Message-ID: <35180asstr$1013314205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Return-Path: <news@slb7.atl.mindspring.net>
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: "DexxJones" <dexedrene@mindspring.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <a448dp$29p$1@slb7.atl.mindspring.net>
X-Server-Date: 9 Feb 2002 22:38:49 GMT
X-Priority: 3
X-MSMail-Priority: Normal
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2600.0000
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 9 Feb 2002 17:54:04 -0500
Subject: {ASSM} Undertow- TRUE LIFE PRISON story- Chapter 003
Date: Sat,  9 Feb 2002 23:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/35180>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: hecate, newsman

32 chapters
NEW CHAPTERS DAILY:
http://www.dexxjones.com

Chapter 003- Meet the Family

In prosperity no altars smoke.
---Italian Proverb

"Do I know you?" Vito said, wondering if she was some distant relative he
hadn't met- maybe from the old country. But that wasn't possible- she had no
accent.

"Yes and no." Silvia said.

Suddenly her tone turned commanding as she barked at the guard "You- yeah
you- eggplant. Go find something to do."

The guard looked defiant for a moment, but said nothing and quickly left the
room, happy to put as much distance between himself and the nasty old woman
as he could.

Vito had a half-smile on his face as he watched the guard leave. Whoever
this old bitch was, she was fun to watch. He turned back to her, "So who are
you?"

"You really can't figure it out?" she smiled, "I would hope you were a
smarter boy than that. I hope you are at least smarter than Johnny was..."

Now he got it. This had to be the old woman Johnny was constantly talking
about- his stepmother or whatever. Jaime's grandmother.

She was a legend in mob circles. Married to one of the more notorious
mobsters in history, Silvia had been rumored to be the real brains behind
her husband, despite her housecoat and gravy pot.

Vito had even heard that the old bat had ordered a hit on her own son over a
real estate deal gone bad in the sixties. Either way, he needed to be very
careful how he dealt with her.

"I'm real sorry about Johnny," Vito said, wondering if she wanted him to
lead the Italians in seeking revenge

"He would have died one way or another," Silvia said ominously, "I don't
care about him. He was nothing but the product of my husband's castaway
seed. Like a wild weed managing to take root, and just as unimportant to
 me."

"I see." Vito said, not knowing how to proceed.

"You are wondering why I am here to see you." She smiled, but not sweetly

"It did cross my mind." Vito said tactfully, "If you aren't mad at what
happened to Fat-knuckles, then why are you here?"

She looked at him as if he might be stupid.

Then he got it, "Jaime." Vito said simply

"You learn quick." She cackled, "Yes. I am here about Jaime. Johnny told me
all about your little arrangement."

Vito felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. What if she didn't approve
of Jaime's perverted ways and maybe even thought he was forcing Jaime into
sex? Old women didn't tend to make much sense where sex matters were
concerned. Vito could just picture her in denial about Jaime's sexuality,
and looking for somebody to blame.

"You can relax." She said, obviously enjoying his discomfort "I know my
grandson."

"Ok, so what? You want to make sure I will look after the kid?" Vito said

"Now we are getting somewhere." Silvia said, "I may be an old bird, but I
can still have quite an influence on your future- IF you keep Jaime in
 line."

"Well no worries there," Vito said, "I like the kid, actually."

"So I have heard." Silvia said, "But that's REAL reason I am here. Don't let
my appearance fool you kid. I know the way men act. My Johnny was here a
long time ago, but I already knew male nature even before that.

"What do you mean?" Vito said, "Male nature?" she sounded just like her
harebrained grandson.

***

Troy walked right past Chico and did a double take as he caught site of the
Latino boy just as he was passing the couch.

"Dude, I was just gone for a few minutes." Troy said, "You trying to pussy
out of our workout?"

Chico cleared his throat, "No, I got pushed out of the way." It was
humiliating to admit, but his brief conversation with his cousin had left
him too numb to pretend life was anything other than what it was.

"What do you mean 'pushed out of the way'?" Troy said, looking over to the
bench and pointing his finger, "By them?"

Chico realized that the day still had more unpleasantness in store for him
yet, "Man it ain't important. What am I to them, but a scum punk right? I
would have done the same thing as they did back in the day." That truth didn
't make him feel any better.

Troy was more distressed by the sad expression on Chico's face than about
the bench, but of course would focus on what he knew- territory, "Fuck that.
Come on." He said, as he moved toward the weight bench with Chico
reluctantly lagging behind him.

Boo had just finished his reps and Mark was now taking his turn when Troy
approached.

"Afternoon fellas." Troy said in a tone that was slightly to the left of
friendly, "Seems we got some wires crossed here."

Mark continued to press the weight, and said, as he blew out, "Wait your
turn."

"You see?" Troy said taking another step forward, "That's just what I'm
talking about. I was taking my turn and stepped out of the gym for a second.
When I come back, you guys have pushed us out of the way, and that ain't
acceptable."

"Cry me a river." Mark said, continuing his reps

"I don't think you get me." Troy said, his voice turning to steel,

"I get you." Mark said, "I just don't give a fuck. You snooze you lose
 dude."

"Then we have a problem." Troy said, feeling his anger spike considerably

Mark put the weight in the holster and sat up, "So what are you gonna do
about it huh?"

Boo looked at Mugsy with concern. Mugsy looked back at him with hostility,
but it was missed by the black kid because Mugsy's eyes were wandering
again.

"Mark, chill out." Mugsy said, "Troy is a friend of ours."

"Oh yeah?" Mark said, "Well he ain't no friend of mine." He stood up
aggressively and put his face right into Troy's, "You wanna do something?"

"Yo man shut it down." Boo said, "Teddy said he don't want no bullshit."

"Fuck you pussy," Mark said to Boo

Mugsy shrugged at Boo, as if to say, 'well we tried,'

"You got something to say?" Mark pushed Troy, "Huh? Huh? Got something to
say?"

Mark wasn't able to push him twice.

***

Trevor didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like a robot. Even
suicide, a gift he had promised to himself seemed to be another fantasy
denied him.

He had never been so afraid of a person as he was of Oscar. The older Latino
had purchased him a few days before, and Trevor had assumed he wanted what
everybody else had: a poke at the skinhead punk.

But compared to what had happened, sex would have actually been preferable
to what Oscar put him through. For three solid days, Oscar had inflicted
terrible pain on the young skinhead.

It began minutes after Trevor had been delivered to his cell.

"We have purchased you." Oscar had said, "Do you know what that means?"

Trevor had hung his head in shame. Of course he knew. He was going to be
trying a different flavor of homosexual horrors.

Oscar had immediately grabbed his thin arm and twisted it painfully behind
his back, causing Trevor to drop to his knees. There was a lit candle in the
cell in a glass jar. That alone told Trevor that this guy was powerful. Any
glass was strictly forbidden in the prison and a lit candle in full view of
anybody passing was unheard of.

Oscar had brought Trevor's hand to that candle and held his finger there
until the boy screamed in pain. A huge blister formed finger directly after
that.

As Trevor sat on the bunk, blowing on his finger in a useless attempt to
calm the throbbing agony on his hand, Oscar had launched into one of his
lectures. Over those three days, Trevor would hear many of them.

"You belong to us now which means that you are an item. A possession with as
much rights as my pillow or spoon." Oscar said, "

And so began a period of extreme agony for the young skin. Trevor couldn't
even bring himself to think about it, even if the aftereffects would stay
with him for a lifetime.

Whatever the new guy Carlos would do to him could not be as bad as Oscar, he
thought as he obediently followed his new owner out of the cell.

Oscar was finally alone and took that time to reminisce about the pain he
had inflicted upon Trevor. In a rare moment of what he considered to be
weakness, he hung a curtain over his door and lay on his bed to masturbate
to every last detail.

He could still hear Trevor's screams as his hand moved swiftly on his hard
cock.

***

Zack had no idea what day it was. He was lying in his cell, enjoying a
moment of silence. These moments had begun to occur more and more often, as
the novelty of him had worn off.

He had been told that there was a fresh batch of punks coming tomorrow in
something they called the "mud check" but far from being happy about it, he
was nervous.

What would happen to him now that he was no longer the new kid on the
cellblock? He had heard rumors that grade-b punks were rented to a subclass
of customer after their "trying out" period.

The idea that there might be an even worse class of paying customer kept the
young man from being able to just relax and enjoy his time alone.

The so-called heavy hitters were whispered about by some of the other punks,
and from what Zack could tell, things were probably about to get much worse
for him- as unlikely as that sounded.

But he couldn't get the image of some of those other punks out of his mind.
One day, earlier in the week, he and ten others had been rounded up and
brought to the shower for what would be his only opportunity to wash some of
the evidence of his abuse off his body since arriving at Randall.

What he had seen had burned itself into his mind and had given him
nightmares. Some of the punks had deep scars carved into their bodies, some
had what appeared to be cigarette burns and others had various telltale
signs of abuse that so far, Zack had not suffered.

One kid had a black eye, that looked infected, and another had gotten his
fingers smashed. Overall they were a sad lot, and Zack had almost wished he
hadn't showered.

The best he could hope for was to be purchased, and now, after his shower,
maybe some of the better guys wouldn't be so grossed out by him.

One of the low points of Zack's life had been when Mark left the cell and
demanded his money back because the punk was disgusting. The blacks had of
course blamed Zack and had punished him by not feeding him for a full day.

This was what life had been reduced to- hoping  he was clean enough for a
nicer rapist.

32 chapters
NEW CHAPTERS DAILY:
http://www.dexxjones.com

(C) 2002 DexxJones. All rights reserved.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+