The next day, I’m enjoying a nice lie-down in my bunk, reading a newspaper. The other guys bring me anything I need, and I’ve allowed that old dog to resume his business under the stairwell.

Why not? I’m a nice guy. People need their drugs.

I’m wondering if any news can interest me when I see Bear wandering by.

“Hey there, old buddy! What you doing down here in the tough guys room?” I throw down the newspaper and move to the door.

“I just wanted to show my gratitude.” Bear is trying to smile wide, but his throat is still bruised, and he winces with each word and expression. He leans in, speaking quietly.

“I know you’re rich. I know you do good by your people. I’m real sorry I said something wrong, so I just wanted to made up for it.”

He presents me with a bottle of aged country brandy and an exquisitely worked crystal glass. He beams proudly, even though it must hurt around the bruises on his face.

“From my own private stock. The brandy was my granddaddy’s.”

I take a close look at the bottle. Aged brandy, a good century old.

“Thank you.” I look back at Bear. “Really. I appreciate this. Even with my resources, things like this are difficult to find. Especially in a hellhole like this.” I give him a big grin.

“Like I said, Mr. Covington, sir, just want to show my appreciation. If at any time you see fit to come through on the promises you made, I’ll be mighty happy about it. Now I better run along before they miss me upstairs.”

I wave my hand dismissively, still looking at the label on the brandy. I have a look at the nicely cut glass in the light. Benny shows up a few seconds later as I’m looking at the glass.

“How’s it hangin’, Benny?” I say absentmindedly.

“Good, boss. Everyone’s behaving themselves. You know we aren’t meant to have glass down here?”

“I think its fine, Benny. Hey! You!” I call out to a nearby guard. He looks over his shoulder at me. “Do you see any glass in here, pal?”

“No, sir, I do not. You continue going on about your business there, Mr. Covington.”

“See, Benny? There’s no glass anywhere here.”

Benny grins. “If you say so, boss. I got to let you know, I’m going on a parole hearing soon. Your lawyers will most likely get me out. Is that still the plan or…”

I sit down, pouring a drink of the beautiful brandy carefully. I put the bottle down and take a sip.

“Ah, you know what, Benny, that’s fine. I don’t think I need any more help in here at the moment. You got plenty of funds? My accountant fixed you up?”

Benny beams at me, skinny weasel face and greasy dark hair pulled into a ponytail, drawn by the force of his expression.

“Yes, sir. I got my old lady all fixed up, thanks to you. I’m gonna get out and take some time for myself. Have a bit of a blow-out with some whores and all. Maybe even treat my cousins.”

“Excellent, Benny, excellent. What were you working before you came in?”

“I was running territory downtown. It’s a dangerous spot, sir. We get picked up regular by cops and beaten by rival gangs.”

I sip the brandy carefully, savoring it.

“Maybe I’ll put you on one of my new projects. Let me think about it. You got some cousins who can run downtown?”

“Yes, sir!” Benny’s smile gets even bigger, “Thank you, sir!”

“No problem, Benny. Run along now.”

I sip the drink quietly for a few moments when I notice Lummox about to go downstairs.

“Hey! You there! Guard! Get him.” I point at Lummox who’s trying to slink away.

Fat fucker. Does he really think he can blend in?

The nearest guard brings him over, one hand on his stick.

“Lummox. I haven’t had a smoke yet today. What the fuck you doing? Didn’t you promise me those cigars your mom brought you?”

Lummox looks sadly at the floor. “She paid a lotta money for them, mister. I only get four to a pack.”

“Hand it over, Lummox, now.”

He looks at me forlornly, and all I have to do is snap my fingers and the guard pulls out his baton. Lummox pulls the small box out of his pocket.

“Thank you, Lummox. You’re dismissed.”

“Okay, sir.”

“Oh, and find Old Dog while you’re at it. I want to see that fucker. He owes me ten percent. Find out if anyone’s got biscuits or candy. I’m hungry.”

Lummox strides out, shoulders slumped. I stick a cigar between my teeth, lighting it with a match.

I call out as Lummox lumbers away. “And somebody find the fucking chessboard! I need something to do.”

I lie back on my saggy mattress, smoking the cigar with long, appreciative draws. I sip the aged brandy. Really, I have everything I need.

I wish I could just be floating on a cloud about how it went with Alison yesterday. My cock throbs just thinking about it.

And this is only the beginning. Wait until she gets hungry for it and knows what to expect—not just from me, but from her own body. I bet she’ll claw at me like a wild cat.

Ruling the prison is nice. I get to do what I want. No one messes with me.

But it is ridiculously boring. These people—supposedly the most savage and unlawful bunch of sorry asses around here—have been pitifully easy to dominate. I expected some violence, some resistance.

Maybe I’ll start a war or something. Get everyone throwing chairs around. I’d like that.

Trouble is, they would all make a pile of noise, do a few exciting, violent things, then sit down and whine about it.

It’s boring.

Alison’s not boring.

Even as her body opened like a flower in the sun, she struggled. She fought against herself. She didn’t want to…but she did want to…and finally, her hot pussy won. It beat her mind.

No. I did. I inflamed her so much, she became a thing of passion and desire.

I’m all tantalized, thinking this through. Will she be easier next time? Or harder?

Now that she knows what to expect, will she put up barriers? Maybe she’ll think of her own body as a traitor and work to control it.

I remember the sweet lips of her pussy. The taste. The way she gasped in surprise as my cock went deep into her.

That innocent, sweet, shocked look after I forced my cock down her throat. I’m going to come down that throat, someday soon. Those sweet lips are going to eat everything I can give, and she’s going to love it and beg for more.

I can’t wait to see how she responds to me next time we see each other.

If she will be soft like a lover. Hard like a doctor. Confused, caught between the two.

I can’t even begin to guess, and that’s what I love. I can’t possibly predict it.

The one thing I do know is that I’m right about us being connected. That kind of opening doesn’t just happen in a matter of minutes.

I feel the satisfied smile creeping over my face. She’s been thinking of me. She’s been wanting me.

That out-of-body connection I can feel is real, and she feels it, too.

So I can be fairly certain that even if she reacts coldly or tries to resist me, that it’s not her true desire.

Her true desire is to give herself to me. To let go, like she just did.

Is her body on fire right now? Replaying the soft kisses on her pussy, the driving hardness of my cock? Is she laying in bed at night, hot body aching, whispering my name?

I can’t help it. I laugh out loud as I clamp the end of the cigar between my teeth.

I notice a shadow in the door.

“Old Dog!” I call out. “Sorry, fella. I was off in my own little world. You got my ten percent?”

He nods, not speaking, and comes in. On the floor next to my bunk, he drops a small pile of contraband goods. Some smokes. Candy. Some booze.

A guard walks past and looks in on the way past. I give him a salute; he returns it with a nod. They don’t give a fuck what I’m doing.

Lummox trundles through the door. He has the chess board.

“Hey there, Old Dog. You want to play chess with me? Lummox here just doesn’t have the brain power.”

Old Dog shakes his head.

I sit up. Putting my new glass down carefully. “What?”

Old Dog looks up and scowls. “Sorry, Mister Covington. Of course I’ll play chess with you.”

“That’s more like it.”