Do not read further if you are not of legal age in your country. All the usual disclaimers and copyright assertions apply. See the first installment for a complete version of the Author's Note.
DOING HARD TIME
~ Chapter 6 ~
From the Narrative of Caleb Fisher:
I didn't know what to say when Harrison concluded his story. When I'd first laid eyes on him, I'd doubted that he could have committed the crime he was accused of. Even knowing that the jury had already convicted him, it was impossible to imagine Harrison brutalizing anyone.
I know I should have doubted his version of events. I wouldn't have been the first. Yet for some reason I was drawn to believe him.
"Harry . I'm sorry I overreacted just now. It's just that . I thought what if it had been Joshua in that guy's position ."
Harrison looked up, horrified. "I would never have physically hurt Josh. I didn't mean to hurt him at all . but I was scared, like you said." He sniffed. "I deserve to be stuck in here."
"No." I said it so vehemently that he looked at me in surprise. "Harry, you don't deserve to be in here for a crime you didn't commit. Michael and his friends should be the ones in here."
"I hit that guy too, Caleb. Not hard enough to cause any serious damage. But I stood by letting them beat him unconscious. I should've done something, and I didn't." He put his head in his hands and started crying.
"You stayed behind . to help him. Your friends just ran off. You could be proud of that."
Harrison smiled bitterly. "My friends - that's what I thought they were. But you know what Melissa told me, after I'd been arrested? I wouldn't get a harsh sentence. My dad would be able to use his influence to get me a lighter one. So I should stick to her brother's version of events. She never loved me - just my dad's money and political clout. And her brother Michael was the same."
I felt sorry for him. He'd made the wrong decision in friends and it had come back to stab him in the back in the worst possible way.
"Didn't you tell all this in court? Surely they didn't just believe whatever Michael said."
Again he smiled a bitter smile. "It wasn't just Michael. There were his four friends - they supported his version, of course. The bartender who reported the fight to the police only saw the beginning of it - me punching Dean in the face. And the patrol officer who responded to the call found me with blood on my hands. Even if Dean wasn't in a coma, I'm not sure he would have helped exonerate me, after what I did."
I saw the hopelessness of it. It was an open-and-shut case. Small wonder it had taken the jury such a short time to come up with a guilty verdict and a recommendation for the maximum sentence. "Okay, but how come your father didn't do anything? I mean, he is a congressman."
Harrison laughed hollowly. "You didn't read the statement his office made, did you?" I shook my head. Harrison quoted, "I am deeply saddened and shocked that a bigot could have been raised in my household. Somewhere along the line, something went wrong."
He paused and added, "He effectively disowned me. He has a re-election coming up and couldn't afford to lose his gay- friendly voters."
I was shocked that a father could do such a thing to his own son. Did he really expect to win over votes that way? I wouldn't have voted for him; but then, I knew something the voting populace didn't - Harrison Ridgeway IV wasn't the guilty one.
"What about your mother?" I asked.
Harrison's face visibly brightened. "Mom's always been a dear. She, and my sister Phoebe, were among the few people who refused to believe that I was guilty, even though I never told them the whole story." Then his expression darkened. "They had to sedate her when she heard about the sentence. I brought that upon her. More than anything, I blame myself for putting her through the strain of the trial."
I saw that he was upset. He was obviously very close to his mother. But I knew there was something I had to say. "Your mom and sister weren't the only ones who believed in your innocence, Harry. Joshua did too. He told me there was no way you would have done that."
He looked at me, his blue eyes glistening with tears. "Why does he, when so many others don't? Especially after what I did to him."
"He loves you," I said simply. He told me that you were his first crush, and one that would stay with him forever, even if you can't reciprocate his love."
Harrison looked ashamed. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that I treated Josh that way."
"You'll have the chance to tell him yourself," I told him. "When you get out of here."
Harrison said bitterly, "If I ever get out of here."
I put my arm around his shoulders. "I won't let anything happen to you - I promise. And you'll be out of here sooner than you think. I suggest you get some sleep now. We'll continue this tomorrow, or rather today."
"Okay," he said, and lay down on the bunk. Then he looked at me, shyly. I knew what he wanted. I lay down beside him. He put his head on my chest and snuggled next to me. He must have been tired out. Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep. I watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. It was a beautiful sight.
It was with a heavy heart I extricated myself from under him and went to my own bunk to catch some sleep before morning arrived.
From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:
When I awoke, the sunlight was just filtering through the tiny cell window.
"Rise and shine," said Caleb, who was already awake and dressed.
"Good morning." I smiled at him. For the first time since I'd come to prison, I had hope. I reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He looked surprised at first, but then he smiled.
The day passed in prison routine. I had little opportunity to talk to Caleb. There were various classes teaching living skills to the inmates. I was glad to see Mitch and the other inmates stayed their distance when they saw me with Caleb.
It was only when we had some time alone in the yard that Caleb told me the rest of the story. Josh's parents had died in a car crash almost two years ago. I hadn't known that because I was in university across the country. I had to control myself from crying again. One part of me mourned Uncle John and Aunt Carol, as I'd called Josh's parents. The other half felt strongly for Josh, who I knew would have been devastated by their deaths, especially since he had no siblings. I regretted not being there for Josh. And yet he was still there to help me out when I needed it most.
Caleb added that Josh had dropped out of college to run his father's hardware store. I knew it must have been a difficult decision for him to give up his dreams of becoming an architect. Josh was extremely talented in art.
Caleb was less restricted around me now that everything was out in the open. Truth be told, I was relieved too. It was a great load off my chest to share it with someone.
That night, after lights out, Caleb was standing at the window when I approached him. Silently I knelt down and reached for his pants. I felt his hand on my shoulder.
"Are you sure you want to? I'm not sure we should."
"Don't you want it?" I asked him. I knew he did want it.
"It's just that . I'm not sure."
I grinned in spite of myself. "I'm the one who should be unsure, and I no longer am. Now don't say another word." I pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion. Just seeing his cock made me get a hard-on. That was the final incontrovertible proof that I was completely and utterly gay. For some reason, this revelation didn't perturb me as much as it should have, considering I'd spent most of my life denying it. I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock whole.
This time around I could tell I was doing a better job. Caleb's moans of pleasure told me as much. I didn't know it was possible for the giver of a blowjob to derive as much enjoyment as I did. I liked making him moan. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement. Shit, it was Mitch, looking into our cell from across the passage. Could he see much, I wondered? It was quite dark. I couldn't stop now. I looked up at Caleb. He'd noticed our silent spectator as well.
"Let's give him a show, shall we?" he whispered. I nodded wordlessly as he increased the velocity of my face-fucking. He was close to an orgasm, I could tell. At the critical point, he pulled himself out of my mouth and sprayed my face with cum. There was an ample amount of it. Some of it streamed off my face and onto my bare chest.
I heard Mitch mutter, "Holy shit." Caleb knelt down and trailed a finger in his own cum coating my face. "Lick this up, bitch," he ordered, secretly winking at me. I was so turned on by this display for Mitch that my cock was straining hard against my boxers.
"Enjoyed the show, Mitch?" asked Caleb. I was amazed to see a hardened criminal like Mitch blush with embarrassment.
"Damn Caleb, I didn't know that bitch could do that. I almost regret giving him up to you."
"This bitch is mine," warned Caleb.
Mitch put up his hands in surrender. "You've pretty much proven that, man."
"He's gone back to sleep," Caleb whispered to me. I knew I was a sight to behold, with cum dripping down my face. He noticed my hard-on. "You need some help with that?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he had me on the bed, with my boxers around my ankles and his hand firmly pumping away at my cock. No one had ever jerked me off before.
He didn't have to do it for long; I was so horny by that time that I was cumming within minutes. Exhausted and spent, I lay on the bunk panting heavily. Caleb leaned over me to give me a kiss.
"You know, this isn't just for Josh. I like having you as my bitch," he grinned. Covered in cum as I was, I certainly felt like a bitch. But that didn't matter, because for the first time I was actually enjoying myself in here.
A week went by. There was little variation in our daily
prison routine, or our nightly rituals. Mitch turned out to be a voyeur who enjoyed watching me bring Caleb to a climax.
He never tried to lay a finger on me after that night. In
private, Caleb would return the favor.
It was on my eighth day of incarceration that I got my first
visit in prison. The guard led me to the room, warning me
that there could be no physical contact between us. I knew
that was going to be hard, when I saw the woman sitting at
the opposite side.
Her perfectly-coiffed red hair and immaculate dress looked completely out of place in that grim setting. Her blue eyes,
so like my own, filled with tears as soon as she saw me
approach, dressed in prison-issue clothing.
I picked up the phone and tried to get past the lump in my
throat.
"Hi, Mom."
To be continued .
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The last part (Part 7) to follow soon.