A gay story: The Hole I woke before the morning call. I always do. I opened my eyes to the near complete darkness of the cell, the only light coming faint and amber through the small viewing grille in the heavy iron door, enough to paint dim outlines on the sparse furnishings; the small metal table bolted to the floor, the sink, the toilet, my bunk and the spare.
I was lucky to have the cell to myself. Well, unlucky to be there at all, but every cloud and all that shit. My last bunk mate, Stevens, had run afoul of the Cartel, trying to skim profits while dealing for them. They only found bits of him afterwards. Lucky for me, not so much for Stevens.
He was an okay guy to share with, as it goes. Always had outside food he was willing to share, and he was usually good humoured too, which counted for a lot in there, so I was sad to hear what had happened to him. Still, I didn’t miss his snoring.
The minutes seemed endless at that time of the morning as I waited for the lights and noise of the six a.m. call. Its felt like a guitar string being wound tighter and tighter, and you know its going to snap, you just don’t know when, and the anticipation pulls you into the moment and holds you there. That’s how I felt in the near dark and silent cell.
The call came, the klaxon sounding about the wing, echoing off the metal walls, and the cell lights blared to life, glaring from the ceiling like some watchful demon. I jumped at the sudden cacophony. I always do.
I got out of my bunk and stood by the door, waiting for the buzz-clunk of the lock release. The door swung open and I stepped outside, standing to attention in the hall by cell door. I glanced left at Cagney, the old guy who had the cell next to mine. He gave me a friendly nod before facing forward, and I did the same.
A pair of guards were strolling down the hall, checking that each prisoner had vacated their cell. Already big men, their body armour made them look unnaturally large, and I was sure that its purpose was as much to intimidate as to protect. They each carried a stun rifle which I knew from experience they were all too happy to use.
After checking all of the cells on the floor the guards signalled for us to fall in after them towards the hygiene chamber, a euphemistic description for the disinfectant shower we were all subject to each morning. We formed a line before stripping off our shorts, a guard collecting them in a metal box. Naked, we shuffled into the chamber, standing in rows against the walls, underneath the chrome shower heads. The chamber door closed and sealed before a buzz signalled the beginning of the cycle. I closed my eyes. I always do.
The spray, while not hot, still burnt. I counted to sixty in my head, one mississippi two mississippi….and wondered vaguely what a mississippi was. Maybe I knew once and had forgotten. I’d forgotten so much of my life before the Hole. At sixty the spray cut off and I wiped then opened my eyes.
There were seventeen men bunked on my floor, and we all stood there naked and blinking together, all feeling the same sting on our skin, the same rawness. There were robbers and dealers and murderers among them, but in that moment we were all the same animal, naked and afraid. I thought it was no wonder so many grew a hide of iron in that place.
The doors unsealed and opened and we made our way out. The same guard, by the name of Fellis, a real piece of work, now brought around a box of fresh shorts for us to wear, smirking at our humiliation at standing in line for something as basic as modesty. The shorts were all the clothing we were allowed, an attempt to stop contraband being moved around the prison. Not that it worked, of course. We put them on before being led to the canteen.
Breakfast was, to nobody’s surprise, a ration cake, vitamin supplements and water. We ate cheerlessly as the guards stalked between the rows of tables. I saw Fellis stop to talk quietly with Gartsa, an enforcer for the Cartel. Everyone knew that half the guards here were in the pocket of the Cartel, and it didn’t surprise me to learn that Fellis was one of them. Not that it was any of my business. I kept my head down and out of trouble. I swallowed the last of the ration cake, my mouth still dry even after washing it down with the water.
The second klaxon sounded, signalling the start of the work detail. I was on cleaning duty, which meant pushing a mop around the halls for the next ten hours. It was unnecessary, since sanitation bots scoured the place during lockdown each night, but then all of the work the inmates did there was pointless, just something to expend our time and energy on, something to further numb our minds. I was proceeding to the equipment store when I felt a heavy, gloved hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I looked up into the smug face of Fellis.
“Not you, Baxter.” He said, his deep voice sardonic. “You follow me.” He strode ahead along the hall and I quickly followed behind. He led me to a holding room near the guard station and told me to sit in one of the metal chairs. I complied silently and waited as he left the room. He returned a minute later accompanied by a young man dressed in the shorts of an inmate, though by the terrified look in his eyes I could tell that he hadn’t been one for long. He stood as close to the wall as he could, as if he wanted to climb inside of it, until Fellis shoved him into the centre of the room.
“Baxter, this is Kal.” Fellis looked the young man up and down, an unreadable expression on his face. “He’s your new bunkmate. You’re to show him how things work here.”
The young man looked at me, his eyes still white with fear. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, but it had no noticeable effect. I reflected that the smile was a lie anyway, the kid had every reason to be scared. The Hole was hard even on tough old cunts like me, but it would eat him alive if he wasn’t careful. He stank of fear, and there were predators in the Hole that would smell him a wing away.
At Fellis’ instruction I took Kal with me to begin the work detail. I made small talk as we went, pointing out useful places and where to avoid, telling him some about what life was like there. He was silent the whole time, his eyes darting around nervously, his shoulders hunched as of trying to make himself smaller. Not that he was big to begin with, being a little under the average height. He looked fit, in that lithe way street kids often are, and I was sure he could run like a rabbit at need, but that wouldn’t do him any good when there was nowhere to run to. I wondered why he’d been sent there, but that wasn’t a question you asked in the Hole. Perhaps he’d picked the wrong person’s pocket. He looked the sort.
We collected what we’d need for the day from the store and I led him to where we’d be working, a mostly unused hall in the south wing. The south wing had been part of the original prison, built a couple of centuries before. It was structurally sound, but two hundred years of technological advances had left it outdated, so that the cells were now used as storage for various bits of half broken machinery.
Kal seemed to emerge from his shell for the first time as he peered through the grilles in the cell doors at the sundry sanitation and security bots stacked inside in various states of disrepair, often pausing in his work to examine them.
“You a mechanic or something?” I asked, hoping to get an answer this time. He paused in what he was doing.
“I….I was….well, I was going the become one, like my dad.” His voice cracked as if that was the first thing he’d said in days, something I could believe. His expression turned dark, and I got the feeling I’d trodden close to a sore spot. I backed off, glad to have at least gotten a few words from him.
I continued my slow stream of small talk as the day passed, and while he stayed quiet I saw that Kal had relaxed a little, and by the time the klaxon called an end to the shift I was sure I saw a small smile on his lips.
We went to the canteen and Kal had the pleasure of trying his first ration cake. He grimaced as he chewed.
“They don’t get any better.” I told him, bouncing my own cake on the table top. “Trust me.”
The call came for lockdown, and Kal followed me to my…our cell.
“That one’s yours.” I said, pointing to the spare bunk. “You don’t snore, do you?” Kal looked at me, a hint of worry creeping back.
“N…no…I don’t think so.” He sounded apologetic so I smiled.
“That’s good. My last bunkmate was like an elephant with a stuffed trunk.” Kal managed another small smile before sitting on his bunk, eyes on the ground.
I lay on my own bunk and pulled a battered paperback from a small drawer set underneath the bunk and, finding my place, I started reading. It was some cheap romance story, not what I’d usually read given the choice, but the library wasn’t exactly extensive so I made do. The hero was about to rescue the girl from the villian when Kal spoke again.
“How….how long have you been here?” I put the book down and looked at Kal for a moment. He was watching me closely. I sighed.
“22 years and counting.” His eyes widened at that and he gasped.
“That’s…that’s longer than…”
“Longer than you’ve been alive?” I said, raising an eyebrow. He blushed but also smiled, properly this time.
“Well….yeah.” He said. I smiled back at him, but inside it was hitting me again how much of my life had been wasted in this place.
Our chat continued after that, burning the time until lights out, and I learned a little more about him. As I’d guessed he’d been a street kid in the City, parents out of the picture. Petty crime leading to not so petty crime leading to the Hole. A story I’d seen play out countless times those past 22 years, and one I knew all too intimately myself. Indeed I saw some of myself, of who I once was, reflected back at me as I watched Kal climb into his bunk and turn towards the wall. The cell went dark but for that soft amber light. It painted outlines on the sparse furnishings, the sink, the toilet, the bolted table, the bunks, and now Kal.
I closed my eyes and groped towards my dreams, but a sound distracted me. Softly, barely more than a whisper, Kal was sobbing.
*******
I woke up before the morning call. I always do. The usual silence was broken by Kal’s soft breathing. It’s strange the things that you don’t know you’ve missed until they are there again. I lay there in the dark and listened to them, feeling that animal comfort that simple proximity brings, and I thought again of Stevens and what had happened to him.
Kal stirred, the blanket falling from his torso, baring his slender body, snaked with sinewy muscles, a tender outline in the quarter light. I felt my dick stiffen and told myself it was morning wood, though I knew it wasn’t.
The klaxon sounded and the lights went up and Kal nearly fell out of bed as he was shaken from whatever dream he’d been in. I couldn’t help but chuckle as he sat up, bleary eyed, hands over his ears. The call ended and I got up from my bunk, adjusting my shorts to hide my semi as best I could. Nonetheless I saw Kal glance there before looking away embarrassed. He’d have to get used to it, I thought. That, and a lot more besides. There was no privacy in the Hole.
I stood by the door and Kal followed me through the morning routine. He was still quiet and nervous as hell, but I couldn’t blame him. During the shower and then in the canteen I saw he was getting a lot of looks from the other inmates. Most were just the curious looks any new inmate gets, but more than a few came from guys I knew to be bad news. I saw Gartsa, the Cartel thug, glancing towards Kal as he chatted with Fellis. While the Cartel mostly dealt in contraband goods, it wasn’t above prostitution, willing or not, and a fresh kid like Kal was just their type. Perhaps it was because he reminded me so much of myself, but I’d already started to feel a little protective of him. I leant towards him across the table.
“Listen, kid.” I spoke quietly. “I like you, and I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you…”. He looked back at me, worried. “But you need to toughen up and smarten up if you’re gonna survive in here.” I looked back to Gartsa who was still watching us. Kal started to turn to see what I was looking at. “Don’t look.” I told him and he froze.
“What…what do you mean?” His voice was stiff. “What could happen?” I sighed, deciding how best to warn the kid without scaring him witless.
“There are people here who would….exploit you. Given the chance.” I fixed him with a serious look. “Don’t give them that chance.”
Kal seemed to shrink again, and I felt bad for telling him a difficult truth, but better he leant this way than the other.
“Will….Will you help me?” His eyes were a child’s, a street kid on a corner, begging for scraps. I searched those eyes and saw myself again. I nodded.
“I will.” I said, and took a bite of the cake.
Later, as we continued our work in the south wing, I told Kal more about the workings of the Hole, not just the rules, routines and procedures, but also the web of alliances and gangs that made up the internal politics of the place.
“The Cartel pretty much runs things these days.” I said as we idly ran our mops over clean floors, if anything making them worse. “Most of the gangs work either with them or for them, and they say even the Governor takes kick backs from them to turn a blind eye.”
Kal listened attentively, asking questions now and then.
“You mentioned….bad things that could happen to me.” He looked at me and I saw a hard glint in his eye, daring me to coddle him. I relented and told him a story.
“Janson was like you, about your age.” I recalled the kid who had been celled with Gartsa about five years before. “The Cartel promised him protection, for a price.” Yeah, and what a price, I thought.
“What happened to him?” Kal asked, and I paused in thought, realising I’d never spoken about it before.
“I found him in the upper hall of the east wing.” I said. “They’d made a real mess of him. There was blood…everywhere.” I flinched at the memory of that poor kid, lying broken every way a person can be broken. He was barely breathing by then, his consciousness just a flicker, enough to focus his eyes on mine as his last words were made unintelligible by the blood in his mouth and on his lips, and then he died. To my shame I’d left him there, leaving him for the guards to find on their rounds.
Kal was quiet for a long while after that and we finished the shift in silence.
******
Days passed into weeks and Kal adjusted somewhat to the rhythms of life in the Hole. I was pleased to see that he had a talent for avoiding trouble, no doubt honed on the streets, and he proved less naive than I’d first thought.
Of course Gartsa had approached him a couple of times to make overtures, but Kal heeded my advice and had politely declined. I knew that wouldn’t be the end of it, but it was enough for now.
If I was honest I didn’t really blame Gartsa and the others for their interest. As we spent more and more time together, almost every hour of every day, I found myself growing ever more fond of the kid, especially as he relaxed and began to show his playful side, and I would often steal glances at his firm young body, covered only by his shorts as he japed about during work or after lockdown. Not that I was alone in stealing looks, and I’d caught Kal staring at the front of my shorts more than once, a curious look in his eye. Of course it didn’t help that I had so much time to let my imagination go wild, and I found my lust kept me awake more than Stevens’ snores ever did, thinking of how it would feel to have Kal under me, gasping and squirming and saying my name.
Kal was fidgeting on his bunk one evening when he turned to me and spoke.
“Baxter. Can I ask you something?” I put the book down, a little annoyed. It was about to get to a juicy part.
“Go ahead.” I said, and gave him my attention. I could tell by his look that he was hesitant to ask what he wanted to ask. He took a deep breath and plowed on.
“What do you do when you want to…you know…” I didn’t know. Not at first. He elaborated by gesturing to his crotch. “When you want to…let off some steam…” He was blushing now and, realising what he meant, I laughed.
“Why, things getting a little pent up?” He turned from pink to crimson. “Dont be embarrassed.” I reassured him. “We’re all guys in here, and not much shocks me after all this time.”
He seemed a little relieved, but still couldn’t meet my eyes. I decided there was only one way to both diffuse his embarrassment and answer his question, so I casually reached for the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down, letting my now half hard cock flop out. This got Kal’s attention and he stared at my naked dick as it lay across my belly.
“Kal, if you feel the need to jerk off, just do it.” I took my cock in my hand and began to slowly stroke it. Kal continued to look, transfixed as my cock grew. I have to admit it felt hot as hell with him watching so closely, and I enjoyed putting on a show for him, slowly working it up and down, letting the precum begin to pool at the end. Kal adjusted his own shorts, letting his hand stay there and I saw him grip himself through the fabric, fondling the hard-on he was still too shy to show. “Go on.” I prompted him. “Take it out. Give him some air.”
Kal nodded and pulled his shorts down past his ass. I licked my lips without thinking as I saw those firm, smooth cheeks, and his short, blunt dick pointing skywards the way only teenage dicks do. His hand was back on it and he jerked it as he continued to watch me stroke. He seemed fascinated by my cock.
“You wanna touch it?” I asked him, and his attention snapped to my face. I could tell he wanted to, like really wanted to, but couldn’t quite take that step on his own. I took it for him. I stood and crossed the few feet to his bunk and stood in front of him, my dick hard, throbbing inches from his face as he gazed at it. I reached and gently took his wrist, and he offered no resistance as I lifed his hand to my cock. His fingers opened and encircled it, and I felt a jolt of electricity sear my nerves. He looked up into my eyes and I nodded my approval, my permission, and Kal began to tentatively stroke me up and down. “That’s a good boy.” My voice was low, and I saw a passion flare in his eyes at my words. I reached my hand to his chin and cupped it. “Good boy.” I repeated, and he melted a little more.
My cock was nearly at his lips by this time, precum beading, begging to be kissed away. Feeling bold brushed the head against them and they parted, just enough to wrap that sweet spot in warmth. His eyes sought mine again. “Go on.” I said. “It’s okay.”
He sucked me in deeper. This was another thing I’d forgotten, that delicious feeling of a willing mouth welcoming me, of a man on his knees looking up with affection. While I hadn’t exactly been a monk during my time in the Hole, I had mostly avoided entanglements. The few trysts I’d had were perfunctory affairs, a means to an end for both sides. This felt different, though. It had been getting clearer to me by the day that what I felt about Kal was more than just frustrated lust. I cared for him, and when he took me in his mouth it meant something.
I urged him on with low cooing, more affirmations. I imagined that it had been a long time since someone had seen good in him, and had told him so. The way he nursed on my prick told me as much. I knew the feeling well. I’d payed my dues on the streets as he had, I knew what it was like to be invisible. Kal sucked me deep, pushing himself to his limit, choking as he strove to earn that affirmation. I gently eased him off and he sat back, gasping, eyes alive with that passion flame I’d seen before.
I leaned in and kissed him, his wet lips tasting of me. He kissed me back, his arms finding my shoulders and gripping the muscles. He must have felt them tense as I lifted him, my hands on that firm, round ass of his and our lips still locked. I span around and sat, with Kal now straddling my lap. His shorts had fallen away and his bare ass was pressed against my hard dick. I felt him clench around me in his excitement as my hands felt him over, hungry as the rest of me. I slowly thrust my hips, pressing my cock along the crease between his ass cheeks and he moaned low in his throat.
“You want this, Kal?” He shivered at my words and moaned again. “Tell me you want this.”
“Fuck….yes Baxter. I want it.” He was panting now. “Please….”
I flipped him onto his back on the bunk and leant over him, spitting in my hand and using it to slick his hole. I poked at it with a finger. Man, he was tight.
“This your first time?” I asked. He nodded. “I’ll be gentle. Just breathe, ok?” He nodded again and steadied himself.
He winced when my first finger went inside of him. His brow furrowed and his lips curled, and I knew that he was riding the wave of pain that always comes the first time. My movements were slow to start, gently reaching into him, my index finger searching. Kal’s expression transformed when the finger found its target, that secret button all guys have. By the dreamy look that had now come over him, I guessed Kal’s button was more sensitive than most. Before long I had two fingers, then three inside of him, and he was pushing back at my hand for more. I pulled it away and saw him glare at me for a heartbeat, but he melted again as I got myself into position to line my cock up with his hole. Our eyes locked as I pushed forward with my hips. Kal grit his teeth and grabbed at the blanket he lay on, but he didn’t cry out, though I could see by his eyes that he wanted to badly.
“Good boy.” I murmured as I eased my cock deeper, and that invisible street kid appeared before me again, seen at last. “Good boy.” Then I kissed him and buried myself in him to the limit, my mouth swallowing his moans, his pain and his pleasure, and I fucked him, the two of us alone among many, our moans and grunts adding to the night noise of the prison.
Kal was squirming under me and saying my name over and over, and I was saying his, until we abandoned words altogether and became animals, naked and unafraid, growling in our need until with a roar they must have heard in the next wing I erupted inside of him, cumming harder than I had in years.
It was past lights when I finally collapsed exhausted on him, spending myself inside him for a third time, our bodies slick with shared sweat. Kal was quiet again, but the silence had a different timbre now. I knew he would be processing what had happened, coming down from his high. I was too, and was content to lie there with him in the silence and the soft amber light from the grille, listening to the sound of his breaths and they slowed. I don’t know when I slept but I did.
I woke up before the morning call. I always do.