Before he began growing breasts, Joseph had happily forgotten all about the struggles of adolescence. Now, he was constantly reminded. He would go to bed at night and wake up in the morning noticeably different. As he put on his bra, being extra careful with his sore, sensitive breasts, he would notice that they were fuller, rounder, a slightly different shape than they had been the day before. It was deeply disconcerting to change so quickly. It gave Joseph the uncomfortable feeling of being a stranger in his own body.

Adjusting to his new body posed all kinds of physical challenges. Having a bust line altered his center of gravity, and he was going through something of an awkward period. It was reminiscent of his experience with puberty back in junior high school. Joseph had shot up four inches in just one semester of the eighth grade. He'd been all gangling limbs and oversized feet, and his motor control had been iffy at best. He'd found it next to impossible to walk down the hall without bumping into something.

Joseph was having the same kinds of problems now. He hadn't yet learned to compensate for the unaccustomed weight of his burgeoning bosom. Sometimes, he would turn around quickly or stretch to reach for something--simple movements he normally accomplished with perfect grace--and the added heft of his breasts would knock him off balance. Every time it happened, it both embarrassed and dismayed him.

Still, this was nothing compared to the profound emotional effect his changing body had on him. He was suddenly so shy, so self-conscious. The other men, predictably, acted like horn dogs around him, leering at his blooming figure, harassing him with all sorts of disgusting come-ons. He blushed ferociously at every perverted comment. His tits made him feel as if he were constantly on sexual display. He knew all too well what every man in the joint wanted to do to him, and it left him feeling intensely vulnerable.

Joseph's breasts made him sensitive in other ways, too. Strange ways. He spent a great deal of time in front of the mirror, preoccupied with his appearance. He became obsessed with tiny flaws that had somehow escaped his notice before. He worked extra hard with his makeup to cover them up, to make his complexion as smooth and perfect as possible. He often tried on different combinations of bra, panties and garters and assessed his reflection in the glass. He caught himself wondering if he was pretty.

Most days, Gus didn't really pay that much attention to the finer points of Joseph's appearance. Sure, he enjoyed ogling his tits, but he never noticed when Joseph changed his hairstyle or tried a new shade of eye shadow. When they had sex, all he cared about was getting his rocks off, as quickly as possible. At the beginning of their marriage, he had taken his time. He would kiss Joseph, caress him. Not any more. Now, he just climbed on top, shoved inside, and started fucking away. Joseph would lie beneath Gus, in a teddy he'd worn specially because he thought Gus would like it, deeply disappointed that Gus didn't even noticed how the sapphire color brought out the blue of his eyes. He'd get tearful as Gus grunted and humped away at him, feeling terribly taken for granted.

If growing breasts made Joseph feel this vulnerable and sensitive, he couldn't imagine how teenage girls held up under the stress. He had made up his mind that if he ever had children they were going to have to be boys. Now that he knew firsthand what women went through, there was no way he would ever subject daughters of his to the cruel, leering male world.

Of course, Joseph's changing body played havoc with his plans to shore up his relationship with Madeleine. She came to visit twice after the revelation about Larry, and each time, Joseph was even more frantic than the last. He slumped forward in his chair and kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was so embarrassed he could barely string a sentence together. Madeleine kept asking him what was wrong, but Joseph couldn't even come up with a convincing lie. He was too preoccupied with trying to hide his tits. Both times, Madeleine ended up leaving before their time was even up.

Finally, Joseph made the only decision he could. Before the next visiting day rolled around, he stood in line to use the phone and made a call to Madeleine.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Maddy? It's Joseph."

"Joseph. Oh God, are you all right? Is anything wrong?"

"No, Maddy, no. Everything's fine. It's just-- Well, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I just feel that-- I don't think it's a good idea for you to come to see me anymore."

She was silent for a moment.

"But why?" she finally asked, her voice both bewildered and hurt.

"It's just-- Well, it's too hard to see you here and not be able to touch you. To be near you, but not really. And I know you hate coming here--"

"No, Joseph. God. I swear. I know I haven't been very good about it. But it's just that I felt so guilty. Now that everything's out in the open it's okay. Really. I want to see you, Joseph. I love you."

"God, Maddy, I love you, too. But I just-- I don't want you to see me like this. Like I'm some kind of common criminal. When I get out, I want us to start over like none of this ever happened. And that will be so much easier if you don't have all these memories of me in prison."

"Joseph. I-- I just don't understand. Are you mad at me?" Her voice lowered. "You know, about Larry?"

"No, darling. I swear. It's not that at all. I'm just trying to do what's best for you and for our marriage."

"Because I'm keeping the promise I made you. I told Larry we can't see each other any more, that I'm not going to make any decisions while you're still in prison. And, God, Joseph, I'm just so sorry about all that. Please don't make me stay away. Don't punish me like this."

"God, no. Madeleine, I would never do that. Look, this whole situation is my fault. And I don't want you making sacrifices for me while I'm in here. That's the only reason I don't want you to come visit. Really. We can still talk on the phone and write letters. We can stay close that way, don't you think?"

"Well, I suppose."

"So you understand, right?"

"I guess so," she said, reluctantly.

"Thank you, darling. Really, you're just the best thing that's every happened to me. I can't even begin to deserve you."

"Joseph, I'll respect your wishes. Of course. But I have to tell you that I really don't like this. It just-- Well, it worries me. Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the throbbing of his sensitive, growing breasts.

"Nothing's wrong," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. "I promise. Please don't worry. It's only three more months. It'll be over before you know it."

"I guess so. It's just--" Madeleine's voice got shaky. "I'll miss you, Joseph."

Joseph had to blink back tears. "I'll miss you, too. But I'll talk to you soon. Okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Joseph."

"I love you too, Maddy."

Joseph hung up the phone with a heavy heart. He knew he had probably just delivered the deathblow to his marriage. As much as he adored Madeleine, he also recognized her weaknesses. She was not the kind of woman who could carry on with her life independently. She needed someone to look after, a man to care for. If she couldn't shower that attention on Joseph, then she would find someone else. And that bastard Larry Gillespie was just waiting in the wings. When Madeleine got needy and lonely, he'd swoop back in and steal her away.

It killed Joseph to know that there was nothing he could do about it.

He skulked around the rest of the day in complete gloom. He kept his eyes down and his arms folded tightly over his chest. For once, he was able to ignore the lewd comments the other inmates made about his tits. He hardly even heard them he was so absorbed in his own torturous flights of imagination. He pictured Madeleine spread out on their bed, naked, her creamy skin aglow in the room's soft light, her nipples peaked, a beautiful dark rose in arousal, her shapely legs parted, her thighs open and inviting, her womanhood moist, flushed and eager.

But then his lovely fantasy took a cruel twist. With the slow-motion inevitability of a nightmare, he watched his old boss step into the frame. He was naked, hard, his middle-aged body soft through the middle. But when Madeleine saw him, she moaned and spread her legs wider for him. Her sex glinted wet with desire.

In his mind, Joseph was screaming: No! No! But the horror movie in his mind just kept going. Gillespie walked slowly, deliberately to the bed. He knelt on the mattress and climbed on top of Madeleine. He smiled over his shoulder, as if mocking Joseph, and then he mounted Madeleine with one strong thrust. It was like witnessing a sacred temple defiled, watching this over-the-hill loser with his bald spot and sagging ass start to hump away at Joseph's beautiful, young wife. But Madeleine threw her head back and howled with pleasure. She twisted and bucked and cavorted like she was an animal in heat, a response Joseph had never been able to draw out of her.

Joseph's imagination was nothing if not thorough. Gillespie and Madeleine fucked a good, long time, doing all kinds of things that Madeleine had always dismissed as perverted when she was with Joseph, until they both finally called out in climax. Joseph watched with impotent fury as his son-of-a-bitch boss pumped his wife's pussy full of his seed.

After it was over, Madeleine and her lover, both sticky and satisfied, had a good laugh at Joseph's expense.

You're a lot better than he ever was , Madeleine whispered seductively into Gillespie's ear.

Well, you know, he always was a bitch at heart. I'm surprised he could even get it up for a woman. "

They both cackled cruelly. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Joseph mentally screamed. But they didn't hear him. They were too absorbed in one another. Soon, they were going at it again like a pair of wild dogs.

This went on and on and on...

By the end of the day, Joseph had worked himself into near hysteria. He gathered his things and headed for the shower room on autopilot, immersed in his own misery. Inside, Carlos was already undressed and showering. Joseph numbly stripped and joined him. He closed his eyes and let the hot water stream over him. He could feel Carlos watching him with concern.

And, somehow, that opened the floodgates. Joseph covered his face with his hands and started to cry--great, heaving sobs that shook his whole body.

"Querido?" Carlos said.

He laid a tentative hand on Joseph's arm. Joseph cried harder. Carlos pulled him into his arms, and Joseph sobbed against his shoulder. Carlos stroked his hair, rubbed his back and let him cry it out.

When Joseph was finally calmer, Carlos pulled back, to see Joseph's face.

"Querido, what's wrong?" he asked.

""These!" Joseph grabbed his tits.

Carlos stroked his shoulder. "They'll go away. It's only a few more months."

Joseph shook his head. "But that's too long. By then, I will have lost Madeleine for good."

Carlos frowned. "Why do you say that, querido?"

Joseph swallowed hard. It was almost funny that after all the humiliations he'd suffered, after being turned into some other guy's wife, complete with his very own rack, the thing that really stung him was being a cuckolded husband.

"She has feelings for someone else," he said softly.

"Oh," Carlos said, his expression filled with sympathy.

"She said she wouldn't do anything about it until I get out of here and we can try to save our marriage," he said, a little defensively.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said, trying to look on the bright the side.

But the dejection quickly came rushing back. He sighed miserably.

"I had to tell her not to come visit anymore," he told Carlos. "I had to. I mean, how am I supposed to explain this?" He gestured to his tits. "Now she thinks I'm mad at her and refusing to see her as some kind of punishment. It's going to drive her right into his arms. I know it is. And that's not even the worst of it."

His voice quavered. It embarrassed him to get emotional like this, but he just couldn't help it. The hormones made him so sensitive.

Carlos tenderly cupped his cheek. "What's the worst part, querido?"

"I can't--" He lowered his eyes in shame. "It doesn't really matter if Madeleine breaks it off with this jerk. I won't be able to-- She'll just end up leaving me anyway, when I can't--" His voice became really small. "You know. Get it up."

"Oh, querido, I'm sure you'll be able to--"

Joseph shook his head. "No! I can't! Don't you understand? No matter what I think about, no matter how much I fantasize, it just hangs there. My dick is dead, Carlos."

Carlos rubbed his back to comfort him. "No, querido. No. Don't say that. It's just that shit Gus is giving you, the woman's hormones. It's getting in the way of your man's desires. And he never touches you, never arouses you. He won't let you touch yourself. What man wouldn't have trouble getting hard if he was never touched?"

"Really?"

Carlos nodded. "Absolutely. I bet if you had the right kind of-- you know, attention you would respond, even now while you're still on that junk."

"You think?"

"Oh, yeah, querido. I do." Carlos hesitated a moment. "Let me help you?"

Joseph looked around nervously. "I don't know."

Since that day Smitty and his hoodlums had surprised them in the shower, they'd been much more careful. Oh, sure, they still looked at each other. A lot. They just didn't touch. They couldn't afford to get distracted and end up vulnerable like that again. And then there were Gus' rules.

"I'm not supposed to--" Joseph looked down at his limp cock. "You know, have it touched."

"Okay. Then I won't. But I can still make you feel good," Carlos said. "Trust me."

He reached for the soap and worked up some lather.

"Can I wash them for you?" he asked, looking longingly at Joseph's breasts.

Joseph felt a hot stab of desire in his belly. At the same, though, he also felt an uncomfortable prickle of shame, even though this was Carlos, and Carlos was the only person in the entire prison--hell, probably the whole damned world--who didn't make him feel like a freak about growing tits. The problem was that having his breasts touched-- well, the truth was that it did give Joseph a sexual feeling, just as if he were an actual woman. And that was more dismaying that he could possibly ever say.

Somehow, Carlos seemed to understand. He gently touched Joseph's face and ran his thumb tenderly along his cheek.

"It's okay for it to feel good," he said. "It doesn't mean anything bad about you."

He kissed Joseph's neck, and then he bit gently, worrying the place with his tongue. Joseph couldn't help moaning with pleasure.

"Please," Carlos said. "Please let me."

Joseph nodded silently. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, in anticipation. And when he felt Carlos' hands on his breasts, he gasped out loud. The sensation was even more intense than he could have imagined. Carlos palmed his breasts and then skimmed his fingers over Joseph's nipples. His touch was like a whisper, teasing Joseph's tender flesh, until his nipples were hard and straining. Then Carlos pinched them, alternating first one and then the other, but it wasn't the least bit like the way Gus twisted and pawed and abused his poor nipples. Carlos' wicked, talented fingers made his breasts ache for more. His touch sent a trail of sparks that burned all the way down to Joseph's cock, and he began to harden.

"I know you don't want them," Carlos whispered in his ear. "But they're so beautiful. You're so beautiful."

Joseph's eyes flew open. Carlos was staring at his body with the hungriest expression Joseph had ever seen on anybody's face. Carlos' eyes were unfathomably dark, as if his desire went too deep to see the bottom of it. In fact, Carlos' whole body vibrated with need. That knowledge sent thrilling little shivers down Joseph's spine.

And he finally had the answer to the question that had been plaguing him since he first started to grow breasts: How in God's name did women stand being looked at like this? And now he understood. Because the looking didn't have to be the way it was with Gus and Smitty and all the rest of the animals. It could be like this. It could make you feel this powerful, like you were the very center of the universe, because someone saw everything he had ever desired in the soft, milky texture of your bare skin.

Joseph's cock, fully erect now, pulsed and throbbed with excitement. This was not something he'd experienced before. Madeleine had been too shy to do anything more than sneak peaks at him when they were naked together. Even the most liberated women he'd ever had sex with--the ones who had no problem asking for what they wanted, who liked to watch while he touched himself--they hadn't made him feel like this. A woman's gaze just wasn't the same as a man's. No woman's eyes had ever made Joseph so desperate to be possessed.

Carlos moved one hand down to Joseph's hip and continued to fondle his breasts with the other. He traced his thumb along the triangle where hip met thigh. Joseph's flushed, needy cock bobbed eagerly, as if trying to get Carlos' attention. Although that was hardly necessary. Carlos was staring at Joseph's erection with predatory hunger.

"Let me," he said, very softly. "Let me suck you."

Carlos looked up, into Joseph's eyes, and the force of that gaze made Joseph suddenly light-headed. His cock got harder, and his breasts ached with want. He could barely breathe. In his mind, he could see it--see Carlos dropping to his knees, see his cock sliding in and out of Carlos' sweet, wet mouth, see his hands stroking through Carlos' thick, dark hair, see himself coming in rapturous waves. And then he saw himself pulling Carlos to his feet after it was over, turning around to face the wall, spreading his legs, beckoning to Carlos, inviting him to--

It surprised Joseph what an appealing fantasy it was. No, it was more than that. It was exactly what would happen if he let Carlos suck him off. Because there was no way he would ever take advantage of Carlos the way Gus took advantage of him. He couldn't just take his own pleasure and leave Carlos unsatisfied. Of course, he would reciprocate. And somehow, Joseph knew he wouldn't end up blowing him. Because what he really, secretly wanted, way down deep in his heart, was for Carlos to--

God, he wanted to get fucked!

Joseph's whole body trembled. He'd never wanted it before. Never. And he couldn't afford to start now. His marriage was already on the ropes. What if he actually got Madeleine back, and they were in bed together, and he found himself thinking about-- wanting-- wishing he was with--

No. No!

Joseph took a panicked step back.

Carlos looked startled. And hurt. "What's wrong, querido?"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Joseph turned off the water and grabbed his towel. His hands shook as he dried himself off. He couldn't look at Carlos. He was afraid to see the disappointment in his face. He was afraid that things had somehow changed between them.

They stood side-by-side in the locker area and dressed. The flood of fear had killed Joseph's erection, and he was able to get the tuck back on without too much discomfort. He finally grew brave enough to sneak a look at Carlos out of the corner of his eye. He was calmly buttoning his shirt, as if nothing was wrong. But somehow, Joseph wasn't content to leave it at that. He had to make sure.

"I really am sorry, Carlos," he said, softly, urgently. "I wish I could. I just-- Please, don't hate me."

Carlos turned, clearly startled. "Oh, querido," he said. "I understand. If he ever found out--" Carlos shivered. "I don't want him to hurt you because of something we did together." He kissed Joseph affectionately on the cheek, and whispered in his ear. "Besides, I could never hate you."

Joseph swallowed hard. "Thanks," he said, a little teary.

Carlos smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Joseph returned the smile and watched Carlos walk away. He ignored a niggling sense of shame that he'd let Carlos believe it was his fear of Gus that had stopped him, and not his own fear of what he might become. He finished getting dressed and forced himself to push it all away, the guilt, the memory of Carlos' touch, how much he had wanted it. He wouldn't think of it again.

This was how he got through prison, after all. By forgetting.

In his sixth month in prison, Joseph reached his final bust size. By then, he had learned one indisputable truth: having breasts made everything more complicated.

Joseph didn't even have particularly large breasts. While he'd been growing them, he'd had nightmares of waking up one morning with jugs that would take a mid-alphabet-sized bra cup to hold. Thankfully, he had maxxed out at a modest--but respectable--36B. He couldn't imagine how women with really huge tits got any peace at all.

Joseph's new body turned Gus into a schizophrenic wreck. On the one hand, he was always after Joseph to show off his rack. He'd given Joseph padded bras and pushup bras, plunging bras and bras with center cutouts that made his nipples obscenely visible beneath the thin cotton of his clothes. He insisted that Joseph leave the top three buttons of his shirt undone, so there was always quite a bit of cleavage on display.

If the point of all this was to attract the drooling attention of every man in the prison, then it was a complete success. No one ever looked Joseph in the eye anymore. They all stared at his chest like schoolboys, utterly fascinated, as if they'd never seen a pair of boobs before. Sometimes they would actually get into jostling matches, vying with one another to stand next to Joseph just so they could look down his shirt. If Joseph could have charged admission to all the men who loitered outside his cell with their mouths hanging open, watching him put on his bra in the morning, he would have amassed quite a tidy sum with which to rebuild his life with Madeleine.

It all drove Gus wild with jealousy. He kept a closer eye on Joseph than ever. Whenever the horny oglers got too close, he busted heads. But the worst part was how frantic and possessive he became during sex. He practically consumed Joseph's tits whenever he was fucking him, leaving them sensitive and sore all the time. At times, Gus seemed to enjoy them almost more than he enjoyed Joseph's pussy, which was really saying something.

He would grab and rub and slurp on Joseph's tits, and say: "Who owns you? Tell you me who owns you!"

And Joseph would answer with the deepest sense of shame, "You do, sir. You own me."

But how his tits responded to Gus' rough pawing was even more humiliating, how they tingled, how his nipples hardened and throbbed and ached to be touched. The sad fact was that not all Joseph's moans of pleasure were faked.

Unfortunately, Gus wasn't the only one who wanted to own Joseph's breasts. They drove Smitty and his gang practically insane. If Joseph had thought they were harassing him before, it was nothing compared to how determined they became after his figure developed. No matter how hard Joseph tried to avoid and deflect their groping hands, one of them was always pinching his ass or copping a feel of his tits. It was like they were dogs in heat or something, because they always seemed to be hard. Every time Joseph turned around, they were rubbing against his body, trying to get off.

Now that Gus' jealousy had turned totally psychotic, Joseph was more hesitant than ever to bring up the issue with him. But it was really getting to be a problem. He left work detail pretty much every day with sore tits and bruised butt cheeks from his tormentors' rough handling.

In the evening, Joseph went to take his shower as usual. Unfortunately, Carlos wasn't able to join him. He was doing some kind of errand for Ray. When Joseph asked him about it, Carlos was unusually cryptic. Ray had a reputation for being one of the prison's major drug dealers, and Joseph was worried that he'd gotten Carlos mixed up in his illegal business dealings. Carlos could get hurt or caught, and Joseph didn't want to see him end up in the infirmary or the hole.

Joseph finished his shower and dried off. He was still applying his body lotion when Smitty and his hoodlums burst into the shower room. Joseph frantically grabbed for his clothes, but Smitty was too fast for him. He scooped them up and smiled evilly at Joseph.

"Is this what you're looking for, Princess?" he taunted, as he tossed Joseph's clothes out of reach.

"Look, just let me go, and I won't tell Gus."

Smitty pursed his lips, as if he were considering the offer. "Tempting. Very tempting," he said. "But the thing is, Princess, I'm wondering why you haven't already told him. I mean, we do everything but throw you down on the floor and fuck you during work detail, and Mattison hasn't got in my face once about it. And the only possible reason is because he doesn't know. So I'm guessing you don't want him to know. 'Cause the way I hear it he's got quite a mean streak when he's jealous. Isn't that right, Sunshine?"

Joseph swallowed hard. He knew he should bluff or something, but he could feel the blood leaving his face, his hands shaking, giving everything away.

Smitty smiled. "Yeah. That's what I thought. So this is the way it's going to be, Princess. We're going to fuck you, and you're going to cooperate. And if you're real nice and satisfy us real good, we don't breathe a word about it. You go on back to your husband like nothing happened."

"And then what?" Joseph asked.

Smitty reached out and lightly ran his thumb over the soft skin of Joseph's breast. "Then we'll have-- well, an arrangement I guess you could call it. You take care of us whenever we want, and we don't get you into trouble with your husband. How does that sound, Princess?"

Joseph lowered his eyes and nodded his head. When he thought he had Smitty off guard, he made a quick break for the door. He could see the light coming in from the hall, and he really thought for a moment that he was going to make it. But then a steel grip wrapped around his wrist and swung him violently around. It was Haynes

"You little bitch!" he yelled.

He hurled Joseph across the room, toward the back of the shower. Smitty caught him, and threw him up against the wall.

"Okay, Princess, you want to play rough? We can play rough."

Smitty pressed his body against Joseph's, forcing him back against the tile. He kissed him roughly, shoving his tongue halfway down his throat, making Joseph gag.

Smitty pulled back. "This is going to be fun," he said.

"You're going to die for this!" Joseph yelled, as he struggled frantically.

"Shut up, bitch."

Smitty threw him down onto the floor.

"Hold him," he told his henchman.

Haynes and the Nazi dropped to the floor beside Joseph. Haynes held his arms. The Nazi grabbed his ankles. Gus picked up the lotion and squirted some into his hands.

"I've waited a long time for this," he told Joseph.

Smitty knelt down on the floor beside Joseph and unceremoniously grabbed his tits. He roughly squeezed and fondled them in the guise of rubbing on the lotion.

"Ow!" Joseph yelled. "Get your fucking hands off me."

"Oh, God," Smitty said to his cronies. "You wouldn't believe how firm his titties are. Real, real nice."

Joseph squirmed and kicked and did everything he could think of to fight his way free.

"Get off me!" he screamed.

"I'm gonna love playing with your juicy little titties while I fuck your pussy raw," Smitty said.

Haynes laughed. "Me, too."

"Yeah," the Nazi said.

"No!" Joseph struggled frantically.

Smitty stood up, lowered his zipper and took out his hard cock.

"Turn him over," he said to Haynes and the Nazi.

"No! Help! Somebody help me!" Joseph called out desperately.

"Shut up, bitch. No one's coming," Smitty said.

Despite Joseph's frenzied thrashing, Haynes and the Nazi had little trouble turning him over. They were just so much stronger than he was. Joseph started to cry. He couldn't help it. He'd seen what had happened to that other man they'd raped in the shower. The prison doctors had finally let him out of the infirmary, but he still walked with a limp. The word was that he had to use a colostomy bag to go to the bathroom.

And now they were going to do the same thing to Joseph. Tears streamed down his face.

"Get ready for the ride of your life, Princess." Smitty cackled cruelly.

He dropped to his knees. Joseph squeezed his eyes tightly shut and waited in sick suspense for the rape to begin. But then there was a roar in the room unlike anything Joseph had ever heard.

"GET THE FUCK OFF HER!" Gus bellowed.

Joseph's heart stopped and started again. Thank you, God. Thank you, he prayed. Gus grabbed Smitty by the scruff of the neck and hurled him across the room. His head hit the hard tile with a sharp crack, and Joseph felt almost giddy with delight. Take that, you prick, he thought. Gus yanked Haynes and the Nazi off Joseph and flung them across the room, as if they were nothing more than rag dolls. He reached out a hand to Joseph and pulled him off the floor.

"Hey, thanks," Joseph said, almost breathless with relief. "God. Thank you so much."

"Shut up, you little whore." Gus' face was bright red. His chest heaved with exertion. And fury.

Joseph stared at his husband, in shock. "No. Please. Sir. It wasn't like that. They attacked me. I swear!"

Gus backhanded him. The force of the blow snapped Joseph's head to the side.

"I told you to shut up!" Gus yelled at him.

He grabbed Joseph by the arm and yanked him toward the door. Joseph was still naked. But Gus wouldn't stop, wouldn't let him get dressed. He dragged Joseph all the way back to their cell. The perverts, of course, lined up to watch. They got to see Joseph's bare titties and witness the entertaining spectacle of a domestic dispute. It was their lucky day.

Back at the cell, Gus threw Joseph onto the bunk. Joseph was terrified. He'd never seen Gus like this before. His cheek felt like it was on fire. God, Gus had hit him hard. It truly shocked him. As weird as it might seem, Joseph had faithfully believed that Gus would never beat him.

"They attacked me. I swear," Joseph begged pitifully.

"Then you asked for it."

"I didn't!"

"Don't you dare lie to me, you little bitch! I've seen you. Seen what you wear. How you walk around here showing off your body like some cheap hooker. I will not stand for that out of my wife."

Joseph stared at his husband in disbelief. "But you wanted--"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it. What I want is for you to remember who you belong to, young lady." He walked menacingly over to the bunk and yanked Joseph to his feet. "Who these belong to." He squeezed Joseph's breasts cruelly "And this." He slapped Joseph sharply across the ass. "And everything. You're all mine. Mine. Don't you ever forget it. 'Cause if I ever find out you've been unfaithful to me, I'll rip these off with my bare hands." He grabbed Joseph's balls and twisted so hard Joseph's eyes watered. "You understand me, girl?"

Joseph nodded, in too much pain to speak.

"Good. Now, put this back on." He threw the tuck in Joseph's face. "And get ready for bed. Tonight, I'm going to teach real good, show you just who that pussy belongs to."

Gus vaulted up onto the top bunk and picked up the copy of "Hot Twats" he'd been thumbing through. Joseph sank down on the edge of his bunk. His hands shook as he slipped on the tuck and worked it up his legs. Handling his injured balls while he maneuvered it into place was agonizing, but he was too terrified of Gus right now to beg for permission to leave it off. He pulled back the blanket and got into bed. He dipped his fingers into the jar of Vaseline that sat next to the bunk and furtively prepared himself under the covers, the way he always did for his husband's pleasure. When he was finished, he lay with his eyes closed, his stomach clenched, dreading the inevitable.

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