Unfortunately, Madeleine wasn't able to come to see Joseph for several weeks after that. First, she came down with the flu, and then she got stuck working Saturdays. She kept promising that she would work it out and be back to see him soon. Joseph understood that she had a life outside of him, but he couldn't help being disappointed and a little frustrated about not getting to see her. After all, it was only the promise of being with her again that was helping him survive this nightmare.

But Madeleine's continuing absence wasn't his most pressing worry. Smitty and his gang had been growing increasingly restless since their pulling-down-the-pants gag had lost its humiliating zing. Apparently, their one source of enjoyment came from making Joseph's life a living a hell, and they couldn't be satisfied if they weren't actively working toward that goal.

Every day in the laundry, Joseph would feel their eyes following him wherever he went, as if they were plotting something and were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. Not surprisingly, it made Joseph terribly jumpy. Worse yet, Smitty made it a point to rub against him whenever he walked past. He always pressed against Joseph long enough for him to feel the hard on he was sporting. Of course, Haynes and the Nazi were never far behind their leader. Every time Joseph turned around, he had one of them plastered against him.

A couple of times Joseph had almost brought up the issue with Gus. That was supposed to be their deal, after all--protection in exchange for slavish submission. But every time Joseph started to broach the topic, he flashed back to that first day at breakfast, to Gus stabbing the guy in the hand with his fork just for asking Joseph's name. Gus was by far the most violently jealous man Joseph had ever seen. What if he thought that Joseph had somehow asked for this unwanted attention? That could be worse than just dealing with Smitty.

Joseph kept going back and forth over his options all morning. At lunch, he sat quietly, ate the little bit of food that Gus left on his tray, and studied his husband out of the corner of his eye. Was he in a good mood? Was this a good time to bring it up? Joseph just couldn't decide. When the meal was over, he followed Gus to the rec room, still not sure what to do.

"Go wait over there with Carlos, Sunshine," Gus told him. "I've got some business to discuss with Ray. Just between us men."

Joseph nodded and went to sit at the table where Carlos was setting up a checkerboard. Gus headed off with Ray.

Carlos smiled. "Hey, querido, you want to play?"

Joseph shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll let you be black. You go first."

Joseph smiled playfully. "You better watch out. I used to be pretty good at this."

"Oh, yeah, querido? When was that?"

"Hmm. About the fifth grade, I think."

They both smiled. Joseph made his first move, and Carlos countered. After several more turns, Joseph worked up the courage to ask Carlos for his advice about the Smitty situation.

"Uh, Carlos?" Joseph asked, while Carlos contemplated his next move. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, querido. Anything."

"I, uh-- I've been having some problems with Smitty."

Carlos looked up sharply. "Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. Well-- Not like you mean. He's just always watching me and rubbing against me. I feel like he's planning something."

Carlos shook his head. "That man is just plain obsessed."

"So what should I do?"

"Tell Gus. He'll put a stop to it."

"But don't you think he might--"

Joseph was drowned out as the men around them all started to whistle and shout obscenities. He looked around and saw a line of new inmates, all nude, being paraded down the hall to the infirmary, just as Joseph had been on his first day.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Nothing gets the animals worked up like fresh meat."

"Don't you wonder how all these guys ended up in here?"

"It's not really too hard to figure. Like that guy." Carlos pointed to a thin man with dark, slicked back hair. "A dealer. No doubt about it."

"How do you know?"

Carlos shrugged. "Just do. You pick it up after you've been around a while."

"What about that one?" Joseph pointed to a big beefy man who had a scary amount of back hair.

"Assault. Probably a bar fight. And the guy behind him shot somebody. I'd bet you anything. And the guy behind him-- Tax evasion. Or fraud. Or something like that."

This last man was a little shorter than Joseph and maybe a bit heavier. But he had the same blond hair, blue eyes and bewildered expression that Joseph had worn on his first day. Truly, they could have been brothers.

Carlos shook his head sadly. "I tell what, though. That's one cherry that's not going to last the night."

"Is that what you said about me?" Joseph asked.

"Ah, querido, no." Carlos put his hand on top of Joseph's. "About you I said: There goes someone I'd like to know better."

He gently stroked his thumb along the tender underside of Joseph's wrist. It was a casual caress, but it surged through Joseph like a white-hot jolt of electricity. He suddenly felt as if his insides were boiling over. But he didn't really have time to enjoy it before Carlos quickly snatched his hand back. A moment later, Gus and Ray approached their table.

"Carlos, let's go," Ray ordered.

Carlos nodded and obediently got to his feet, like a good little punk.

"See you tonight," he told Joseph, in the quiet voice he always used around Ray.

When Ray turned his back, though, Carlos gave Joseph one of those sultry smiles of his, showing the spark beneath the submissive facade.

"Bye," Joseph said, his mouth suddenly dry with unmistakable hunger.

Gus put a hand on Joseph's shoulder, and he nearly leaped out of his skin. He'd been so absorbed in watching Carlos that he'd forgotten all about Gus.

"Okay, Sunshine," he said. "Time to go back to the cell."

Joseph put on his own most docile expression and meekly hurried after him.

Back in the cell, he stripped off his uniform and slipped into a garter belt, stockings and heels as Gus required. He brushed his hair. It reached below his chin now, and he had to give it at least a hundred strokes a day to keep it looking glossy. He frowned as he checked his reflection in the mirror. The bra he had put on that morning really didn't match his garter belt. He undid the front closure and took it off to change into one that suited better.

The sight of his bare chest made him pause. He flashed back to the first girl he'd ever seen naked. Her name was Suzy Kennedy. They had hidden up in his tree house together and played a game of show-me-yours-and-I'll-show-you-mine. They were only twelve, but Suzy had developed early. Joseph could still picture the way her budding breasts had looked as he reached out with trembling fingers to gently touch her nipple. His own chest now bore a striking resemblance to Suzy's.

It wasn't just his chest that had changed, either. His skin had become smoother, softer, and his face was decidedly less angular. Thanks to Gus' starvation diet, his waist had narrowed considerably. But, strangely, he seemed to have put on weight through his lower torso. In fact, he had become downright curvaceous. His butt was full and lush. His hips were rounded and-- well, womanly.

But it couldn't be, could it? Surely, you couldn't become feminine simply from pretending to be a woman?

"Hey, Sunshine, you through primping yet?" Gus asked from his bunk, where he was thumbing through an old copy of "Hustler."

Joseph blushed. "Sorry," he muttered, as he quickly finished slipping into the bra.

Gus chuckled. "You're a woman, Sunshine. It's only natural for you to be concerned about your appearance. It's good you've been spending more time in front of the mirror lately."

Oh, God! Joseph thought, as panic flooded him. Had his behavior really changed that much? Had he started to identify too much with the role he was playing?

He forced himself to calm down. There just wasn't time to fret about it now. He had the cell to clean. And then there were his nails to do. Working in the laundry was murder on them.

Later than evening, Joseph joined Carlos for their nightly shower. They leisurely undressed and headed for their usual spot beneath the showerheads. They washed companionably, passing the soap back and forth, relishing the peacefulness of being alone together without their men watching them like hawks.

For Joseph, it was as if there were two worlds: out there where he worried constantly about what everything that was happening to him in prison meant about his manhood and in here where the only thing that mattered was the simple, sensual enjoyment of being with Carlos.

In his old life, he never could have imagined finding another man's naked body beautiful. But this was far from his old life. And the truth was that he liked looking at Carlos. He didn't even try to hide it anymore. Carlos certainly didn't seem to mind. He stared at Joseph's body just as hungrily.

Before prison, there had never been any reason for Joseph to contemplate another guy's cock, but now that he spent so much time on the receiving end of one, he tended to take note. Carlos was well endowed for a man his size, but not nearly as mammoth as Gus. It made Joseph wonder what it would be like to have sex with a man who was hung like a human instead of a horse.

There were some rare occasions when Gus was fucking Joseph that he would hit an electric place inside him, and Joseph's whole body would light up. Then, Joseph would squeeze his eyes tightly shut and pretend it was Carlos making him feel that way. Afterwards, he was always slightly ashamed of himself and more than a little horrified of what could happen if he ever called out the wrong name. But that never stopped him from doing it again the next time around.

"Let me do you, querido," Carlos said.

Joseph turned around, so Carlos could shave him. Carlos took his time, lathering Joseph's body indulgently, lingering on every touch, sensually stroking and caressing him. Joseph closed his eyes and let his head fall back. God, it felt good. This shaving ritual may have started out as a practical necessity, but there was nothing utilitarian about it any more. If Joseph had to pick one word to describe, it would definitely have to be-- well, foreplay.

Except, sadly, that it was foreplay that was never going to lead anywhere. Joseph was still having problems getting an erection, and even if he had been able to get it up, he and Carlos still wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. The consequences of getting caught were simply too great.

"Okay, querido." Carlos touched him on the shoulder. "All done."

Joseph turned around. Carlos was half hard, just from touching him, and that touched an erotic pulse deep inside Joseph.

He smiled softly, sensually at Carlos. "Thanks," he said. "Now you."

Carlos turned around. Joseph lathered and stroked him. Carlos sucked in his breath at the touch. He was ragingly erect before Joseph even began to shave him.

When they had first started showering together, Carlos always took the opportunity to jerk off. But now, he almost never did, no doubt out of respect for Joseph's deprivation. It had been pretty jarring the first time Joseph had watched him masturbate, but after a while, it became rather-- well, arousing. Truthfully, Joseph kind of missed it.

He finished shaving Carlos' cleft and rinsed away the leftover soap. But somehow Joseph just couldn't stop touching him. He molded his hands to Carlos' gorgeous, muscular ass and stroked his cheeks. Carlos moaned softly, and his erection bobbed eagerly. Apparently, Carlos wasn't ready for it to stop, either.

Joseph whispered in his ear. "You know, just because I can't get off doesn't mean you shouldn't."

He felt the sharp intake of Carlos' breath.

"Are you sure, querido?"

"Let me live through you."

Carlos touched himself, his hand trembling, and Joseph watched over his shoulder. His own hands wandered all over Carlos' body--touching his hips, his thighs, his chest, his belly. In his mind, he rationalized away the danger. He wasn't really cheating. He wasn't even touching Carlos' cock. He was just washing him, just helping out another punk the way he was supposed to.

Carlos pressed his body back against Joseph's, and then even his rationalizations were drowned out by the flood of desire. Carlos rubbed his butt against Joseph's cock, and Joseph finally started to harden. He could tell he wasn't going to get hard all the way, wasn't going to be able to come. But still, it was an erection, and the relief of it brought tears to his eyes.

Joseph wrapped his arms around Carlos, and they moved together. Joseph could feel Carlos' breath quicken, his body tense, and then Carlos was coming. Joseph never would have imagined that he could find another man's orgasm beautiful. Every night, he had a front row seat while Gus came, and it never felt like anything but an imposition. But to hold Carlos' trembling, climaxing body in his arms-- well, that was different. It moved him.

Joseph supported Carlos' weight while he regained his senses. When Carlos could breathe again, he turned around.

"Thanks," he said. "That was amazing."

He looked down at Joseph's erection and then back up again. His eyes were dark and sparkling, and the offer was clear. As insane as it was, Joseph found himself weighing the risks. If Gus caught him, he was a dead man. But how was Gus ever going to find out? He moved closer to Carlos. Carlos put an arm around his waist and ran his hand up and down Joseph's back.

A loud commotion in the dressing area caused them both to jump back. They had just enough time to grab their towels and wrap them around their waists before Smitty, Haynes and the tattooed Nazi stormed into the shower. They dragged with them the new inmate who had reminded Joseph so much of himself. The man, obviously terrified, thrashed and kicked, desperate to get away from them. When that didn't work, he switched to begging. Of course, it was totally pointless. As Joseph knew all too well, these thugs showed no mercy to anyone.

Joseph knew Carlos was scared, too. His face had gone pale, and the vein stood out on the side of his neck. But still, he drew himself up to his full height and put on his best don't-fuck-with-me voice.

"Hey, you know you're not supposed to be in here," he said. "So get the hell out."

"Shut up, punk!" Haynes shouted.

He pulled out a shiv and took a menacing step toward them. Joseph grabbed Carlos' hand and pulled him back. But Haynes kept advancing on them until they were boxed into a corner.

"Ray will kill you, man. You know he will," Carlos said. "And that's nothing compared to what Gus is gonna do."

"I told you to shut up!" Haynes backhanded Carlos across the face.

"Stop it!" Joseph shouted.

He stepped in front of Carlos to shield him.

Smitty laughed unpleasantly. "Isn't that sweet," he said. "The girls are trying to protect each other."

He held the new inmate by the hair. The man's eyes were closed, and he was whispering in a pleading voice: "Please, God, help me."

Smitty shook the man by his hair. He cried out in pain.

"Shut up, bitch!" Smitty yelled at him.

Joseph huddled a little closer to Carlos. He was even more terrified now than he had been the first time Smitty and his thugs had cornered him in the shower. At least then, they didn't have knives. Where the hell was Gus anyway? It was way past time for him to come rushing to the rescue.

Smitty pulled out a shiv. He held it up and watched it glint in the room's hard, fluorescent light. He smiled evilly at Joseph.

"I hope you enjoy this, Princess," he said. "I know I will."

Smitty nodded to the Nazi. He knocked the new inmate to the floor and held him there. Smitty used the shiv to make quick work of his clothes. The new inmate, now nude and completely vulnerable, flailed pitifully, but he was no match for the Nazi's hulking strength. The Nazi had no trouble turning him over onto his stomach and forcing him up onto his hands and knees. Smitty dropped to his knees behind the man and took his dick out his pants. He quickly stroked himself to full hardness.

The man whimpered in terror. "Please don't do this. Please, God."

"This is for you, Princess," Smitty told Joseph.

His hips lunged forward. The man's scream of violation reverberated off the shower walls and rattled Joseph down to his bones. Blood ran down the man's leg. Joseph's stomach turned, and he really thought he was going to be sick. Smitty pulled out and pushed back in again. The new inmate started to cry--hard, choking sobs that shook his entire body.

It sickened Joseph to know that this was happening simply because Smitty wanted to send him a message. He threw himself against Haynes with all his weight, to try to get past him and go help the man. But Haynes grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him violently backward. Carlos caught him and kept him from falling.

He held onto Joseph and whispered in his ear, "No, querido, don't give them a reason to hurt you. That's exactly what they want."

It was the truth, Joseph knew. But it seemed so cowardly and callous to stand by and watch someone else being brutalized without even trying to help. Joseph couldn't bear it. He turned his head and buried his face in Carlos' shoulder. Carlos tightened his grip on Joseph's hand.

"Oh, no, Princess," Smitty said. "I want you to see this."

He reached around his victim's body and held the shiv to his balls. The man wailed in terror.

"I'll cut him," Smitty told Joseph. "I swear I will."

Joseph had no choice but to turn back and watch as Smitty continued the rape, dragging it out, enjoying every moment of it. After a while, the man he was raping stopped crying, stopped begging, apparently in shock. The only sounds in the room were the soft noise of rending flesh, the slap-slap of body against body, and the grotesque rasping of Smitty's exertion. When Smitty finally came, he gripped the man's hips, leaving dark bruises in the shape of fingers, and rammed as far forward as he could. Joseph flinched at the wide-eyed expression of agony and horror on the man's face as Smitty spurted inside him.

Smitty pulled out. The man crumpled to the floor. Blood pooled beneath him. But, of course, that wasn't the end of it. The Nazi kicked the man's legs apart, dropped to the ground and scrambled on top of him. He guided his cock to the man's hole, and the torment began all over again.

The Nazi fucked the poor man such a long time that Joseph began to wonder if it was ever going to end. He had no idea how he and Carlos were going to get out of there without the same thing happening to them.

After the Nazi finally finished, Haynes, of course, was eager for his turn. Joseph felt Carlos squeeze his hand. He tensed, ready to follow whenever Carlos made his move. Haynes lowered the shiv so he could undo his pants. Carlos broke for the door, and Joseph raced after him. No one tried to stop them. In fact, Smitty just laughed.

He called after them, "Your turn next time, Princess."

They didn't stop running until they were all the way back to Joseph's cell. Even when they'd made it there safely, Joseph couldn't stop shaking. He felt cold, deep in his gut. It was the kind of terror that you didn't just shake off.

That's why he didn't stop to think about who might see or worry about how Gus might react. He just pulled Carlos against him and hugged him hard. He needed the comfort of physical contact, the warmth of skin against skin to thaw the icy fear. Carlos held him tightly. He buried his face in Joseph's neck and tenderly stroked his back.

"It's okay, querido," he whispered. "It's going to be okay."

Joseph couldn't stop shaking. "You heard what he said."

Carlos pulled back to look at him. He held onto Joseph's hand. "Gus will take care of it," he said. "And you and me will be a lot more careful next time. All right?"

Joseph nodded.

"You gonna be okay?" Carlos asked.

Joseph lowered his eyes. "I guess so. It's just-- That man-- Maybe we could have--"

"Don't," Carlos said.

"But--"

"I mean it, Joseph," Carlos said, sternly.

Joseph blinked. Carlos had never sounded like that before, so deadly serious. And he never, ever called Joseph by his full name.

"We couldn't have done anything about what happened back there," Carlos said. "And we can't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Joseph nodded.

"Good," Carlos said. "Look, I'd better go before Gus gets back. I'm sure the word's out by now."

Joseph had to force himself to let go of Carlos' hand. He really, really didn't want to. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, each staring intently into the other's face. Carlos' lips looked so warm and inviting, and Joseph suddenly, desperately wanted to lean forward and press his own lips against them, softly, sweetly, just enough to feel Carlos' breath in his mouth.

Just this once , he thought. One time. That's not too much to ask, is it?

The look on Carlos' face made it clear that he wanted the same thing, very badly. Joseph bent his head and leaned closer. His cheek brushed against Carlos'. He could feel the wild thrumming of Carlos' pulse echoing in his own body. Just a little bit more. That's all it would take.

"Joseph, we can't," Carlos whispered, shakily.

He took a hasty step back.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "Too many eyes. Ray and Gus would kill us both. And we've already got all the trouble we need. I'll see you later."

Carlos hurried out of the cell. Joseph watched him go. Carlos still had just the towel knotted at his waist, and with every other step, Joseph could see the strong, muscular line of his thigh. The sight of it left an aching, empty feeling inside Joseph.

Joseph sighed. He realized that Gus probably would turn up at any moment, so he sat down on his bunk and put the tuck back on. His hands were still trembling pretty badly, but he did manage to get dressed before Gus came skidding into the cell.

He looked quite taken aback when he saw Joseph calmly sitting on his bunk. Gus himself was rather disheveled, as if he'd run as fast as he could the whole way there. Joseph could only imagine how the prison grapevine had distorted what happened in the shower room. Clearly, Gus had expected to find him splattered on the floor.

"Sunshine," he said.

"Sir?"

"Just-- Nothing. I mean-- You okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Gus sat down beside him.

"You sure?" he asked, in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Joseph nodded.

"'Cause you'd really need to tell me if something happened to you. So I could take care of it. That's how this place works."

"I understand, sir. But they didn't do anything to me. I swear."

Gus nodded. "Good. That's real good then. You were thinking quick to get out of a situation like that. I'm proud of you."

He stood up.

"Now you go on to bed," Gus told him. "It's almost lights out."

Joseph stared at him in disbelief. This was the first time since Joseph hooked up with Gus that he didn't want sex before they went to sleep. Gus smoothed the hair off Joseph's forehead and kissed his temple. It was almost tender.

"I'll see you in the morning," Gus said.

"Good night, sir."

Joseph slid beneath the covers. He crooked his arm over his face and waited for the lights to go out. No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, the after image of that man down on the shower room floor wouldn't fade.

Over the next few days, Gus continued to be extremely solicitous of Joseph. Not that he suddenly decided to become a monk and swear off sex forever. The morning after the shower room incident, he was as horny and raring to go as ever. But he did become rather preoccupied with the little niceties. He always wanted to know if Joseph was warm enough and if he needed more moisturizer.

For his own part, Joseph had never been so enthusiastic about their sex life. He arched into every one of Gus' touches. He begged to be fucked like he really meant it. Frankly, Gus had never looked so good. Sure, he was kind of a freak and definitely got off on humiliation. But he'd never been vicious. He spanked Joseph when he broke the rules, but he never just punched him for fun or intentionally tried to hurt him while they were fucking. The only time he'd made Joseph bleed was that first time, and even that was nothing compared to what Smitty and his hoodlums had done to the man in the shower.

All in all, Joseph felt rather lucky.

And that left him feeling tremendously guilty. Things really hadn't worked out so badly for him. He and Carlos had gotten out of the shower room without being hurt. Smitty and his buddies had ended up in the hole. Gus was being chivalrous. Without Smitty and his gang around, Joseph had started to get along better with the other guys on his work detail.

Meanwhile, the man who had not been so lucky in the shower room was in the infirmary. He was going to spend at least the next month there, on his stomach, confined to bed. The word was that it was still touch and go whether he'd ever have control of his bowel muscles again.

Even though Smitty and the others were in solitary, Gus and Ray still seemed to be cooking up some kind of revenge scheme. They met to talk "men's business" much more often than they had before. This meant that Joseph got to spend a lot more time with Carlos. They would sit together and pretend to care about the game of checkers they were playing, letting their fingers brush as they made each move. It was a seemingly casual gesture, something they could get away with without anyone noticing, but it sent an electric charge up Joseph's arms that made his elbows ache.

Carlos still seemed concerned about Joseph's reaction to what happened in the shower.

"You know we couldn't have done anything to stop it, right?" he said.

Joseph nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"They would have just fucked us too and then told our men we asked for it. You know that."

"I know, Carlos."

Carlos sighed. "Then you got to let the guilt go, man."

Joseph just nodded. Somehow, Carlos had gotten this idea that Joseph was a far nobler soul that he actually was. He didn't know how to tell him that his guilt had nothing to do with not being able to stop what happened. Because, of course, they couldn't have. That was life in prison, and you just had to accept it.

He hadn't found a way to explain to Carlos that his guilt came from feeling just so fucking relieved that he and Carlos hadn't ended up on their stomachs in the infirmary. It probably wasn't fair, but he kind of wanted Carlos to keep at least a few of the illusions he had about him.

Meanwhile, it had been over two months since Madeleine's last visit, and every week she seemed to have a new excuse why she couldn't come. She had promised her sister she would take the kids for the weekend. Her mother was under the weather and needed help around the house. Her voice always sounded strained during their brief phone conversations. Joseph went around with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had never stopped to consider what he would do if she didn't wait for him. But it had only been a little over three months, and he was really starting to worry that their marriage wasn't going to weather the separation.

He also had to contend with the continued, grotesque swelling in his chest. He'd debated with himself about what to do. He'd ruled out going to the infirmary. One of the first things you learned in prison was that it was best not to involve the prison administration in your problems if at all possible. And, of course, Gus would have a cow if the doctor interfered with their conjugal arrangements. So, that really left Joseph only one option. He had been working up his courage for a week.

After the obligatory morning sex, Joseph got up, washed at the basin and stared at himself in the mirror. The swelling around his nipples just kept getting worse. He slipped into his bra. He'd already gone up two bra sizes, and this one was starting to look tight. Each time, Gus just handed him a new one without comment. But finally, Joseph couldn't put off asking him about it. He was just too worried.

Gus was already dressed, sitting on Joseph's bunk, waiting for him to finish up, so they could go to breakfast.

Joseph cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, sir?"

Gus looked up from his copy of "Jugs."

"Yes, Sunshine?" he said.

He hesitated a moment. "Um-- Don't you think it's a little odd that I keep needing bigger and bigger bras?"

"Nah. It's normal," Gus said. "Your titties are still growing. It usually takes a few months after you start taking the hormones to reach your full bust size."

Joseph just stood there and stared at his husband with his mouth agape, completely dumbstruck. When he did manage to speak, all he could sputter was, "What?"

"What?" Gus asked, perfectly innocently. "What'd you think was happening, Sunshine? I mean, it's pretty obvious." He laughed. "And come on. Have you ever seen a vitamin that came in a little round pill?"

After more than three months in prison, Joseph really thought nothing could shock or appall him anymore. But quite clearly, he had been wrong. Because this-- Well, this was just too ghastly to wrap his mind around.

"You mean-- I have--" he said, half in shock, staring pitifully down at his blooming bosom.

Gus laughed, got up and walked over to him. "Breasts?" he supplied helpfully. "Yeah, Sunshine. You've got breasts."

He cupped Joseph's breasts and fondled them.

"Mmm," he said, appreciatively. "I usually like nice, big knockers, but there's something to be said for young titties, too."

Gus rubbed his nipples, and to Joseph's great shame, they hardened. Gus laughed.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Responsive little tits, just the way I like them."

"Why?" Joseph asked tremulously, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes.

Gus looked honestly perplexed by the question. "You're my woman, Sunshine. What man doesn't want his woman to have a nice handful here?" He squeezed Joseph's sensitive breasts. "Or back here?" He ran his hands around Joseph's waist and down to his ass. Now, Joseph finally understood the lopsided weight gain. "I like my woman soft and juicy. You just needed a little help getting that way, so you could please me. You do want to please me, don't you, Sunshine?"

Joseph quickly flashed back to that night in the shower room. He knew without any doubt that it would have been him down on that cold, hard floor if it weren't for Gus' protection. He nodded, trying to fight back the tears. He realized now that it must be the damned hormones making him so emotional all the time.

"I want to please you," he said, softly.

Of course, what he really meant was: I don't want to end up like that man in the infirmary.

Gus stroked his cheek. "That's my good girl. Now, don't you worry your pretty head about a thing. When you stop taking the hormones, they'll go away. But until then, you'll be my sweet, stacked little wife. Go on and finish getting ready, Sunshine. I've got some business to see to before breakfast. I'll meet you in the cafeteria."

Joseph nodded and started to put on his bra.

Gus watched him appraisingly. "Yep," he said. "You're definitely ready for something bigger. I'd say you're up to an A cup. You're going to have a nice rack on you by the time you finish growing them."

Gus whistled as he left the cell. Joseph's hands shook, but he forced himself to keep getting ready. He had a lot to do before he'd be presentable enough to go out in public. He tried really hard not to cry. If he smeared his makeup, he'd have to start all over again.

Even though Joseph was physically no different after Gus' revelation, he felt different, and that, along with Madeleine's continued absence, sent him spiraling into depression. He went through his daily routine on auto-pilot, keeping his eyes meekly lowered, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. The guys on his work detail tried to draw him out, but he resolutely kept to himself. He couldn't even muster up any interest in hanging out with Carlos.

Finally, one afternoon when Gus and Ray were off having a powwow, Carlos dragged Joseph to the much-visited spot beneath the back stairs where they could have a private conversation.

"Okay, querido, what's wrong? You've been moping around here like somebody killed your puppy. Are you mad at me? Did Gus do something? What is it?"

Joseph laughed at the irony. "You already know what the problem is, Carlos. Hell, everybody in this whole fucking place knows. I'm the only idiot who's been in the dark."

Carlos reached for his arm. "Come on, querido. I don't understand. What do you think we all know?"

"I really thought I had some kind of weird disease. Or it was a bizarre psychiatric problem. Like I was pretending to be a woman, and so my body just went crazy and started to act it out. But everybody else-- they all knew what's been happening to me."

Understanding dawned on Carlos' face. He tightened his hold on Joseph's arm.

"Oh, querido. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joseph asked, tearfully. "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends. I thought you knew. I swear. I was sure he would have told you."

"Well, he didn't," Joseph said.

He started to cry. Damn it! He hated how these fucking hormones played havoc with his emotions. Carlos tenderly stroked his hair.

"It's gonna be okay, querido. I promise. Don't get so upset."

"How can I not be upset?" Joseph asked between sobs. "I'm growing tits."

"When you get out of here, you'll stop taking whatever shit Gus is giving you, and they'll go away. It'll be like you never even had them. You'll see. And besides--"

"What?"

Carlos looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then he slipped his hand into Joseph's shirt, inside his bra and gently stroked Joseph's nipple with his thumb. Joseph gasped at the intense pleasure of it. His nipple immediately hardened.

Carlos whispered against his ear, "Tits can be nice."

He moved his hand to fondle the other breast. The electric shock of his touch ran all through Joseph's body. He felt it even in his bound, strangled dick.

Carlos pulled his hand back and softly brushed his lips against Joseph's cheek.

"It'll be okay," he said. "You'll see."

Joseph nodded.

"Feel better now?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Carlos."

Carlos smiled. "That's what friends are for, querido."

After that, Joseph made his peace, more or less, with the reality of his new body. His one big concern, though, was seeing Madeleine before his bosom developed so much that it was impossible to hide from her. In a fit of desperation, he wrote her a plaintive letter, pouring out his heart. It read:

Dear Maddy,

One of the (few) good things about prison is that there is so much time to think about things. It has been so long since you last came to see me that I know something must be wrong. I've been giving our relationship a lot of thought, and I can see now how I went wrong in the past, how I failed to be a good husband. Since I've been in prison, I've had some-- well, insight, I guess you could say-- into the woman's point of view. Um-- you know, just because there's a lot of time to think, like I said before.

Anyway, I know now that I wasn't always respectful of your needs or your boundaries. I didn't always stop to think about how the things I did might make you feel. But I swear that's all going to change when I get home. I will be such a new and improved husband that you'll hardly recognize me.

So, please, please, come visit. I'm just desperate to reconnect with you before-- Well, as soon as possible. I will be so very, very grateful if you can do just this one thing for me.

All my love always,

Joseph

He half expected Madeleine to ignore his plea, but only a few days after he sent the letter, he received an apologetic phone call from her saying that she would come to visit that weekend. The happy news left Joseph walking on air. He smiled politely at the guards. He hummed cheerfully to himself whenever he sucked Gus off, which Gus enjoyed quite a bit. He blithely ignored the return of Smitty and the boys to the work detail after their release from solitary.

He had even worked out what to do about hiding his tits from Madeleine. The shirt Gus had altered for him was completely formfitting and revealed everything. It would never do. But Carlos had agreed to loan him one of his shirts. Joseph had tried it on. If he bloused it in just the right way, you really couldn't tell he had breasts. Gus had even generously given him permission to wear the shirt and forego makeup for Madeleine's visit. So Joseph didn't have to worry about getting punished afterwards.

Time seemed to move at an infinitesimal pace, until finally Saturday arrived. A guard came to get Joseph and escorted him to the visitor's room. As before, Madeleine was already seated on the other side of the plexi-glass shield. She smiled when she saw him. Joseph returned the smile and sat down opposite her.

He picked up the phone and said, "Hi, sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming."

"I'm sorry it's been so long," she said, guiltily.

"That's okay, honey. It's just so good to have you here now."

Madeleine shook her head. "It's not okay, Joseph. Really. It isn't. You shouldn't just let me off the hook like that. I never should have-- I haven't been a very good wife to you lately."

"This is a really hard time," he said. "And I know you must be very angry at me about everything that's happened. That's my fault. I would never blame you for it."

"We said for better or worse, Joseph. I take that seriously. I really do. It's just that--"

"What?"

"I don't know. Everything's just gotten so confusing."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Do you?" she asked, in a startled voice.

"I think so."

Joseph squirmed in his seat. He wanted to look relaxed and open for Madeleine's benefit. But he was so supremely self-conscious of his tits that he couldn't get comfortable. He kept crossing his arms over his chest and nervously looking away whenever he caught her eye. He could tell he was making her uptight, too. He just didn't know how to help it.

"Oh, God. You really do know, don't you?" Madeleine asked, eyes lowered.

"Know what?"

"About Larry."

"Larry?" he asked. And then he frowned. "You mean, Mr. Gillespie?"

She nodded.

"What does Mr. Gillespie have to do with--" Realization sucker punched him in the gut. "Oh. Larry. I get it."

"I didn't mean for it to happen. I swear. You have to believe me, Joseph."

Joseph couldn't say anything for a moment. This was absolutely the last thing he ever would have expected from her--this betrayal. Because, God help him, everything Joseph had done was for her. He had taken the money to give her the life she wanted. And now, he was growing fucking breasts and spending a part of every day with his knees in his ears and Gus' dick up his ass just to try to keep that promise he'd made to her to come home the same man he'd been before. And all the while, she was breaking the sacred vows she had made to him. Fuck it all! She was supposed to wait.

Joseph shook his head in disbelief. "You and Mr. Gillespie. I mean, Larry." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I'm stuck in here, and you start fucking my boss. Who got me thrown into this hellhole in the first place, I might add. That's great, Madeleine. That's really just fan-fucking-tastic."

She looked shocked. He had never spoken to her like that before. He'd always played the perfect gentleman. But screw that. Joseph was sick to death of playacting. Madeleine sat there completely still, and for a moment, he really thought she was going to bolt. But then, she pressed her hand against the glass.

"No, no, Joseph. You don't understand," she said, almost frantically. "It's not like that. I haven't-- We haven't--"

She blushed. Joseph remembered that so well, how she couldn't talk about sex without looking like an embarrassed sixteen-year-old. He'd always found it so charming. So innocent.

"It's just--" She struggled to find the words. "Larry has been so supportive, so kind. And I've been so alone and so terribly lost. I just-- I feel very close to him. Very grateful. It's-- well, that's what I meant about it being confusing."

Joseph sat up straight with renewed hope. "You mean you haven't slept with him yet?"

She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink once more.

"Oh, God," he said, intensely relieved. "Thank you. God. Thank you."

"But I have feelings for him, Joseph. I have to be honest about that."

He pressed his hand to the glass as if he could actually touch her. "I understand. It's only natural. This is hard, and he's helping you through it. It's normal to confuse love with gratitude."

"I don't know if that's what's happening," she said, reluctantly.

"I do. Really, darling. I'm sure of it. Look, it's only four more months now. That's really not long at all. Would you do something for me? For our marriage?"

She nodded. "If I can."

"Then promise me you won't do anything about your feelings for Mr. Gillespie until I get out of here. Then we can sort through all this together. If you actually are in love with him, I won't try to stand in your way. I swear I won't. But, please, don't make a decision while I'm stuck in here. Give me a chance to show you how much I love you."

"Oh, Joseph. Of course. I mean, I am your wife. I owe you that much. And I do still love you. I swear. I don't want our marriage to end because we didn't try hard enough to save it."

He closed his eyes, almost weak with relief. "Thank you, Madeleine. Thank you so much. Everything will be different once I'm out of here. You'll see. I promise to be the best husband any woman ever had."

"I believe you, Joseph. And I do really love you."

"I love you, too, Madeleine. So much."

She blinked, her eyes filled with tears. "I can't wait for you to get out of this place."

He nodded. "I know. Me too. It won't be that much longer. We just have to hang on. Knowing you're waiting for me makes it so much easier."

She smiled, almost sadly. "Then that's what I'll do. I'll wait."

Joseph had so much more that he wanted to say, but the guard signaled them that time was up. It was hard to believe a half hour had already passed. God, it went so fast.

"I'll see you soon," Madeleine told him.

"See you, Maddy," Joseph said.

He watched her walk away, just as he had done the last time. He really wanted to believe her when she said she'd wait for him. But he couldn't help feeling that he was watching her walk away for the last time.

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