it just right. Now that hair would be falling to the floor. All off in a matter of seconds, to be replaced by a dome of stubble. I was the last of the seven to meet with the barber. I watched as the hair from the other convicts accumulated on the floor. Some of them were good looking guys, but once their hair came off it was difficult to tell them apart. It's amazing how much of your appearance comes down to your hair.

Then it was on to the shower, lukewarm water spraying out of just two shower heads. Before we entered we were each given a dollop of gungy slime to rub into us. I knew from my last time behind bars that this was the delousing stuff they put on all new prisoners. It stung like crazy as I rubbed it onto my head, pits, crotch, and ass; and the three of us who were under my shower head rushed to get the water to wash it off. I was just grateful I only had to compete with two other guys and not the three that were under the other head. As usual the towels were inadequate and as we were lined up once more we were all still dripping wet.

Still shivering and moist we were taken to get our new prison uniforms. We queued up waiting for the prisoners who were sorting out the gear to deal with us. They were in no hurry and neither were the guards. One by one we were called up to the counter. The prisoner on the desk shouted sizes to another prisoner in the stock room. He slowly returned with a bundle for each of us, the clothes we would be wearing for the rest of our lives - blue pants with a yellow stripe down the sides, a heavy blue shirt, with 'DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS' emblazoned in yellow across the back, white boxers, white t-shirt, white socks, heavy black boots, and a thick blue coat, again with 'DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS across the back. Then the final piece of our attire—a little blue cap, like a kid would wear. We had multiples of everything except the boots, coat, and cap, and everything was stamped with our convict number. After getting dressed we each picked up our spare clothes together with bedding and a laundry bag (also numbered) and lined up again.

There was always a lot of lining up in prison. It took a lot of getting used to the first time I was sent up, but now it came back to me very quickly. Once the guards were ready we headed out of the intake area and towards one of the three cell blocks that made up the Pen, each of them bigger and tougher looking than anything I’d lived in before. We were moving toward Block A, a giant pile of stone and bars with “1891” carved over the door. Here we were halted and the guard leading us started to talk to one of the guards at the door. They were laughing and joking. After all it was just another work day for them, not the first day of their life in a cage. The door to the block was opened and you could begin to hear the noise of men behind bars. As we stepped inside and stood on the floor at the bottom of the cell block, the decibels rose. I looked up at the five tiers of cells which towered overhead. As I did so a hush came over the whole block as the prisoners came to the bars of their cells and took a look at the fresh meat which had just arrived.

The guard looked down at his clip board and quickly gave us our cell assignments. Other guards escorted us to our new homes. I, along with one of the other prisoners, was taken up to the top tier. Clumping up and up the metal stairs, toting my gear--it was a good job I had a head for heights. Along the rows of cells, prisoners stood at the bars with their arms hanging through, most just staring, some making comments. One even gave me a wolf whistle. Well I suppose it was better than not getting one.

Then you arrive at your own cell. Anything I had before was temporary accommodations; this would be my new permanent home. We stopped and the guard turned and shouted.

'243!’

A buzzer sounded and the cell door slid open.

'Well what are you waiting for' the guard said as he looked at me. 'Get inside'.

I walked in. There in front of me was a double bunk with another inmate lying on the bottom, a toilet, a sink, a battered mirror above the sink and some hooks on the side wall. That was the extent of my furnishings.

'Close 243,' the guard shouted.

The buzzer went off once more and the bars slammed shut.

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 5

After my strip search had been completed I was made to dress out in a bright yellow jumpsuit with 'Sentenced' stencilled down the leg and on the back. Most of the other prisoners were in orange jumpsuits, the yellow one singled me out. It showed that I wouldn't be here long. I was off to the state penitentiary. That would give me status in this place. I wasn't in here for a bit of weed or DUI. I was destined for long term incarceration. After fresh mugshots were taken, shots that would no doubt appear on the evening news and across the internet, I was taken to the cell block. The block was busy and noisy. At first, they didn't seem to know which cell to put me in, but I was soon allocated one with a young guy called Scott.

As I entered the cell and the door slammed behind me. Scott immediately vacated the bottom bunk. He obviously knew what the yellow uniform was and if he didn't there was always 'SENTENCED' to make sure there was no misunderstanding. Scott must have looked as I did when I first spent a few nights in jail, young and a bit scared. I settled on my bunk and it wasn't long before we started chatting. It transpired that he was serving a short sentence for DUI and possession. He was in college and hoping he could get back without too many consequences. I gave him some reassurance that I had been in a similar position a few years ago. though I could hardly say 'well look at me now'!

It wasn't long before we started on the subject of my sentence and how I felt about going to the pen, what it was like and going there for life. I'd been to prison before, it was a while ago, but at least I knew what to expect. We had nothing else to talk about so I told Scott how I once came to be incarcerated for a three year stretch.

I was four years out of college and doing quite well for myself. Eric's father had some connections at a stock broker’s in New York and got me an interview there. I managed to land the job and really enjoyed the work. It wasn't long before I had been promoted and was earning six figures. As my wage increased so did my spending. I managed to get myself a nice apartment in a good area of town, I bought myself a new Audi sports car, I shopped in the designer stores, wore made to measure suits and handmade shoes. Life was good, very good, before the fateful trip to celebrate Eric's 25th birthday.

After leaving college, Eric had taken a job in his dad's law firm, but after a few years he realised that being a lawyer was not for him. It took him a while to get away from the job, I know his dad was keen for him to follow in his footsteps, but Eric was determined to follow a different path and he eventually got a senior job on the staff of a newly elected congressman. Although we now lived a thousand miles apart and hadn't seen each other in a couple of years, we still managed to keep in contact pretty regularly. I was delighted that Eric had found himself a more fulfilling career.

I flew back to my home town one Friday evening in July. It was the first time I had been back since getting the job in New York. It was Eric's birthday the following day and he was going to have a party at his place. He picked me up from the airport that evening. I remember seeing him as I walked out of the arrival hall. He was beaming and gave me a huge welcoming hug.

'It's been too long buddy' he said. He took my bag and we went out to find his car. Once again I found myself admiring how hot he looked. He was in shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt with flip flops. Once in the car we found ourselves chatting away as if we had only seen each other the previous day. It was so good to be in his company again and I think he thought the same about me.

As we drove out of the airport and headed towards town he asked if I could pass him his sunglasses from the glove compartment. I opened it up and as I picked them up I saw a pistol sitting in there.

'What the hell's with the gun?' I said, taking it out to look at it. 'You into bank robbery now?'

He laughed. ‘No, there have been a few robberies locally so I thought I should get one for protection. Just been to the range this morning.’

I put it back and closed the glove compartment and soon forgot about the weapon as we headed back to his place. That evening we sat and talked and drank just like old times. Like those college years when we shared an apartment. It was so good to be back in his company once more. I vowed to come back more often and also got a promise from him that he would visit me in New York once the forthcoming election was over in November.

Eric's party took place the following evening at his place. I didn't know many of the guests, most were colleagues or recent friends, but Eric introduced me as his best friend and it was like I had an elevated status. The only person I did recognise was Andy, the guy I shared a cell with down in Florida. We chatted briefly, but he looked apprehensive as he introduced his girlfriend to me. Andy was one of the hottest kids back in high school, but it was now obvious that he had peaked in the looks department. It was only seven or so years since that night in the cell, but he had now put on some weight, his hair was starting to recede and lines were forming around his eyes. It was strange how quickly people could change in appearance.

The party was great fun, everyone enjoying themselves until about a couple of hours in, when there was an almighty crash. Those of us who were hanging around outside rushed back into the house to find that one of Eric's friends had fallen on the table that had held all the bottles of spirits, bottles now broken all over the floor.

'Fucking hell Phil, what have you done?' The guy's girlfriend was screaming.

Phil was clearly off his face and started to apologise to Eric.

'I'll pay for some more liquor' he spluttered.

'It's okay Phil, there's plenty left'.

Only there wasn't. Sure, we still had beers and wine, but the party was warming up and the last thing we needed was to run out of alcohol.

'Give me your keys, Eric, and I'll run down to the liquor store'.

After I assured him that I was fine to drive, he gave me the keys and I went outside to get his car. Before I got there I heard Phil running after me.

'Hey, wait for me, it's my fault. I'll come and pay for it'.

That was my big mistake, letting Phil get in. We pulled out of the drive and drove down the road for about a mile where there was a liquor store. We both went in and bought a lot of drink. Phil didn't have enough money on him, so I ended up paying for it. I didn't want Eric's party to be a blow out. We carried it back to the car and as I opened the trunk, Phil turned to me and said 'I won't be a minute' and rushed off.

I sat in the car for about five minutes before he came back.

'Done what you need to do?' I asked.

'Yeah' he said with a big grin on his face as he waved a couple of bags of coke in my face.

'Fuck, put that away will you. What do you think you're doing? You didn’t have enough money to replace the drink you smashed, but you had some for that'.

I was so annoyed that I drove off a lot quicker than I should have and it wasn't long before there were flashing lights in my rear-view mirror.

'Oh that's fucking brilliant! Listen, I'm going to pull into the next side street. As I do, chuck that as far as you can out of the window.’

Phil didn't say anything. I put my indicator on and turned right, into the side street. The police car was about ten seconds behind me, enough time for Phil to throw the coke, but as I pulled up he leapt out of the car and ran off leaving the coke on the passenger seat. By the time I picked it up the police car was right behind me so I just put it straight in the glove compartment.

The cop made no move to chase Phil, they clearly hadn't seen him. He got out of his car and slowly walked up to the driver's door.

'Good evening Sir, can I see your driver's licence and registration please', he said as he shone his flashlight in my face.

I handed him the documents. I explained that it wasn't my car, but that I was just collecting some drink for a party. He wanted me to show him what was in the trunk and to provide a receipt for the purchase. This I had and when he looked at it he seemed satisfied. I started to relax.

He told me that he could smell alcohol and that he would need to carry out a sobriety test. I had done these before and never failed one so was pretty confident. I shouldn't have been. At the end of it he informed me that he suspected I was driving under the influence of alcohol and that I was under arrest. By this time another police car had pulled up.

'Hey Jerry,' the newly arrived cop shouted. 'You need a hand?'

'I'm just taking him into custody' he said, and handcuffs snapped around my wrists. 'Could you secure the car?'

My hands were now firmly cuffed behind my back and Jerry had started to walk me towards his cruiser, when the other cop called out.

'Hey Jerry, you got to take a look at this'.

With one hand on my arm Jerry guided me over to the passenger door where the other cop was. In one latex gloved hand he held up the packets of coke that Phil had acquired before running off, and in the other Eric's gun.

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 4

So the five of us lined up against the longest in the apartment, putting our hands on the wall. The taller of the two stood by the door and watched while the shorter one patted us down one at time. Neil was first. He was only in his shorts; he had taken his shirt off hours before and as usual he was barefoot. The guy never wore shoes at home and if he went out would only have flip flops. The cop turned his pockets inside out, then reached behind him taking out a pair of cuffs and pulling Neil's hands behind his back, reading him his rights as he did so.

Next it was Barry's turn. Barry was the odd one out. Not a swimmer's build at all, he was about 5'10, stocky build, with dark hair. He was also wearing more than the rest of us. He had a check shirt and jeans with Blue Nike TNs on his feet. He got the cop’s second set of cuffs; these seemed to be hinged rather than chain, but as I would find out much less easy to move in.

The taller cop had to pass over his two sets of cuffs. Next up was Frank. He had jet black hair and was wearing just a t-shirt and shorts which sagged down around his ass, showing off his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Like me he was wearing flip flops . The cuffs snapped around his wrists and his rights were read and I knew it was now my turn.

I felt the cop run his hands over my torso and down to my shorts. I was getting hard. I'm not sure if it was due to the overall situation or having a hot cop run his hands over my body, maybe a bit of both. I felt very self conscious, he must have noticed I still had on my plain white t-shirt and khaki shorts. The cop ran his fingers around the inside of the waist band of my shorts and tuned my pockets inside out. He started telling me that I had the right to remain silent. As he was doing so he took my left arm and I felt the cuffs snap around my wrist. Then the right wrist. Like the cuffs they used on Barry, these were hinged cuffs, with little movement, and I realised I was getting ever harder.

After me, it was Jacob's turn. He had a mousy brown buzz cut and was dressed in a red polo shirt and grey shorts. He was wearing white Adidas trainers with white ankle socks. At first the two cops didn't have any cuffs for him, which seemed somewhat unfair, but by the time he was frisked and had his rights read another couple of cops had arrived and he was duly cuffed like the rest of us.

We left the apartment with four cops escorting us down the stairs and out of the building. As I got outside there were flashing red and blue lights filling the night sky and people had come onto their balconies or were hanging out of their windows to see what was going on. The five of us were perp walked to the waiting police van.

The door of the van was opened and we each climbed in. It was only then that I noticed that Neil was still barefoot as well as shirtless. I was almost sure that all eyes would have been on him as we walked towards the van. Once we were locked in, the door slammed shut and we were off on our way. We hadn't spoken to each other for about 30 minutes. We just all looked at each other and burst out laughing. I guess it was the drink and the drugs, but in the company of those guys it seemed as though we could take on the world.

The effects of the stimulants would soon wear off, though. Very soon we were in a holding cell with about a dozen other guys. Some were passed out, others seemed to have aggressive tendencies towards anyone who looked in their direction. Another guy looked as though he was in tears as he contemplated the thought of a DUI conviction. The five of us just stayed in a corner until we were called.

When that happened, eventually, we were taken to another area of the police station. We were told to sit on some metal seats and we were each cuffed to the metal pole that held them all together. At that point we were asked if we wished to make a phone call. We had already agreed that I would do that and would call Eric. So I was released from the seat and taken to a phone. I got through to Eric almost immediately. He was back from his faculty dinner and was in bed. He told me not to worry and that he would sort things out as soon as he could.

It was about half an hour after I had finished my phone call when we were released from the seats and taken to another room. We were told to line up on a yellow line and a cop stood in front of us and told us to remove our clothing. I don't think any of us was expecting this.

'I haven't got all night. Strip out of your clothes and put them in the plastic tray in front of you'.

We had all seen each other naked before in the locker room, well not Barry of course, but the rest of us. So why did it seem so embarrassing? Was it the cop standing there? Barry slipped off his sneakers and started to unbutton his shirt. The rest of us just followed. Neil was very quickly down to his grey Armani briefs, while Barry was soon just in his red and blue check boxer shorts.

'I said strip, not stop at your underwear' the cop said with a touch of menace to his voice.

Soon we were all standing there naked. Fortunately, I was not as hard as I had been, but was still popping a semi. I couldn't look at the other guys. We were ordered to run our fingers through our hair, open our mouths and stick out our tongues, lift our feet and wiggle our toes. Then came the more intimate checks. Lifting our dicks and our balls, bending over and spreading our cheeks while the officer looked with his flashlight. We had to squat and cough. It was all so humiliating. The giggles were long gone.

After the search we were made to stand on the line once more and face forward. No one said a word. An officer called us one by one to get our jail clothes. Black and white striped scrubs with white socks and boxers. Frank stared at them looking as though he had never had to wear something so disgusting. The rest of us climbed into our uniforms and put on the cheap plastic slides which one of the officers threw at us. As we were getting dressed I realised that I didn't know whether any of the other guys had been to jail before. None had said that they had. But here we now were, all five of us in our stripes.

As soon as we were all dressed out we were taken to have our fingerprints and mugshots taken. The mugshots would be on the website the following morning and no doubt doing the rounds across campus by the afternoon. There was no way we could hide from the humiliation. By now Frank was almost in tears. He was worried about what his old man would say, not to mention what trouble he would be in with the college authorities. Barry tried to reassure him that students got arrested all the time and it was no big deal, but Frank seemed to be beyond reason at this point.

After the mugshots were taken we were issued with our bedding and led to the cell block. Even though it was now very late it was still noisy. One drunken prisoner was shouting, a cell door slammed shut, the noise of which echoed around the block. I was sure I wouldn't get much sleep that night. I was right about that but not for the reasons I expected.

Once we were in the cell block we were each assigned cells. Each cell had two beds and Neil was the unlucky one who was assigned a cell with a stranger. Frank and Jacob were locked up together, which left me with Barry. At least I wasn't left with Frank’s whining, but I didn't know Barry that well and would have been much happier with Neil. However, after the cell door slammed shut, we lay down on our bunks and started to talk about what had just happened. It didn't take Barry long to tell me that being in jail made him incredibly horny. This was his fourth time in jail. Once for underage drinking, before his folks came and bailed him out. Then three days for a DUI. He’d also been busted by the campus cops for possession. Once he’d been locked up with a hot gay guy who showed him a good time.

'it's funny’ he said. 'But I've never been with a guy other than in jail'.

Given what had happened the last time I was in jail, I was wide awake to the possibility that this might be an interesting night. I started to rub my cock in the hope that he would take the hint. He did. Soon he was down to his boxers and his enormous dick popped out of the fly. It was amazingly juicy and I slid it into my mouth. It did not take long for him to deposit his load, warm and sticky. I lapped it up. Then he lay face down on the bunk, as I climbed on top of him and slid my dick into his ass. We were two horny animals locked up in a cage.

Remembering the night with Andy a few years before, I expected that Barry would not want me to mention our night of raw sex to the other guys. But he just laughed.

'You can be as discreet as you want Robbie, but I had a fucking amazing night and I don't care which of the guys knows it. We won't mention it to Jessica though, eh? I'm glad I was locked up with you, not just the sex, but you're not a novice either are you? I saw the way you handled yourself. You didn't flinch when they issued you the uniform. You've been to jail before?'

I told him about the time at spring break and what had happened with Andy that night.

'Listen Robbie, there are no straight guys in jail. You may have a girl outside, but she's not in here and after going through that intake process you're gonna be as horny as hell. Even Jacob might have got lucky if Frank stopped snivelling'.

As we discovered later it turned out Frank had been in a 'how can you think about sex at a time like this’ mood. Which made Jacob all the more jealous when Barry gleefully informed him about our night. Neil hadn't been lucky either. He was locked up with a drunk who snored the whole night long.

Barry and I didn't see the other three guys again until we were being loaded into the van for court. By now we were all chained up--arms, legs, and a belly chain--to make sure we really couldn't move. Frank had tears in his eyes, you could see the humiliation he felt. But I wasn't worried. Eric would work something out; he always did.

We were taken into the courtroom with a whole load of other prisoners who had been brought into custody the night before. All of us in our stripes. Some bold, some washed out. Mine were pretty new, but by the looks of them Frank’s had been through a thousand washes. Eric was waiting for us. In fact, he gave us a wave as we shuffled in and took our seats. An older guy was sitting with him. I didn't know it then, but this was the law professor who was just about to take retirement. Eric had persuaded him to help out his buddies in a real live case.

We sat and waited, what seemed like hours for other cases to come and go. Some guys were given bail, some kept in custody. When it was our turn the old professor advised us to plead guilty to the charge of possession and disturbing the peace. Which we did, and then he gave a convincing speech to the judge in which he told him what fine upstanding young men we were, men who had had a momentary lapse of judgement.

We were all back home by the end of the day. I regretted it at the time. I had hoped that we would get a few days at least. I wanted to have a couple more steamy nights with Barry, but it wasn’t to be.

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 3

I was suddenly brought back to the present by the sound of the key turning in the lock of the cell. The door opened and a big muscular court bailiff helped me to my feet. He led me out of the cell and down the corridor where two sheriff deputies were waiting. The bailiff told me to stop while he filled out some paper work on a clip board. He proceeded to uncuff my hands from behind my back.

'He's all yours' he said to the two sheriff deputies. 'Why isn’t he going on the bus with the others?’

'The DA wants to get some media coverage, gonna walk him slowly to the car. Lots of media interest'.

So much for arriving early to avoid the press. It seemed I was now to be perp walked to the car for the benefit of the evening news.

One of the deputies took me by the arm and told me to kneel on a wooden bench. He produced a set of shackles which he quickly applied to my ankles. He helped me stand down from the bench and the other deputy pulled out a long belly chain which he swiftly wrapped around my waist and attached a pair of handcuffs through the loop at the front. The handcuffs snapped on my wrists and the tail of the belly chain was secured to the rest with a padlock.

Each of the deputies took hold of one of my arms and led me to a solid metal door. The door opened and I was struck by how bright the sun was. I could hardly focus on anything. But I heard the noise. Dozens of reporters all shouting questions, and then they came into focus. I could only take small steps and the two deputies were hardly hurrying as they led me to the waiting car. Cameras were in my face and reporters were blocking the path. Other deputies were pushing them away so we could get though the throng. I was determined to hold my head up high and ignore the inane questions that were being shouted at me. 'How did I feel about the sentence'. 'Oh yeah, I'm overjoyed'. What a dumb-ass! Though not as big a dumb-ass as me.

We eventually reached the car and the world watched me struggle to get in. One of the deputies pushed my head down and the door slammed shut. Cameras were all around the car, flashes going off all over the place in order to get a picture for tomorrow's paper. Eventually the two deputies got in the front and the car drove off, leaving the media circus behind. As we reached the end of the road the car slowed down for the traffic lights and there on the corner was Eric. He'd come to see me off.

It wasn't long before we got to the jail, the high walls with barbed wire on top gave it away. The car pulled up outside the gates and the deputies had a quick chat with the guy on duty. The gates opened and I was driven up to the processing centre. I'd been through this before, both at this jail and others. The door of the car opened and I was helped out by one of the deputies. I shuffled along into the concrete building, a heavy steel door opening to let me in and closing loudly behind me. The intake area was virtually empty. On previous visits to jail there had always been a lot of other prisoners about, but this time it was just me.

The two deputies who had escorted me in handed me over to another officer He ordered me to stand on a yellow line, while my cuffs and shackles were removed. The deputies left and the other officer ordered me to strip. I knew this was coming. I had been in this situation so many times before, but when the words were said it still gave me a shock. Just as it had the very first time I had experienced a strip search.

It was in my final week of my second year of college, and I had arranged to meet up with some of my buddies from the swimming team for an end of year drink. Now when I say swimming team, we were all pretty much on the reserve list. Neil as the freestyler was sometimes called into the relay, but the rest of us rarely made it to the main team. However, we trained as hard as the rest and over the previous two years had got to know each other pretty well.

I remember everything about that night so clearly. It was the night I first noticed how hot Eric had become. We were roommates back then and I recall him coming out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped round his middle, his upper body tight and the light catching the few drops of water that clung to his body. I just stood and stared as he walked into the room.

'What time are you going out?' he asked as he provocatively unwrapped his towel and started to dry his crotch. I'd seen Eric in a state of undress before but this time it was affecting my cock. He looked so horny.

'In about 30 minutes. Where are you off to?'

Eric was pulling on his boxer briefs before opening his closet to choose a shirt.

'Oh, it’s a faculty dinner. One of the professors is retiring and his students have all been invited along. Can't really say no, though I expect it will be pretty dull. I think you'll have a lot more fun with the guys.'

I stood there and watched him get dressed. Pale blue shirt, khaki chinos, and a maroon knitted tie. I was just in a tee, shorts and flip flops. No dressing up was required from me this evening.

'So is it just the usual guys tonight Robbie?’ he said as he put on his best brown Oxfords and tied the laces.

'Yeah, just Neil, Frank and Jacob'.

'Are Frank and Jacob still an item?'

''It's on one minute, off the next. You never know with those two'.

'Well have a great time. No doubt I'll be back before you,’ he said as he clapped me on the shoulder and walked towards the door. Damn, his ass looked good in those trousers.

I was on my way shortly afterwards, stopping off at the liquor store to get some whisky and vodka. These evenings usually ended up with way too much alcohol being consumed and a bad hangover the next day. We had been doing them at the end of every term since our first year and took turns in hosting. The last time was at my place and Eric joined us. He got totally plastered and fell asleep at about 11 o'clock. Nothing would wake him.

Neil opened the door and I found that Frank and Jacob were already there. The guys had started on the beers, but that wouldn't last long. We would soon be on the harder stuff. I took mine and sat down on the sofa. Frank was talking about one of the guys on the first team who had been caught by his girlfriend in bed with his supposedly straight roommate. He had been dumped immediately and the girlfriend had been telling anyone on campus who would listen what she'd seen. He was a dick anyway and often making fun of the gay swimmers. Seemed like just deserts.

About a couple of hours later Neil's roommate Barry turned up. I’d met him a couple of times before but didn’t really know him all that well, though Neil had told me that Barry could get you whatever you wanted. Barry was supposed to be staying the night with his girlfriend, but her parents had showed up unexpectedly and he had to return home. By this time, we were all pretty drunk, but Barry had acquired some weed on his way home. Neil fixed him a drink while Barry started to roll a couple of joints to pass round. Soon the air was thick with smoke and smell and the mood was mellow.

The banging on the door came like a jolt. We were all a bit out of it, so it didn't register at first, but then it came again.

'Open up, this is the Police!'

Neil staggered to his feet and made his way towards the door. He was a tall guy, typical swimmer’s build as were Jacob and Frank, but Neil was blond and although I don't usually go for blonds, I did once make an exception with Neil after a similar evening about six months before. Neil, now shirtless, was giggling as he opened the door to find two well-built cops in their dark blue uniforms. The first was about the same height as Neil, with piercing blue eyes, the second a little shorter and had more of a tan. Both of them were clearly gym bunnies, their muscles barely constrained by their shirts. It was the shorter of the two who spoke first.

'We've had reports of a disturbance at this address, loud noise and banging, may we come in?'

'Disturbance! who the hell said there was a disturbance’, Neil replied, before bursting into laughter.

But the two cops were now entering the apartment, shutting the door behind them. Neil was walking backwards into the room, still giggling but also trying to remonstrate with the cops. Barry at least had the presence of mind to snatch one of the joints from Frank and throw it through an open window, but as the cops came in the bag of weed was still in the middle of the floor and Jacob still had the other joint in his hand.

'Well what do we have here?’ the taller cop asked. 'Anyone want to admit to supplying the weed?'

We all sat there not saying a word. The giggles had dried up now, we knew we were in the shit. I know it was Barry who had brought the stuff, but no one was going to let him take the blame, we were all in it together.

'Well if no one is going to admit to it then you'll all be going downtown'.

Barry made a move as if he was going to own up, but Jacob jumped in first.

'Well you'll have to take us all then, officer. You sure you got room in the car?'

We all started laughing again, but the cops got more serious.

'Oh we got plenty of room for you guys. Okay, get up. Hands against the wall!

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 2

It was our last year in high school and a group of us had decided we would head on down to Florida for spring break. Initially there were seven of us - Todd, Andy, Jerome, Eric and me plus two girls who hung around with Andy and Jerome. However, despite the fact that we were all 18 the parents of the two girls put a stop to them coming when they found out what was planned. That was fine with me. They were nice enough but by now I just wanted to see guys in their shorts on the beach. Andy and Jerome were strictly heterosexual, on the school football team and always the guys the girls wanted to be seen with. Todd, well I did wonder about his sexuality. Nothing obvious, but I thought he might be curious. I guess we were an odd group, neither Eric nor I was much into football, but Todd was the link; he was on the football team and was also on the swimming team with me. Eric was no swimmer, but he used to help out with the timings or whatever. At the time I wasn't out, but I think most people at school knew which side I played for. Not so sure they knew about Eric back then, though, unless they knew about his crush on me.

So the five of us guys headed on down there, arriving on the first weekend. We spent the first few days on the beach and in the bars. We all had fake IDs, which would satisfy the bar staff, but wouldn't pass any real checking by the cops. We had been warned that there was a clampdown on drinking, but we didn't go over the top. None of us ended up being the worse for wear. We just chilled out on the beach with a few beers and gate crashed as many parties as we could.

It was about three or four days into the trip when it happened. I seem to remember it was a blisteringly hot day and we had run out of sun block. Eric headed back to the hotel to get some more because he and Todd were getting increasingly red. Not long after, the beach cops drove by on their carts. They stopped about ten yards away and got off and started to walk about among the crowds of people. We had already dug a hole in the sand where we stored the beers and placed a bag over it, but there were still a couple of cans of Bud visible on the beach towels. We looked at each other wondering whether we should try to hide them or whether doing so would draw attention to us. All of a sudden cops seemed to converge from every direction.

'You guys all over 21?' one of them asked.

'Yes Sir' we all replied in unison.

'Y'all got some IDs on you? the second cop asked.

We started to undo our bags and our wallets and pull out our IDs and hand them over, while the first cop lifted up the bag covering the beers in the hole in the sand.

'Looks like you got yourself enough for a good party' he said

Meanwhile the second cop was going through the IDs.

'So which of you is gonna come clean first? I'm willing to bet my month's salary that these aren't genuine. I've seen some good fake IDs in my time, and these don't come close. Better you come clean right now boys, or it will be worse when you get to court'.

It was Jerome who broke first. I remember thinking he would be such a shit poker player. It looked like he was going to burst into tears, he just started to blurt everything out. The rest of us didn't have a leg to stand on, so we all came clean as well.

'Well thank you boys for coming clean, but I'm gonna have to take y'all in, do you understand?'

He told us each to get up one by one and the two cops cuffed our hands behind our backs, reading us our rights as they did so. I had never been handcuffed before, but the sensation of it made me go hard instantly. And when I saw the other guys all with their hands cuffed behind their backs, that only made it worse. All three of them were pretty hot, Andy in particular. I just hoped no one else could see my boner. I couldn't even look down to check it out.

A Jeep arrived, driven by another cop. There was only room for two of us inside, so it had to make two runs. Todd and Jerome went first, while Andy and I stood on the beach handcuffed with hundreds of people just staring at us. The Jeep returned shortly after and I remember as I was climbing into the back that I caught a glimpse of Eric, who had just returned from the hotel. He wisely didn't identify himself; he just stood there and watched. One of the cops slammed the door shut and got in the front seat and drove off. I remember it was uncomfortable sitting with my hands cuffed behind my back, but my dick was still rock hard. I looked over at Andy, he looked so hot just sitting there.

It was only a very short journey, no more than a few minutes. The Jeep pulled off the beach and into a clearing where there was a bus and several cops. We were helped out of the back, just in time to see Todd and Jerome having their handcuffs removed and a set of chains applied. They seemed to consist of a pair of handcuffs connected by a long chain to a set of shackles. The handcuffs went on first, this time in front, and then the prisoners lifted up their bare feet to have the shackles clamped round their ankles. Once they were fully chained up they were escorted onto the bus. Then it was our turn. The handcuffs were removed from behind our backs and given back to the beach cop, the chains were applied to our hands and we lifted up our bare feet to have the shackles applied to our ankles. This did nothing to bring my boner down. We clambered on to the bus, not easy when your feet are chained together, and found that there were about a dozen other guys all in the same predicament - cuffed and shackled, wearing nothing but their shorts.

We waited on the bus for about an hour before it drove off. During that time another six or eight guys were brought onboard. Some seemed to be mortified, others seemed to revel in it, like a badge of honour. The bus trip to the county jail didn't take all that long. Once we arrived we were ordered off and led inside where we were immediately put into what seemed like a giant pen. One by one we were each called out and taken to be processed. The cuffs and shackles were removed and we were given jail clothes to put on, a bright orange jumpsuit with white t-shirt, white boxers and orange plastic slides. We were then allowed to go into a cubical to change out of our shorts and put on the jail gear.

After we had changed we were taken to have our fingerprints and photograph taken. Some of the guys tried to make funny poses for their mugshots, but the deputy on duty soon made sure they knew this was no laughing matter. After the photos it was time to collect our mattress and some toiletries before being escorted to our cells. I ended up sharing with Andy, much to my delight. We entered the cell and the door slammed, making such a noise that it made us both jump. Todd and Jerome were also together but were a few cells down from us. I took the bottom bunk and Andy the top one.

At least with Andy on the top bunk he wouldn't see my boner, which was not constrained at all by either the boxers or the jumpsuit. We chatted a while and joked about how the holiday had not turned out as we had expected and we both talked about the hell we would get from our respective fathers when we got home. Without a word of warning he jumped down from the top bunk and pulled his jumpsuit down to show his own dick at full attention sticking out of his boxer shorts.

'Those cuffs really made me horny, Robbie. You wanna suck it? I know you do'.

I didn't quite know what to say. Was this a real offer or was he going to humiliate me if I went towards it? After all Andy had shown no gay signs at all, but you could never tell. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I was willing to risk humiliation. I bent forward and took it all in my mouth. It was oozing precum and it was not long before I felt the warm sticky liquid fill my mouth. He seemed to enjoy himself in a way I had never expected. He surprised me again by starting to undo the poppers on my own jumpsuit and sliding my dick out of my boxers. He took it in his mouth and sucked on it hard. It did not take me long to cum; there was no way I could control it for long and he seemed to lap it up.

We both came again twice that night, but in the morning he looked down from his top bunk and said:

'What happened in this cell stays in this cell. I never want to talk about it again, do you understand?'

Later that morning we were transported to court in the same full set of chains that we were brought into jail wearing. Eric was sitting in the court when we went in. He gave us a thumbs up as if to say that everything is all right. I had a feeling Eric would sort something out. Organising things was what he was best at. Instead of the public defender representing us we had a lawyer engaged by Eric's dad. He was a lawyer himself and had phoned up a firm they had dealings with in Florida. It was apparently a favour to be called in. The lawyer managed to get all charges dropped. I'm not quite sure how he did that, legal loopholes presumably.

By the afternoon we were back on the beach, though this time with no alcohol. Eric was the hero of the hour and the rest of the week remained uneventful. When we got home my drunken father beat the shit out of me; it's what finally drove my mother away. Andy's reckoning with his dad was just verbal. I never did tell anyone what happened in the cell that night.

To be continued…

My Friend Eric

Part 1

I locked my apartment door for the final time and bent down to pick up the final box to be taken to the car. There were just three boxes in all, which now contained everything that had been my life. The rest of it had been sold and the apartment would soon be gone too in order to pay my legal fees. I walked down the corridor for the last time and then down the stairs where Ron, the doorman was waiting to say goodbye. I shook his hand and gave him $100. He thanked me profusely and looked at me with pity. I said nothing and I turned to walk out of the door. Outside Eric was putting the two other boxes into the trunk of the car. I looked over to him and wondered how this once scrawny looking teenager had turned into such a hot guy. And it virtually happened without me even noticing. He walked towards me to take the other box. He was wearing a charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt with navy tie, and tasselled loafers with black socks on his feet. His thick head of dark brown hair now had flecks of grey, but this only added to his attractiveness. Oh, why had I not seen it before? Maybe things would have turned out differently.

Eric and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. We met in the second year of high school, when his family moved to town. He was a small kid back then, though he is still only 5'9" now. But it wasn't just his height. He was just one of those kids that seemed small. I was much taller for my age, always have been, and even then, quite athletic, competing in the pool and track and field. I first got talking to him one evening when we were both in detention for something or other. Just the two of us and we had to clear the litter from the school field after it had been used for a football game, and the visiting team's supporters had left a load of garbage behind. I guess we hit it off right there, because Eric has been my best friend ever since. He's been the one to look out for me, especially after my parents divorced and my mom moved away and my dad’s drinking got worse. I don't speak to either of them now. Eric is pretty much all I have left. He took the final box from me, put it in the trunk and shut the tailgate.

'Thanks for taking care of this stuff for me'.

'It's not a problem, Robbie, and it will be here when you get out'.

'Whenever that may be'.

He hugged me, and that was the reassurance I needed to get through the next few hours and days. It was what he always did when I was in trouble, which was quite often. He was always the sensible one, helping me get out of scrapes and putting my life back together. He was hot for me back in high school. I knew that, but I had never been interested in him. Though looking at how he looked now, I shouldn't have been so dismissive. I wasn't openly gay, not until I got to College, though to be honest Eric has never really come out. He's dated men of course, but never really flaunted his sexuality, and no one has ever seemed to ask. I guess they just all knew.

'We'd better get going' he said.

He got in and sat behind the wheel and I walked around to the passenger door. I took a last look at my building and got in. He started up the engine and we drove off. It wasn't a long trip, just twenty minutes or so before we arrived at the court building. I knew there would be some media interest, but hoped that by getting there early it would be minimal. I was lucky. The local TV news reporters had only just arrived and had not properly set up their equipment as we walked up the steps of the building. They shouted questions at me, but I ignored them and kept on walking. Eric followed a few paces behind.

Once in the building we got ourselves some coffee, probably the last Cappuccino I'd have in a very long time, and found a corner to sit and await my lawyer. He turned up about thirty minutes later and ran through what would happen at the sentencing hearing.

'I just wish I could get it over with'. I said.

'I know, but the wheels of justice turn slowly. I just want you to be prepared for all possible outcomes. It will be a shock whatever the sentence'.

It was another hour before my lawyer told me it was time to go. I'd already been to the bathroom about half a dozen times, I was that nervous. As I stood up, Eric straightened my tie. He had carefully prepared my clothes for the day, even buying me a new shirt and tie the day before. I hadn’t even considered what I was going to wear, but he had said I had one final chance to make a good impression. He had even taken my suit trousers to be pressed and shined my best Oxford shoes to make me look the professional I once was for one final time.

We walked into the courtroom; it was packed. There were reporters and there were some of the people who had testified against me, together with other victims of 'my crimes'. I followed my lawyer to the desks at the front just opposite the Judge's bench. Eric sat in the front row immediately behind me. It was several more minutes before the bailiff called for us all to rise. A hush fell upon the court room and the judge, who had presided over my trial, walked in to take his seat.

The judge asked the prosecuting and defence counsels if they wished to make any final remarks. My lawyer got up and made what I thought at least was a compelling case for leniency. I hoped the judge would weigh that more heavily than the prosecutor's push for the most severe sentence available. Eventually the judge banged his gravel and asked for the defendant to rise. I stood and so did my lawyer. My heart was in my mouth.

'I have taken note of the statement made by your lawyer that you were not the lead person responsible for defrauding hundreds of people out of their savings. But you were a partner in the firm and as such you bear responsibility for what has happened. I have read statements of the victims and they detail clearly how your crimes have impacted upon them. What may have been a mere money-making exercise for you was devastating for them. Many will now lead significantly poorer lives from now on. I therefore sentence you to be incarcerated for thirty years to life in the state penitentiary. Bailiff, will you please take the defendant into custody'.

I turned to my lawyer. ‘Life! Did he just say life?'.

As I was speaking a cheer went up from a section of those watching the proceedings and at the same time I felt my hands being pulled behind me and handcuffs snapping round my wrists. The bailiff's strong hand was now on my arm guiding me out of the door to the side of the courtroom. I looked round at Eric, who was staring right back at me and before I knew anything else I was out of the court room, the door had shut behind me and the noise had gone, to be replaced by just the sound of shoes, mine and the bailiff’s, walking along a tiled floor.

It all happened so quickly, I was disorientated, but the words of the judge were still ringing in my ears. 'Thirty years to life'. I was expecting bad news, my lawyer thought I would be lucky to get less than ten and he thought probably fifteen, but life! We were moving through more doors now, each looking a little more secure than the last, before we entered the holding area. I knew what this place was, I had been here before. And I was heading straight to a holding cell. A small cage with just enough room to stand up in, while they figured out where I was being sent to. Sure enough the duty officer told the guy who still had a vice like grip on my arm to put me in number eight. We turned a corner and walked past other holding cells, some empty, others containing guys like me wearing a suit, who had just been sentenced. Others were in the black and white stripes of the county jail. They were the unlucky ones who hadn't got bail. But hey! I guessed my luck had just run out.

The bailiff opened the cell door and pushed me in. There was just a tiny, butt-sized bench to sit on, nothing more. The door slammed shut and I was in a cage, handcuffed and no longer in control of my life. I sat down and tried to calm myself, and it was then I noticed how hard I had become. Handcuffs usually did that to me. I remembered the first time I had experienced them nearly twenty years before.

To be continued…