I had been a typical seventeen year old. My mother and her partner Kelly did the best they could to raise me right. Kelly and Mom have been together since before I was born. I never knew who my sperm donor was but Mom & Mo’mom (as I called Kelly) gave me more love and affection than any child could want. Nope it wasn’t their fault, I was just a bit too hardheaded and willful at times. Ok I admit it. I was spoiled. I liked to do my own thing but I never hurt anyone. Not until that night. Not until the night that changed my entire life and lead me to this place.
All I wanted to do was get some beer. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know – I’m too young but hey, I’ve always looked older. Hell, I’ve been getting into clubs since I was fifteen. For some reason this day, however, none of my usual resources pulled through for me. I had broken up with my girlfriend of two years earlier that day and just wanted to drown my sorrows. To tell the truth I was somewhat relieved that it was over, but the bitch cheated on me with someone I considered my friend. I was more upset about losing my friend than losing my girlfriend. After all, you know what they say, “Pussy comes and goes, but real friends are forever.”
Walking into the convenience store that night, I figured I could just boost a six-pack. The store was packed so who would notice? As soon as I started out the door, the clerk starts yelling for me to stop. I knew I was busted and tried to make a run for it. I made it to my car and would have made a clean get away if it had not been for the lil old lady walking from the pumps. I swerved trying not to hit her instead slammed into a parked Buick. There had been an off duty cop in the store who came outside trying to get me to stop. Man, why didn’t I stop? I guess I panicked and hit the gas. The cop goes bouncing up on the hood.
I was convicted for attempted murder during the commission of a crime. The judge threw the book at me even though it was my first offence. Mom and Mo’mom cried their hearts out when the verdict was read. Me? I was just numb. I couldn’t believe it was all happening.
As I stood shivering, being strip searched and deloused for my admittance into the Metro State Prison for Women reality came crashing in with a vengeance. The clanging of the bars closing behind me was the most final, heartbreaking, sound I had ever heard. Ten years without the possibility of parole. Oh my god ten years. What am I going to do? How can I survive?
Life on the inside took a lot of getting use to. I had three cellmates – Janice, a former military officer serving 10 - 15 years for poisoning her lover after finding out that she was still sleeping with her ex husband. Rachel, a former prostitute serving out a life sentence for murdering another hooker; and Chris another lifer.
Chris was serving two consecutive life sentences for premeditated murder. I never heard the details but it was said that she would have gotten the death penalty had it been allowed in Georgia at the time she was convicted.
Chris was forty-eight but did not look a day over thirty. At five eleven, she was relatively tall and built like a Mack truck. She spent her free time doing push-ups and sit-ups and running the track out in the yard. Chris was the darkest woman I had ever seen, appearing almost blue-black. A scar that ran from her temple to just below her lower lip accentuated, rather than drew away from, her flawless complexion. Her piercing black eyes bespoke of her African heritage and her slight accent put her as hailing from somewhere on the Ivory Coast. She had shoulder length jet-black hair that she kept pulled back into a tight ponytail. She rarely smiled, but when she did her lop-sided grin, framed slightly crooked teeth that gave her a mischievous air.
Chris ran D-block. She could provide almost anything. Her network of trustees, guards, and other faculty was extensive. You wanted roast duck for dinner? Chris could make it happen. Need some money on you commissary? Chris could cover you, but you had better believe there was a steep price to be paid for her services. Non-payment of a loan from Chris and you might not eat for a week. On the other hand, if the debt was large enough, pain may be involved. I watched in horror one night as Chris tortured a woman who refused to repay a two hundred dollar loan. Chris had the helpless woman on her knees methodically breaking her fingers. There was absolutely no expression on her face as she broke bone after bone of the woman’s left hand. By the time Chris reached her pinky, the poor woman had passed out. Showing no emotion, Chris slapped her until she came to, than began breaking fingers again. Yes, it was defiantly better to stay on Chris’ good side.
Though she had the run of where ever she was, Chris preferred to keep her own counsel and usually stuck close to our cell. She did not have friends, with the exception of J. She and J had been running partners since the outside and J served as her second in command.
J was a diminutive woman standing less than five feet tall. She possessed a sinewy body that she religiously maintained through daily workouts. While short in stature, however, J was highly impressive in her knowledge of all things criminal. She had been a cop and was studying law before being locked up for embezzling over two million dollars from several businesses. She should have been sent to a featherweight federal penitentiary but instead she requested she be sent with her friend to Metro. She was funny, articulate, and the only person that ever made Chris laugh. She was due to be released in a few years and it was said that she had the money she had embezzled stashed away waiting the day.
J had a steady lady that she kept, while Chris rarely held onto one for more than a few weeks. The known lesbians and some of the jailhouse posers stood in line to be Chris’ chick of the moment. It was a boost in the social status of any woman to be Chris’ girlfriend, even briefly and the competition was fierce. Many fights had broken out as women jockeyed for Chris’s attention.
Time passes as it inevitably does and I settled in to the routine of life inside. My eighteenth birthday came and went without much fanfare. Mo’mom and Mom came to see me each week and sent care packages. At least twice a month my cellmates and I would gather around a festively wrapped box and partake of all manner of goodies. Homemade brownies, cookies, and candy were staples in our cell.
I always gave Chris 1st choice of whatever I had received and she in turn provided me with protection from some of the harsher elements of prison life. She treated me like her baby sister. I guess I got comfortable thinking I was safe so when it happened I didn’t see it coming.
I had been granted permission to continue my education and was taking college credit classes in the prison library. While coming back from the library, I was attacked by three inmates. They dragged me into a service closet and raped me. I fought them off as long as I could but eventually they got what they wanted. After they finished and left I tried to drag myself back to my cell. Bleeding and barely conscious I slowly made my way toward D-block.
Janice was the first to see me. Her military training must have kicked in cause the next thing I knew she had me stretched out on a bench asking me questions like a paramedic and yelling for the guards. I must have passed out because when I woke up I was in the infirmary.
I never knew that women could do things like this to each other. When you thought of rape you thought of a man forcing a woman, not a woman forcing another woman. I just could not wrap my mind around it. Chris was the first to come visit me a few days after I was admitted. She brought a beautiful purple orchid and placed it on my bedside table.
“Can you tell me what happened? Do you know who it was?” Chris inquired gently after a moment.
In a halting voice, I told her everything I could remember. I guess my mind had already started the blocking process cause there were some things that I could not recall. I only recognized one of the women, though I did not know her name. She was a cook in the prison kitchen. I only recognized her because Chris had arranged a special dinner for my birthday and she had been the server. I saw Chris’s jaw tighten and a glint in her eye that I did not want to recognize. When I began to cry, Chris gently put her arms around me. Abandoning myself in my grief, I allowed the touch. Murmuring endearments, Chris gently rubbed my back. It felt so comfortable, so right to be in her arms. Blearily, I wrapped my arms around her neck. Somehow, our lips touched and we sank into a kiss.
It was not a kiss of passion or desire. I needed to know that I could still be touched and I knew that Chris would not push me. She was so gentle, rubbing my back, caressing my hair. I felt safe for the first time in days. As we separated, Chris looked deeply into my eyes. There was a jolt at the realization that there was more than friendship between us. Though it was not something that we could explore right then, we knew it was there.
Whispering that she had to leave Chris turned, “Rest your self and get better, Baby Girl. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
Still feeling shook up from our kiss I could not reply and simply nodded as she left the infirmary.
Chris came to see me daily, though the kiss was never repeated. She brought me flowers and small gifts. My favorite was a small metal sculpture of two people, one with an arm protectively around the other, on a swing. When you push them, they would sway back and forth. She also brought my mail. Mo’mom had written about the new kitchen that she and mom had picked out and were attempting to install themselves. I never told them about what happened. There was no need to put them through that.
Gossip travels at lightening speed in prison and there are precious few secrets to be kept. Therefore, word of three mysterious deaths filtered to me almost immediately. One was accidentally burned to death by hot grease while working in the prison kitchen. The two others were found in their cell. One’s throat had been cut and the other had apparently hung herself. They were officially ruled a murder/suicide. I did not have to speculate as to the identities. Feelings of remorse coursed through me but also relief and vindication.
When I was finally released from the infirmary, Chris brought me back to my cell. Upon arrival to our cell, I was shocked. Janice and Rachel had been moved out and there were only two bunks. In the space created by the absence of the other beds a couch, carpeting and a TV had been brought in. Curtains that were tied back surrounded each bunk. It looked more like a dorm room than a cell. On my bed sat a large bouquet of Black Eyed Susan’s.
“I was tired of sleeping four deep.” Chris managed gruffly while I was taking every thing in. “This way we both can have our privacy.” I sensed there was more she wanted to say but she let the moment pass.
Life returned more or less to normal for me after a while. It was some time before I could feel comfortable enough to resume taking classes. I couldn’t force myself to pass the service closet where I was assaulted instead I took the long way through E & F blocks. After a time, however I began to notice that wherever I went there was one of Chris’s people dallying about. They would be just outside of my peripheral vision never intrusive but there in case I ever needed them. It went a long way in making me feel more secure.
The years passed and Chris and I became closer. Though we had not slept together, we were more than just friends. There was an intimacy between us that belied sexual contact. We were constant companions and shared every aspect of our lives. I could feel that Chris wanted to make the next step, as did I. The sexual tension between us became almost painful. What were once small touches became lingering caresses. Where we used to sleep in peace became nights of restlessness and longing. My body screamed for her touch.
On the eve of my twenty-first birthday, Chris and I were sharing dinner in our cell and making plans.
“Have you thought about what you want?” Chris inquired.
“I would just really like to be able to dress up, you know?” I replied. “Get out of these jeans and into a nice dress, maybe some heels – if I remember how to walk in them!” We both laughed.
As dawn broke on my birthday, I awoke with a feeling of excitement. I didn’t know what Chris had planned but I knew it would be special. I was not disappointed.
The day began with my favorite breakfast of pancakes topped with cinnamon apples, scrambled eggs, and crisp bacon. After breakfast, Chris had me taken to the prison beauty salon. I was pampered with a facial and a massage along with a manicure and pedicure. There was an actual stylist, not one of the usual inmates, to do my hair. There was even a bottle of wine for me to sip as I drifted from chair to chair. After my mini spa I returned to my cell to find a beautiful royal blue gown with matching heels laying across my bed next to a basket with my favorite Victoria’s Secret lotion, perfume oil, and body wash. There was also makeup and lingerie laid out for me. Chris had taped a note on the mirror:
“I have always wanted to see you in this color. I know you’ll look as beautiful as you do in my dreams. Be ready by lights out.”
Not wanting to rush I began preparing for the night ahead. Grabbing my basket and a towel I headed for the shower. Taking my time was a luxury. For once, I was completely alone in the shower and enjoyed it fully. Taking my prison issue razor, I groomed myself meticulously. I even trimmed my usually wild pubic area into a soft closely cropped triangle that framed my sex. As I washed my body with the fragrant gel, my imagination began to wander. Instead of my own, it was Chris’ strong capable hands washing my body. She would linger over areas, paying special attention to my breasts, ass, and pussy.
Rubbing the cloth vigorously across my clit Chris began kissing me. In my fantasy, I was pressed against the wall with Chris’ hand stroking me. I moaned aloud, grateful for my solitude. In my fantasy, my legs were wrapped around Chris’ waist as she filled me with her hand. Her mouth on my neck, she pumped me slowly building the pleasure until I came profusely. Coinciding with my fantasy, I came with a soft unsatisfied sigh. Turning off the tap, I toweled dry, donned my jumpsuit, and headed back to my cell to get ready for the remainder of my night.
Still in no hurry, I took my time getting dressed. I slathered the musky-sweet smelling oil across my entire body. Starting with my feet I rubbed and stroked my skin until it gleamed. Slipping the dress over my hips, I was amazed to find it fit perfectly. It clung lovingly to my curves accentuating my voluptuousness. Adding the heels completed my ensemble. Finishing the final touches to my make up I heard the lights out call. As the main lights of the prison were shut down and the cell doors clanged shut, the softly lit guide lights came on.
Hearing a throat clear at my cell door, I turned and saw J standing there. With a nod down the walkway, my cell door swung open. J was dressed in a white pinstriped suit that looked absolutely delicious on her. Grinning she extended her elbow and escorted me in silence to the cafeteria. With a slight bow of her head, she turned and disappeared. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the cafeteria door.
The room had been completely transformed. Strategically placed candles provided the only light. The usual mass of tables and chairs were pushed off to one side and a single table remained. Next to the table, holding a perfect white rose stood Chris. She was dressed elegantly in an Italian cut black silk suit with royal blue accents that matched my dress. Her beautiful hair was resting loose and unbound, softly curled under on her shoulders. Walking slowly, she crossed the room to take my hand. Giving me the softest of kisses she said, “You take my breath away.” Guiding me to the table, she held my chair for me.
Dinner was a sumptuous affair of roasted pheasant, scalloped potatoes, and broccoli. Desert was chocolate silk pie. Our conversation flowed easily but an underlying tension kept me on edge. After we finished desert Chris slid back her chair and extended her hand. “Dance with me.” She said.
There was no music but our bodies began to sway with a rhythm of our creation. My arms around her shoulders, Chris pressed our bodies closer and began slowly grinding our lower halves together. The friction was sending spasms of pleasure straight to my groin and I was growing incredibly wet. Capturing my lips, Chris kissed me with a passion that left me shaking.
“I need to make love to you.” She pleaded in a hot whisper. My only reply was to pull her into another kiss, giving her my consent physically.
We walked hand in hand back to our cell. Upon arriving, I found another transformation had taken place. A single candle illuminated our cell. Our two single bunks had been pushed together to form a full sized bed. Rose petals were scattered on the satin sheets and sheer curtains surrounded it. The curtains were tied back, if released would create a private oasis. Chris began to speak.
“Trish, I’ve tried for a very long time to protect my heart because nothing in this place is certain. Nevertheless, tonight I give my heart to you, for now for always. I love you.”
Tears sparkling in my eyes I replied, “I love you too, Chris.”
Nothing further was said as Chris led me to our bed. Unzipping my dress, I let it slip slowly from my shoulders and fall in a pool at my feet. I had chosen not to wear undergarments so I stood naked in front of Chris for the very first time. Her look of pure joy and amazement made me feel truly beautiful. Laying me on the bed Chris stepped back to remove her suit. Staring into my eyes, Chris hesitated before removing her shirt. Taking a deep breath, she allowed it to fall away from her body. As she stood before me bathed in candlelight, I was shocked to discover that both of her breasts had been surgically removed. Slowly I ran my fingers along the scars left by the surgery. Closing her eyes, Chris gave a silent sigh as I loving kissed each scar. Pushing me back onto the bed Chris began running her hands lightly along my face. She caressed every inch of my skin enflaming me with desire.
Wanting desperately to feel her against me, I plunged my fingers into her hair. Gripping tightly, I pulled her mouth to mine. At my aggressiveness, Chris growled deeply within her throat as she covered my body with her own. Settling herself between my spread legs Chris began to stroke against me slowly. Building speed and hardening her stroke, Chris created a burning rhythm that threatened to send me over the edge. Digging my nails into her back, I wrapped my legs around her waist pulling her deeper into my body. I could feel my orgasm growing as Chris continued her rhythm. As spasms began flowing through my body, I bit Chris’s shoulder hard sending her crashing into an intense climax that she poured silently into my body. Sweating profusely, she collapsed onto my chest.
As our breathing and heart rate came slowly back to normal, Chris rolled onto her back pulling me on top. Straddling her, I leaned forward and began rotating my hips. Determined to hear a reaction from Chris I reached between us spreading my neither lips so they completely covered her clit. Chris’ eyes rolled back into her head as she gripped my hips pushing herself deeper into me.
“Oh My God!” escaped Chris’ lips. Knowing I had her, I slowed my movements and began whispering in her ear. I described the fantasies that I had about her fucking me, all the dirty things that we would do to each other. Before long, she was steadily agreeing with me.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” rushed from her lips. “Oh god Trish, please baby.” She begged as I kept the torturingly slow pace. Sitting straight up I arched my back and began twisting and pulling on my nipples enjoying showing Chris how she made me feel. When her orgasm hit Chris completely lost herself in it, moaning my name repeatedly. Tears flowed down my face as I lost control and came.
Chris pulled the sheet over us and held me close as I drifted slowly back to earth. As we lay in the afterglow, I questioned Chris about her scars.
“Cancer.” was all that she would say and I did not want to push the issue.
Snuggling into her arms I drifted off to sleep only to be awaked a couple of hours later. The slow stroke of Chris tongue between my legs pulled me to full consciousness. Running her tongue from top to bottom, Chris savored every stroke. Increasing pressure, she began to flick her tongue quickly back and forth on my hypersensitive clit. As the first wave of my orgasm crested, Chris slid up my body and between my legs. Setting a frantic pace that insured her climax, she slammed into me over and over. Chris’ orgasm came quickly and intensely. Feeling her push over the edge, I crest once again.
With tears brimming in her eyes Chris declared, “I love you, Trish.”
Chris and I created a life for ourselves in a place where others lives seemed to end. We loved, laughed, and shared. On the day of my release, looking back into the prison I could not take my eyes from Chris. Her mask was in place and no emotion showed. Her eyes, however, told the anguish that she refused to show.
Chris never told me when her cancer came back. She simply took ill one day and was gone. When I received the call, a piece of me died. During a time of uncertainty and despair, I found love. A love that transcended the bars and the violence, a love that protected and cherished. A love that will be with me until the end of my days. I miss you.
Copyright © 2004. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.