Neanderthal

WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip-

tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature

persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally

receive adult materials or who are offended by them

should read no farther. Further distribution of this

story--and all others of this nature by this author--is

permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the

contents and author credit are unchanged.

NOTES:

1. Copyright (c) August 1999.

2. The persons and situations depicted in this story

are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual

persons or situations are completely unintentional and

coincidental.

1. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged;

send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com

1. This story may be copied for free distribution,

provided the author credit is retained.

1. This is a FANTASY. I'm really a nice person; I'm

nothing like the people I write about.

Neanderthal

by Pervitron

The phone interrupted the Knicks-Bulls game. "Reed has two

visitors." Shit, it was late in the third quarter, the game

was close, and I'd miss the end of the game, taking care of

Reed. I made up my mind to get back at him later, run him

up on some bullshit charges, get some of his yard time taken

away. Yeah, that's what I'd do.

Prisons are made of metal and sweat.

I banged my club on the bars. "Reed. Visitors." There was

movement in the bottom bunk. They were both there, Reed

and his latest punk. The last one was still in the

hospital; this one was a little smarter, or maybe he was

really just a pussy, because he did it without a beating.

He had his mouth on Reed's cock; when he heard me he stopped

moving, but kept it there. Not sure who he should be more

scared of: Reed, or me. A few days ago he was hot shit, a

young white boy, the big man in community college because he

had the fast car, the beeper, and a pocket full of white

powder. A real big man. The kid looked at me with dead

eyes. He'd think of Reed every day for the rest of his life.

Reed slid his thing out of his cellmate's mouth, and he

climbed up off the bunk. He stood in front of me, leaving

it hanging for a moment while he pulled his pants up. He

took his time, like he was showing it off - and who could

blame him? The rest of him was just as impressive, he was a

polished black mountain of a man, almost 6'8". Almost all

the men who pumped iron got bigger, their muscles grew so

big it was grotesque. The weight room was like a freak show.

But Reed didn't get any bigger - he just got harder. I had

seen him in the shower, he was built like a black steed, a

frightening combination of strength and quickness.

He followed the drill. When he got his clothes back together

he stood flush against the back wall of the cell while I

opened the door. He waited for me to stand off to the side

before he moved. Reed just sauntered out of the cage, he

turned in order to walk ahead of me down the corridor.

There was another guard down there, in case there was

trouble. I kept my distance; I had my hand on my club. I

knew I was in no danger, but I still felt wary. As he

turned he looked at me, he straightened up slightly as if to

showcase his height. I held his eyes for just a second, I

looked up at him, careful not to show any fear, even though

I felt my heart race. Christ! Just the thought of a night

in a locked cage with this guy gave me chills.

**

The visiting room was a large square room with metal tables

and chairs that amplified the noise. Lots of screaming

kids, and noisy, fevered talk. It seemed like visitors

tried to make the time pay by talking as quickly and they

can. There were two steel cage doors on opposite ends:

one for visitors, and one for us.

My mouth must have dropped clear to the floor when we got to

the door. I looked and I could tell immediately which ones

were there for him. It wasn't at all unusual for Reed to

have female visitors. He had quite a few, each of them would

come with a litter of kids. A baby in one arm, another in a

rickety stroller, and always a couple of scrappy little

brats - they'd scurry around the room like mice. He must

have had a dozen kids, you wondered if these women knew

about each other. Or cared. And there were other women

that Reed didn't even know. They were what we call prison

sluts, trashy girls who got off on visiting prisoners, they

liked to flash their asses at dangerous men, keeping their

pretty little stuff just out of reach. And that was what

we had today.

But these girls were no more than fifteen!

I was fuckin' amazed, first at how young they were, and then

by the attitude. I could tell that both of them went to

the private school over on the nice side of town - they had

that look about them. You know, kids with money that think

they're bad. The boys tool around in brand new cars,

gangsta rap shaking the windows around them. Skid marks and

the smell of burning rubber. And I guess this is what the

girls do, they take daddy's credit card to the mall, and

strut around like sluts. They put out. And play with fire.

One of them was dressed like a biker chick. She was sitting

backwards on the chair, her forearms were resting on the

back of the chair that rose up between her legs. She wore

a baseball cap backwards, and one of her eyebrows was

pierced with a half dozen tin rings. She had fiery black

eyes; She was wearing a Metallica tank top that hugged her

chest tightly. She was dark, probably Spanish or Italian,

her skin had the warm color of brown leather. This girl was

a handful, no doubt, but for all her hardness she was

definitely worth it - she had an almost frightening beauty.

She had a great body. Yeah, she could kick ass. She wore

purple spandex workout pants that ended just above her knee,

and a pair of black, high-top sneakers completed the

picture. She must have had 5 pounds of cheap jewelry on, a

mane of silver and tin necklaces hung loosely around her

neck. One for each blow job, no doubt.

The other girl had the "nice girl gone bad" look. She had

her hair done like she was going to the prom; long blond

hair with dark streaks, and she must have spent hours

crimping it into a thousand tight curls that framed her

face. Her features were soft, with blue eyes the color of

fine china, a tiny upturned nose, and soft lips that would

dimple if she smiled. Which she didn't. No, she was

scared - she really didn't want to do this. Biker girl ate

this up. She beamed at Reed when she saw him, but this

other girl just froze at the sight of him. My guess was that

Biker girl put her up to it - she was doing this on a dare.

They probably stopped at the mall on the way over. I could

see Biker girl picking out the dress she was wearing, a

tight red tube dress that hugged the thin curves of her

torso. Yeah, I looked at them and figured there was some

kind of dyke thing going on: Biker holding the dress up

against her little princess. "C'mon, you'll be hot." The

two of them back in the changing room, those thin corral

doors, maybe some heavy breathing. Well, Biker had good

taste in boy toys - her friend had one fine body. She was

a shy one too, she sat there with her arms and legs crossed,

but still, you noticed. Her waist was thin. The tube dress

was so tight I could see her belly button. She had tiny

little girl tits, and they were so firm, so round, like ripe

apples. Just a whiff of her would give you a hardon. And

somehow I knew, even though she was sitting, that her ass

had to be absolutely perfect. She looked that good.

Reed liked what he saw. I left him standing in the doorway,

and moved over against the side wall and stood there with

two other guards. We talked among ourselves; we could see

what was going down. We were also wondering which of us was

screening visitors today, figuring he must have gotten some

head for letting these two in. No way they'd get in

otherwise.

Reed took it all in stride. Mr. Cool: "My, what a pair of

angels to brighten up my day!" He dug this, people stopped

what they were saying and looked over at him and his

visitors. The girls moved their chair aside so Reed could

sit between them, making room for the big man. Read scraped

a chair on the floor, he dragged it over between them and

sat down. Way down - the chair was too small for him, his

knees were angled up, level with the girls' shoulders. He

reached his long arms around their shoulders. Biker

snuggled right up to him, princess needed a little pull, but

she came, she wouldn't fight. Reed smiled at me, as if to

say: "See, you may think I'm dirt, but your women, they love

me."

I stood there with the other guards. We were all middle

aged, a bit thick in the waist, and a roll in the hay from

our wives was about all the excitement we got. Every once

in a while we'd get a blow job from a visitor, payment for

some extra, "private" time in the side room next to us.

But we got it as payment, we sure didn't have young girls

serving it up the way Reed did.

Biker girl had done this before. She laid her head back on

Reed's shoulder and started to rub her hand against his

inner thigh. Even across the room I could see the effect it

had on him. It didn't matter that he'd gotten head just ten

minutes before, he was always ready for more. Especially

from a fine young thing like this. She was looking up at

him, watching his reaction as she moved her hands onto his

crotch. He started talking to her, he said something to

the dressy one too, as if to invite her in. She smiled back

at him, but I could see it was still forced. She was

uncertain, and scared; she kept looking around, checking to

see if anyone was watching them. She was in over her head -

she thought she'd would just kid around, just put on her

shimmy dress just and tease a guy. Maybe a sort of lap

dance, whatever that was. Yeah, it might even be fun. She

never thought it would go so far.

But nothing would stop it. The biker continued to rub Reed,

and when she knew he was ready, she reached her hand down

into his loose pants and pulled him free. I had seen him

before, so I knew how big he was, but the girls hadn't. No

way they'd seen anyone hung like this. The Biker looked up

at Reed with a leering smile, reaching for him at the same

time. The other one was slower to react: she just stared

at the thing, I could see her eyes dancing along the shaft.

She wasn't looking around the room anymore - she was

transfixed.

I knew what he was like. He was here for a reason. Every

man in this room deserved to be here. Reed was one of the

worst, he had beaten three men to death; a few weeks ago in

the yard he almost got a fourth - it took three guards to

subdue him, and the man he was kicking was still in

traction. But as much as I hated him, there was quite a bit

of envy. The way they looked at him, the mixture of fear and

delight. Yes, I wish I was hung like that.

The dark girl bent down and took him in her mouth. There was

something so raw, so primitive in the sight of this young

girl giving head. I was right, this wasn't exactly her

debut. Yeah, she liked big men, and she knew the place to

come to find them. The way she stretched her lips as wide as

she could, opening wide to get as much as she could in her

mouth. He wasn't even halfway in, but I could see the strain

in her throat, the way she fought to control her gag reflex.

Reed lifted his head and looked over at us. It was a

proud, defiant look. See, you can put me in chains, but

your women will still find me.

The feeling in the room changed. It happened every time.

One minute the crowd of visitors would be normal, each of

the prisoners would be talking to his wife or his mom. No,

not talking, really just listening. There'd be picture

albums and school report cards; there would be stick figures

drawn with crayons, and kids would climb all over their dads

like they were climbing in a tree. You'd think this was for

the men, but after a few minutes they'd be all glassy eyed,

checking the clock, bored really. And then it would start,

some young mom would see the look on her man's face. She'd

shoo the kids away. A moment later she'd have her head down

on his lap, moving slowly up and down, and daddy would feel

like a man again.

Once the first blow job started the whole tone of the room

would change. Conversations would continue, but they were

forced now. The wives and mothers continued to talk to men,

as if THAT wasn't happening. Everyone tried to ignore it,

while shooting quick, furtive glances at what was happening.

Grandmas would give a single look and then recoil slightly -

they'd talk even more, as if they were protecting themselves

with words. And the kids noticed. In fact that was they

only thing that slowed the little boys down, they'd stop

running around, the punching and the karate kicking would

stop, and they'd scamper under the tables and watch. I'd

see the small eyes in the darkness under there. No matter

how old a boy is, he knows what feels good.

So this was nothing new. The biker girl was getting into it

now, she was licking her tongue all along him, from his

balls all the way up to his crown, taking her time, drawing

it out while she looked up and watched him smile. There

were two other blow jobs going on. In the far corner, JJ, an

18 year old gangbanger had some coke whore down on her

knees. She had to be about 45, and she was sickly thin,

drugs had eaten her away inside, all that was left of her

were bones and stretched, dry skin. But she still had her

lips, big wet lips that were made for this, they were soft

enough, and slow enough to get all she really wanted from

men. And there, right in front of us, not caring that there

were three guards watching, was another couple. We knew

this one well: this was the one with no panties on under her

dress, so when she really got going she could climb on his

lap and slow fuck.

Biker was still going at it. An older white couple

appeared at the visitor door, they scanned the room quickly,

and they started walking towards the only table that was

available: the one next to Reed. The woman lead the way,

she had angular, birdlike features and grey hair, and while

she kept her eyes lowered, she walked upright, determined to

keep her dignity. Her husband shuffled behind her, with his

hands in his pockets. They were struck several times in

transit by kids that smashed into their legs like billiard

balls. They kept moving with their eyes down; this was a

march through Purgatory. When they came to the table they

pulled the chairs out, and sat down, doing this silently, as

if they wanted to remain invisible. They sat and looked at

each other. Don't look around. But there was no ignoring

what was happening. You could close your eyes and smell

it: the sex. The room was full of sweat and dry semen, like

an all-male theater. She saw what was happening, she looked

quickly at Reed and his angels, and her eyes danced like

they were on fire. She looked away, she looked down at her

hands, and she kept her eyes there, afraid of what else

might be going on in the room. Her husband saw it too -

except that he looked a bit longer at first, and he kept

looking back. Definitely some mixed feelings there. Yeah,

I knew who they were. Their son was Reed's new punk.

Reed was just about ready now. He was back inside Biker's

mouth, she had settled into the right rhythm, she could tell

from his breath the type of lick that he liked. She was

working him in and out with a slow, constant pace. Princess

was all eyes. Reed turned and looked at her, Princess

looked up from his cock. He took his hand off her

shoulder, he brought it up to her face, and ran it though

the blond curls of her hair. He said something to her while

he rubbed the light tips of his fingers on her face. So

gentle. Jesus! Suddenly I realized how hard I was, for all

the open, raw sex that was happening all around me, the soft

trace of his long, sensuous fingers on her cheek was the

sexiest thing I had ever seen.

Reed reached his hand down and pulled Biker off his cock.

He was like a kid, sampling different candies. Princess

went down slow, there was no doubt in my mind that she had

never given head before. She hesitated, her mouth just an

inch or so from the huge thing, it was slick and wet with

saliva and cum. I wasn't sure she'd do it, the thing looked

almost evil, like a Cobra, and there was a slight look of

revulsion on her face. Biker leaned over and said

something, she whispered in her girlfriend's ear. Whatever

it was, Princess opened her mouth, she opened it as wide as

she could, and she went down on him. I thought I'd burst

in my pants, the voices in the room faded away from my

awareness, so rapt was I at this mystery.

Jesus! He was in her like an oak tree, he reached his hand

into her hair, and made her take even more. He didn't have

to push hard, after just a second of this, I could see she

liked it. The thrill of this intimacy with a man. A real

man. She'd compare every other man in her life with Reed;

this was a feeling she could never recapture. She had her

mouth full, and she swiveled her eyes to look at Biker.

See, I can do it. Reed let his head rest back, he was

going to let go now. Biker noticed this, she whispered in

Princess's ear, and she slowed a bit. They were like

divers, communicating with their eyes. Don't rush now.

Slow. He took a deep breath, I could see the surprise in

her eyes, they clenched tight for a second. And then his

seed came running out the sides of her mouth, dripping onto

his balls.

I was back now, they were done. The voices in the room

returned, I felt like I was surfacing from a deep ocean.

JJ was still in the corner - he'd be there for at least an

hour. The older man and woman at the next table were still

waiting for their son. I looked at the other guards, but we

said nothing. We each had our own thoughts. I looked up in

the corner, at the camera, thinking about the running tape.

**

They walked out like a couple of hellraisers. Biker and

Princess stomped over to the exit like a couple of Vegas

showgirls. They could do anything they wanted; they knew

we lived in a world without rules. I walked over to Reed,

he stood up from the table and looked at me. That look

again.

He started back towards the other exit. Just as he turned,

his punk came through the door. He saw Reed, mom, and dad

at the same instant. A frightful tableau that tore him wide

open. His face started twitching. "Hey, my main man!" Reed

boomed it out, he was grinning, his white eyes were gleeful,

and he reached down and rubbed the kids hair playfully as he

walked by. The kid looked at his mom and dad. Mom had

never taken her eyes off her hands.

**

My heart was racing wildly all the way back. I was alone,

there was no guard ahead of us now. He could turn on me and

kill me. With his size, just a few quick punches. He just

walked ahead, back to the cage, swinging his big shoulders,

rocking them from side to side in a sort of swagger.

The cell door was open. He entered and stood against the

back wall. The drill. I looked down the corridor. I

looked both ways and walked over to the cell door. I could

hear faraway voices, the shouts of cursing men echoing off

the steel bars, but there was no one about. I took a deep

breath, I pulled the prison air into me, the smell of men,

hard men, men too wild for my world outside.

He knew I would do it. Even before I went over and sat on

the bunk, he had it out again. Fuck! What a cock Reed

had! I loved the look of it, such animal power. He came

over to me, and I opened wide. Yes, it was back, the

hardness, and that glorious odor. I was hard myself, I

knew my seed was leaking out of me as I did this. He was

all the way back in by throat, he had a shock of my hair in

his big hand, and he was pulling slightly, letting me know

he could hurt me, and this only added to my excitement.

So I reached behind him, I loved to feel his ass, the

tightness of it as he pushes into my mouth. He does this

for a few minutes, just fucking me, pushing any way he wants

to, until he draws back and pulls his thing out. He holds it

an inch in front of my face, he likes to watch as he dumps

all over me.

**

I can't help it. I've been doing this for years, and I'm not

the only guard that does. Even at night we think of them,

when I fuck my wife I imagine I'm one of them.

And she does too. She never says it, but I see her looking

at them, watching them.

The coiled sexuality of these men is just too intense.

Prison only buys us time, it makes it harder for women to

get to them. But they will win, men will someday all be

black, we'll all be as strong, as virile as these men are.

You can see it in every prizefight, and its only a matter of

time before the universities and the professions show the

same pattern. Power flows from the balls - virility leads

inevitably to hegemony, to dominance in all things. This

has happened before. There were epochs in the past when

humanity changed, when there was more than one type of human

living at the same time. Homo Sapiens Neanderthal, and Homo

Sapiens Sapiens.

And now we are the Neanderthal, we look with awe at the new

ones, the Men who will one day rule over us.

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I'd love to hear from you, no matter what you thought of

my story. Comments and story ideas are welcome at:

Pervitron@Hotmail.com

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