Terry - part 12

Being on the top bunk, I awoke when the light was turned on.  I awoke afraid, fearing that Snyder had come in the middle of the night to torment us, but quickly remembered that he was off work for the next two days-and I felt that I'd had a night's sleep. 

Hanging my head over the edge of the bunk, I saw that Terry was still asleep.  Sleeping on his back, his mouth was slightly open, and he was snoring softly-so softly that I hadn't noticed it over the noise of the blowers until I had hung my head over the bunk.

Since the only sheets we had were the form-fitted ones covering the mattresses and he was naked, I could see that he had an erection.  Although I had awakened with one also, the sight of his made mine that much harder.  While staring at his cock- thinking about how I'd sucked it the night before-I began masturbating, shifting my gaze to his face occasionally to be certain that my motion hadn't awakened him.  I came, creating a new wet spot on my sheet.  The one from the night before had dried, forming a stain, which was stiff to the touch.

After wiping my  hand on the sheet, I pulled up my shorts and slid off the bed, trying not to awaken Terry.  I wanted to wash off the smell of my climax before he awoke, which he did while I was using the toilet.  Before either of us could speak, a whistle blew and we were ordered to stand on the yellow line.  The panel on the door opened for the delivery of breakfast, which was pancakes.

Since it was the only place to sit, we both sat on his bunk to eat, neither of us speaking while we ate.  What had happened the previous night hung between us like an impenetrable curtain.  While I wanted to know what Terry was thinking, he avoided looking at me.  Evidently, the hot passion of the night had been replaced by the cold shame of the morning.  I knew Terry was thinking that he'd never let it happen again.  I wondered, though.  He could think that today, but he'd come into my mouth twice the night before.  He'd been starved for sexual release and had allowed me to take the edge off that hunger.  With time, it would return, and he would remember how good it had felt to have his cock sucked, turning again to me to satisfy his hunger.  Of course, I couldn't be sure that he would.  Terry was strong in his convictions, but we were in the Walls.  Whatever we had felt-whatever we had believed-no longer mattered.

When the guards came to take us for a shower and recreation, I was surprised-and pleased-to see that they were Crabb and Poland.  The thought of being naked in front of Poland, a woman, embarrassed me, but neither she or Crabb were sadistic like the others.  Although, like all the guards, they treated us like animals-as if we were less than human-they had never gone out of their way to make us suffer.  I had no fear for my life while under their supervision, as I did when being guarded by Rogers or Snyder.

I wondered why someone would chose to be a corrections officer.  In Texas it didn't pay well and was not without danger.  I could understand why sadists like Rogers and sexual predators like Snyder might chose the profession.  It provided them with victims who had little means to retaliate.  They enjoyed having the power of life or death over others, but all the guards weren't sadists or predators.  I could even imagine some of the kids I'd known from my high school in that role-but none of my friends.  We'd all been a little too wild-too disrespectful of authority-to have ever chosen such a profession.

I'm certain, though, that they weren't the same people who they had once been.  Even the guards must have been shaped-molded-by the Walls.  One couldn't spend the day amongst the violence-and the violent, one couldn't witness and cause the degradation of the prisoners, one couldn't turn a blind eye to what occurred within the Walls, without being affected by it-without becoming less than what they had once been.

Crabb and Poland took us to the showers, gave us fresh uniforms, and took us to the recreation yard, where we shot some hoops.  We talked some about the game, but not about much else-certainly not about last night.  Too soon, we were back in our cell-but, at least, we were both clothed, and our shackles were removed when we entered the cell.

Terry lay on his bunk reading-or pretending to read-a magazine, so I picked up one and crawled onto mine, leafing through it without actually seeing the pages, lost in thought, wondering whether Terry was ever going to speak to me again.  Oh, he'd said a few words during the day, but he hadn't really spoken to me.  He could have just as well have been speaking to the walls-or to himself.  I wanted to beg him to talk to me, but I'd done that before.  Either my shame-or my guilt-kept me from asking again.

When I awoke the next morning, I looked over the edge of my bunk expecting to see Terry still asleep, but he was awake, sitting on the floor in the farther corner from the door, huddled with his arms around his knees. A look of sheer terror was on his face.  He was shivering and mumbling to himself.  "What happened, Terry?  What's wrong?" I asked.

"Snyder comes back tonight," he answered.

Shit!  Consumed with thoughts of Terry and of having sex with him, I'd forgotten about Snyder.  I had blamed Terry's reticence on our sexual liaison, but, looking at him, I realized that he might have, instead, been thinking of Snyder's return.  I, too, was frightened by Snyder, but, he had never raped or beaten me.  My fear of Snyder was elicited by my imagination.  Terry's was palpable.  Snyder had hurt-and raped-him.

Going to him, I sat on the floor, putting my arms around him.  He didn't pull away.  "Maybe-since I'm here-he'll leave us alone."

Terry looked up at me.  At first there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but it soon dissolved into tears.  "Why should that stop him?"

"Maybe he won't do it in front of a witness."

"A witness-you?  What makes you think that anyone would listen to you-or that anyone here would care?"

I had no answer.  Who could I tell?  No guard would listen.  Even though I suspected that some of them were disgusted by Snyder and his actions, I knew of none who would stand with a convict against another guard.  We were of a different species-alien-less human than they.

Terry didn't touch his breakfast.  If I hadn't seen the change in him from one day to the next, I wouldn't have believed that it could have been possible.  He was almost unrecognizable-certainly wasn't the strong, self reliant, boy whom I had worshiped for the last three years.  At least, I got him off the floor-onto the bed, where I sat next to him with my arms around him, trying to comfort him.

Normally, I suppose I would have been aroused by being so close to Terry.  I had my arms around him and was pressing him close to me, but he seemed so vulnerable, that seducing him would have been like raping a child.  It never entered my mind.  It was such a switch in our relationship-my being his protector  He was shivering as if cold, even though the day was warm.

Since we'd had a shower the day before, we weren't scheduled for one, but we normally got an hour in the recreation yard each day.  I was perplexed when lunch came and no one had come to get us for recreation, but, as usual, it did no good to ask the guard who delivered lunch about it.

Some time after lunch, a whistle blew and we scurried to the line like two well trained Pavlovian dogs.  I shivered when I heard Rodger's voice through the speaker.  "Strip," he said.

Without hesitation-or questions-we stripped.  By now, we'd learned not to question a guard's instructions-especially not Rodger's.  After stripping, we each placed our hands through the panel to be handcuffed, then filed out into the hallway when the door was opened.

Rodgers, with a grin on his face, was standing there with another guard.  Addressing Terry as the other guard placed shackles on our legs, he said, "You're looking a little peaked, boy.  Too much sex?  You and your boyfriend here been getting it on?"

The other guard said, "Probably too much Snyder."

The guard's comment removed all doubts that I might have had about how much the other guards knew about Snyder's actions.  I'd never seen this guard before-yet he knew about Snyder.  No one cared, or, at least, no one was going to do anything to protect us from Snyder.

"Shake down their cell," Rodgers said to the other guard, then stood leering at us, tapping his baton against the palm of his hand while the guard tore our cell apart.  Other than the magazines, there was nothing. He stripped the mattresses off the bunks, leaving them on the floor of the cell-then left the cell with our uniforms and sheets gathered under his arm.  "Look at this," he said to Rodgers, showing him my sheet.  "The boy's been busy."  He was pointing to the come stains on my sheet.

Rodgers laughed.  "You boys been having an orgy?  I hope you saved something for Snyder.  He's looking forward to this reunion."

The flush I'd been experiencing from having my come stains displayed evaporated, leaving me shivering at the reminder of Snyder's impending return.  Glancing at Terry, I saw that I needn't have worried about his seeing the semen stains on my sheet.  He'd apparently retreated far into himself.  Whether or not I'd beat off onto my sheet was of no concern to him.  I'm certain that his thoughts were only about Snyder.

When it was time for us to re-enter our cell, Terry entered first.  The guards hadn't removed our shackles, and we were naked.  As I passed through the doorway, Rodgers shoved me into Terry.  With our feet shackled, we both fell, luckily, onto the mattresses, which were still on the floor.  Although neither of us was hurt, it was another example of Rodger's cruelty.

With difficulty, we put one of the mattresses onto Terry's bunk, but, being shackled, it was impossible to replace mine, so we left  it on the floor-not that it mattered.  With Snyder coming back that night, I doubted that either of us would be sleeping.

Terry lay down on his bed facing the wall.  Since they had taken the magazines, and Terry didn't want to talk, I lay down on the bed next to him, my back to his. Because I was thinking about Snyder, even though I could feel Terry's flesh pressing against mine, I wasn't aroused by it. 

Because I was comforted by his touch, I was glad that Terry didn't attempt to pull away from my naked flesh.  Whether or not he still regarded me as his friend, since I had sucked his cock, we were similar creatures.  At the Walls, it was us against them.  For a while, that had included Harris, but, now, there was just Terry and me.  Whatever happened to one of us, was likely to happen to the other.  Although, because of my love for Terry, I wished that he were at home-wished that he hadn't been sent to the Walls-I knew, that, without him, I would have gone insane.  The rats would have devoured my soul, along with my balls, while I was in isolation, if I hadn't known, somehow, that Terry would have been waiting for me when I climbed out of the pit into which I had fallen.  Only Terry gave me a reason to want to live, but, from the despair that he felt, I doubted that I provided him with any such incentive.  I had nearly lost my mind, and I hadn't been tortured by Snyder as Terry had been.

Although I had known that Terry was tougher than me-both in strength and character-I realized that Harris was also tougher than me-possibly even stronger than Terry.  He had certainly endured more than either of us.  Terry and I had been sentenced for robbery and assault.  Harris' crime had been loving a younger boy.  If that boy had been a few months older, it wouldn't have been a crime.  Now, Harris was on death row.

If it weren't for Snyder, I would have been glad to have been in segregation with Terry as a cellmate.  In general population, Harris had been raped and castrated by other prisoners.  From the catcalls and comments we'd received from the other convicts, I knew that, had I been in the general population, I would have been raped by now.  Although I wasn't as desirable as Terry, I was young.  To many, that was enough.

When supper came, neither of us felt like eating.  After supper there was nothing to do-except to wait for Snyder.