Behind Bars: Chapter Three: Darkness

BEHIND BARS (ffff, reluc, nc, celeb, AU, prison)

CHAPTER THREE: DARKNESS

AUTHOR: Zahir al-daoud (zahir13@yahoo.com)

FEEDBACK: Please! It is the only pay received for writing these. And
feel free to offer suggestions. Can’t promise I’ll use every one,
but I’ll at least consider them (barring certain practices that just
do nothing for me at all). Besides, its the only way I’ll ever get
any better!

NOTES: This story is set in an alternate timeline, one wherein many
of the famous ladies in our world have led different lives, ending
up as either staff or inmates at a women’s prison.


DISCLAIMER: What follows is a piece of fiction. Legally, one should
consider it a parody. No comment is made or implied about the
genuine lives or personalities of the celebrities described, nor
about their orientations or tastes. It is a fantasy, pure and
simple. Do not take it seriously, please. And no, I’ve no notion how
to contact any of these people in real life.

CAST:

Famke Jansen as the Warden

Katie Holmes as her Secretary

Gabrielle Union as a Prison Nurse

Nikki Cox as Gabrielle’s roommate

Linda Park and Eliza Dushku as Correctional Officers

Jessica Alba, Majandra Delfino and Alecia Moore (aka “Pink”) are the
Pinks, an inmate gang

Mena Suvari, Teri Hatcher, Julilanne Moore, Brittany Murphy,
Michelle Rodriguez and Renee Zellweger as new inmates

Agnes Bruckner, Liz Vassey and others are veteran inmates

***

“Thanks for the lift!”

“No problem!”

Katie Holmes considered herself lucky. The walk from the prison to
her apartment near the docks wasn’t long, but neither was it very
short. Finding someone to give her a ride to and from work was
something of a godsend. What’s more, Nurse Gabrielle Union had a
pleasant personality, so far seemed generous with her time and–even
better–showed signs of being a gossip! Better yet, she was a nurse
in the prison’s clinic.

And they lived in the same building. Katie had thought the place a
motel when she first got there. She still thought that was at least
the impetus behind the design–two stories worth of rooms
surrounding an open courtyard. With a pool, even! Not that it
mattered, really. She’d spent enough time in motel rooms that this
place felt a bit like home. There was even some deja vu as
Gabrielle’s VW bug pulled up to park, simply because the scene
reminded her of a returning to so many motels. Floodlights dotted
the space, mostly on the inner courtyard.

“Oh!” said Gabrielle suddenly, “You haven’t met my roommate yet!”

“Uh…not yet.” Katie hadn’t known Gabrielle even had a roommate.

“You’re gonna think me crazy, but the fact is I picked her up
hitch-hiking a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hitch-hiking? On this island?” It was what, three miles long?

“No! Went shopping on the mainland. Not a lot of variety at the
local stores, you know? Anyway, saw her on the highway, picked her
up. Turned out we got on like a house on fire. One thing led to
another–now she lives here.”

“Wow.” Katie was impressed, in both good and bad ways.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You got something to say?.” Katie could hear Gabrielle’s eyebrow
lift as she parked the car.

“Hey, not for me to judge…”

“Say it–you’re gonna sooner or later.”

That was true. Katie took a breath. “Well,” she began, “we do work
in a prison. That would tend to make me more careful about picking
up hitch-hikers. Not to mention letting them move in with me.” She
tried to say this lightly, because the fact was Katie also thought
Gabrielle terribly brave. Worried, but envious.

Gabrielle gave a laugh. “Don’t you worry. I can take care of
myself.”

“Okay.”

On the way into the courtyard, Katie stopped by the mailboxes. She
saw a long-expected package and quickly slipped it into her purse
before following Gabrielle, who had stopped. From the courtyard came
some splashing noises. Katie caught up and saw the source–a
stunningly pretty redhead with the kind of figure usually on display
in men’s magazines. As she stepped out of the water, every curve
glistened and moved like a dance, almost eclipsing the brilliant
smile she aimed at Gabrielle.

“Hi Honey!” The stranger had a nice voice, almost an alto. If Katie
had any doubts this was the new roommate, they soon vanished. She
and Gabrielle walked right up to each other, sharing a quick kiss on
the lips.

“Hey baby,” Gabrielle murmured.

“Missed you.”

“Funny, that’s just what I was thinking.” And they kissed again,
longer this time.

Katie coughed after a moment. The two came apart with laugh, but
kept holding hands.

“Here’s my new roommate,” proclaimed Gabrielle with pride. “Guess
you already figured that, huh?”

“I kinda got a clue.”

“Nikki, honey,” Gabrielle turned to her stunning redhead, “this is
Katie. She works me with me at the prison. Katie–this is Nikki.”

“Hi!” Nikki didn’t try to shake hands, but did offer another
brilliant smile. Both hands were still held by Gabrielle.

“Pleased to meet you.” Katie was tempted to chat, but she wanted to
open her package. Besides, Gabrielle’s eyes kept wandering over her
roommate/girlfriend, still dripping from the pool and clad in the
tiniest red bikini Katie had ever seen. Certainly, soaking wet and
clinging as it was, hardly a detail was left to the imagination.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m too tired for words. So…” She cocked
her head in the direction of the stairs, then headed away. Neither
of them tried to stop her. Gabrielle waved, though.

“Later, Katie!”

“Good night,” Nikki called out.

“Night.”

At the top of the steps, and before going into her apartment, Katie
peaked behind her. Gabrielle had her arms around the soaking wet
Nikki, and the two of them were openly necking. She didn’t seem to
mind her own clothes getting soaked in the process.

Mildly envious, she headed inside.

Once there, she lost little time in getting the long-awaited package
out of her purse and open with a penknife. Most of it was the
instructions manual, written in several languages. Katie recognized
Spanish and Japanese, as well as French. Two more were a mystery to
her. Not that it mattered. Inside a plastic sleeve the device itself
was tiny, as advertised. No larger than a matchbox, and coated with
black plastic. She held it up to the light, noting how it gave
little or no reflection.

Nice.

Reading the instructions took at least half an hour, as did
double-checking that she really understood them. After that, she dug
her camcorder out from the top of her closet for a test. The
receiving unit needed an adapter, but several were provided,
including the one that matched her model. She did all that the
instructions called for, then went to her window. With the receiving
unit on, Katie pushed the device through the drawn curtains near the
top, aiming from memory at the courtyard below. She could hear a few
splashes yet. Good. A better test, then.

Minutes later she went back to the receiving unit, then activated
playback. There, on the camcorder screen, she could see Nikki and
Gabrielle–the latter changed into a skimpy black swimsuit of her
own–swimming together. Even at this distance, and at such an
awkward angle, the digital image caught perfectly that they were
playing tag in the water. The winner evidently got a passionate kiss
from the loser.

She presumed they’d be headed indoors very soon to shed their
bikinis and start in on some other kind of relaxation. The thought
brought a smirk to her lips.

But how well the tiny digital camera worked–that brought a big
smile.

Tomorrow she’d bring camera and receiver to work.

***

The clock on the wall read a quarter past eleven. Awake after what
amounted to a nap, Teri Hatcher tried to concentrate on the future.
She was usually a night owl, needing little more than six or seven
hours of sleep. Being forced into bed each night at nine set her
internal clock off.

Eventually, she intended to get out. That road was straightforward,
if labor-intensive. Unfortunately, it was also likely to take more
time than she’d prefer. A proper appeal would require several weeks,
more likely months. Maybe more. Until then, she needed some
short-term goals to make life more comfortable. Orientation had
pointed the way to that easily enough. As a newcomer to Santa
Fernanda, she was housed in the Dorms–long rooms holding over
twenty inmates, all sharing a communal toilet and with lights out at
nine. But there were two other kinds of housing here.
One–solitary–was punishment. Hour after hour of dark and silence.
No, thank you. Yet the possibility of a semi-private cell–the kind
on the upper stories, each holding no more than three inmates–that
was something else. Lights out at 10:30 instead of nine. Sharing a
bathroom with two instead of nineteen. Teri thought that would make
an excellent short-term goal, at least until the appeal was
underway.

But how to earn that privelege? That was the rub. Although she was
certain it a matter of leverage, the details remained elusive. For
now. Only for now.

Minutes went by and she couldn’t seem to make herself sleep. At last
she decided to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t that she felt the need,
but it broke up the monotony to at least move.

At the far end of the dorm was an open passage that led to both
showers and bathroom stalls. By now her eyes were well-adapted to
the dim light, enough to make out shapes anyway. She rose as quietly
as possible, made her way across the length of the room. Along the
way, she had the sense something–exactly what she couldn’t say–but
something was different.

Her first hint was just before she reached the bathroom. A word, so
something like it, echoing slightly from the tile ahead. Then
answered by…what? A laugh maybe?

Making sure her movements were now as slow as they were silent, she
crept forward. Bare feet on concrete couldn’t make much sound, but
so intensely was she listening her own footfalls seemed far too
audible for comfort. Yet forward she moved, and after maybe two
entire feet the voices–for voices they were–grew more distinct.
Not surprisingly, she didn’t recognize them. Under the
circumstances, if she had that would be the greater shock. All she
could do now was pay attention. From what she heard, perhaps she
could learn something. With a little bit of luck, it would prove
useful. Either way, the practice itself could not be anything else.
Eavesdropping was a skill of great potential.

“…I don’t…”

“Then why don’t you stop?”

Different voices. Both female of course. The first was almost
whispered, while the second–she mocked the first.

“Because…” Silence.

“Yes? Because what?”

Another silence. But no–there were sounds, Teri realized. A grunt
for one thing, oddly high-pitched. Plus a guttural hum at
practically the same moment. It reminded Teri of the sound she’d
heard her husband make. He’d adored really fine, as in expensive,
wines. Sipping from glass he’d just poured himself, his eyes would
close and a sound very like that coming from the bathroom would come
from him. Even the wine which killed him had elicited that reaction.
Only this sound was actually longer, more drawn out, and on top of
it came a small gasp and a snort of laughter.

Four. There were four in the bathroom.

Teri suspected she should probably retreat now. Certainly that would
be the safer course. Yet she had never been one to avoid risk, in
fact prided herself on a willingness to dare. How else to win the
big prize? Luck? Without it, nothing could ever happen, true. But
without taking advantage of luck, without being ready for it, you
might as well not get any. She continued to inch forward.

“…please…!”

“Don’t worry” whispered a new voice–the grunting one? Or the one
making the savoring sound? “We won’t stop.”

“…but…no…I…OH!” This last became a low moan.

More sounds followed–made by voices but not by any definition
words. The voice that seemed to be whispering pleas began to make a
series of high-pitched gasps to a slowly growing pace. But even
those gasps began to be muffled after awhile. Meanwhile, two other
voices began to hum–not a tune at all but the same savoring sound
as before. Fiercer, though. Hungry. As if the ones making these
sounds were not wine-tasters revelling in a fine bouquet, but
panthers enjoying the taste of blood. And the throaty laughter
again, this time also muffled.

By now Teri had reached the actual tile partition, a wall really.
And inching her head as slowly as possible, she peered around the
corner.

A single flourescent light offered illumination of the scene. Four
women were there, as she’d surmised. Three were quite young, no more
than twenty five or less. One had very short red hair, like bright
auburn. A second was brunette, with an hourglass figure. Third was a
muscular short young woman with bleached hair that would probably
reach her collar if left to simply hang instead of teased.

The Pinks.

Like their captive, all three were naked. Their captive, the fourth
woman, had to be ten years older than any of them but also had a
better figure. She was pinned against the wall by their weight, and
by her arms held above her head. The shapely brunette had one of
their captive’s breasts in her mouth, sucking and maybe even biting.
Given the way the object of her attention was shuddering it seemed
likely, but then the redhead’s attentions might also be responsible.
She was kneeling, one hand clasping the older woman’s free nipple in
between thumb and forefinger. Her other hand was scratching on the
inside of the woman’s thighs, leaving marks, with the redhead’s
tongue flicked against her navel. Meanwhile, the tough looking girl
held those arms above her head, while kissing her on the mouth. As
the captive moaned, the girl kissing her continued to chuckle
and–as Teri could clearly see, even from here–thrust her tongue
against the older’s woman’s own.

“Damn,” said the redhead, voice low, “you are dripping.” By now her
attentions had moved lower. Both hands were making scratches on the
poor woman’s thighs, leaving red marks. She stopped only to suddenly
grab both thighs, forcing them apart. “Just dripping” she repeated.

Against the mouth of the tough-looking girl, the captive woman
whimpered. Each hand was held above her head by a different Pink,
their other hands holding one of her breasts. The shapely brunette
grunted, working her mouth against the right nipple, while its twin
was pinched by the tough-looking girl.

Then the redhead leaned forward, putting her face into the captive’s
crotch. From the angle of her head, what she was doing was obvious,
even without the faint sucking sounds echoing against the tile.

Now Teri was trembling, especially as she noted little details, like
the growing flush on the captive woman’s throat and upper chest.
Despite the way she was being used, the genuine pain she must be
feeling and even though tears were dripping from her eyes, what was
happening excited her. Even without the pre-orgasmic flush, the way
she moved–in rhythm with her tormentors–spoke volumes. However
this situation began, and whatever else this captive woman might be
feelings–shame, guilt, pain–she was also experiencing a great deal
of pleasure.

Enough. More than enough.

Slowly, Teri crept back to her own bunk. This wasn’t something she’d
wanted to know. And the images she now had in her head were ones she
wanted to forget. She retreated from the grunting and slurping
sounds as quickly as she dared.

Once back under the covers, she tried not to think about the scene
she just witnessed. She didn’t like being afraid. It had been years
since she’d had to be–inconvenienced, yes. Faced with
unpleasantness she wanted to avoid, certainly. Like going to prison
for killing her husband, which was a crimp in all sorts of plans.
But she hadn’t been afraid. Not genuinely frightened. Until now. And
she didn’t want to dwell on it. Yet lying in bed in the dark, she
couldn’t help thinking about what she’d seen.

Sleep didn’t come for a long time. Not until the footfalls of four
women returning to their beds made her heart beat faster. The
captive girl was actually tucked into her cot by the other three,
each of them kissing her good night. Low shuddering sobs from her
was the last sound Teri remembered that night.

TO BE CONTINUED

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END