Chloe in Prison Ch. 13

I felt her legs going jittery: I slid my hands right up to her bottom, my fingers reaching between her legs from behind. She started to moan and judder: I slid my middle finger into her juices, probing her pussy from behind, whilst I carried on licking with my tongue. She gave a sharp intake of breath, squealed, and came. I felt liquid spurt into my mouth, and thought for a second she had she had involuntarily started to piss, but it didn't taste pissy, more like the juices of her pussy intensified.

Micky collapsed onto the bench, and sat there dazed, with her legs spread wide. I sat down beside her and she leaned against me.

"Chloe: that was - " she said, and her voice tailed away as if no word would suffice.

"That's good," I said.

We sat for a few minutes, watching the shifting forms of the mass of women, listening to the raised voices, the echoes and the drone of the showers. Then I stood up to leave. Micky grabbed hold of my hand.

"Please don't go yet," she said. "Please stay and talk. I'll give you another square of chocolate if you like."

"I'll stay a bit longer if you want me to," I said. "But no more chocolate. I'll have to go when I'm called to showers, though. Which group are you in?"

"The one after you Chloe. I'm in Cell 32: not far from you."

I'd been quite curious to find out what the harmless-seeming Micky had done to land her in prison. Rose didn't know, and the day I'd arrived she'd cautioned me not to go around questioning people. But now the time seemed propitious: so I asked.

"It's a long story," she said. "Are you sure you want to listen?"

"I'd like to," I said.

"OK," said Micky. "Well, as I told you I've almost always liked women. I did have sex once with a boy, at a party, but I didn't enjoy it, and when I found out he'd only done it for a bet I was upset. The girl whose house the party was at came and comforted me, and one thing led to another, and in the end she became my first girlfriend.

"It didn't last long, and I found it hard to make friends, let alone get a girlfriend. Partly I suppose it was down to these." She gave her dummy-sized breasts a dismissive flick with her hands.

"One day my mother booked me a riding lesson. Have you ever been horse-riding Chloe?"

"Yes," I said. "I really enjoyed it."

"I loved it Chloe. I loved the big, strong intelligent heads of the horses. I loved the smell of the leather, the saddles and stirrups, and bridles. I loved catching the bus out into the countryside, and all the birdsong and the stables and the hay. Most of all I loved the feeling or sitting on top of one of those giant animals and cantering round in a field.

"I went whenever my mother could afford it. Then I started helping out at weekends. I learned about tacking up and mucking out and everything. I preferred horses to people Chloe: they didn't judge me; they didn't laugh at me for having no breasts.

"As I grew older I started going on the bus on my own. I was always there: I would stay on and tidy up after the other girls had gone home. Then one day I was alone in a stable with the woman who ran the place - Alice. She'd always been friendly to me: she appreciated how much I cared for the horses. I'd just about finished, and was going to leave - when she kissed me.

"I was amazed, Chloe. She was so much older than me, and so much more sophisticated: a real country woman who knew about hunting and farming and pony club. She came from a totally different world to me, a world I was in awe of and wished I could join. She was very attractive, too, though she always wore jodhpurs and riding boots, and her hair was always tied back or bunched up under her riding hat.

"We made love, Chloe. There in the stable on a pile of straw. It was the most wonderful thing in my life. Afterwards I just lay there, breathing the smell of straw and horses and her wonderful sweaty horsy aroma.

"After that I was there all the time. I was at College by then, studying photography, and I wanted to leave and just work with Alice at the stables, but she told me no, I should get a qualification first. So I went every evening and every weekend. Sometimes I would stay over, and sleep in her double bed, under these ancient oak beams. Sometimes, if I had to get to college early, I would catch the last bus home.

"Alice didn't give a damn about anyone. She would take me to the village pub, buy me pints of beer, and sit holding my hand.

"One evening, Chloe, I was waiting at the bus stop. It was just starting to get dark. A Landrover stopped with some men in it, and asked me if I wanted a lift. They said they were going into town. I didn't think, Chloe, I just thought I would save my bus fare, so I climbed in.

"As soon as I was inside I knew something was wrong. There were three men plus the driver: all country types, wearing waxed jackets and cloth caps, like they'd just come from a shooting party. One of them said: 'you're that lezzy cunt from the Riding School'. I asked them to let me out, but the driver had already started to accelerate. Then they said awful things: about how girls were only lesbians because they'd never been properly fucked by a man, and how they were going to put that to rights. I started to scream, then one of them grabbed me and put his hand over my mouth. The others in the back were leering at me, telling me what they were going to do to me.

"We turned off the lane onto a track, and they stopped outside a barn. There was no-one around. They dragged me inside and closed the door. The barn was full of bales of straw. There was hardly any light, just a couple of windows very high up.

"They took off my clothes and they raped me Chloe. One after the other. There was nothing I could do. And they said cruel, horrible things, about how I wasn't a real woman, how it was no wonder I was a lesbian as no man would ever want me. They were brutal Chloe. It was horrible."

Tears had appeared on Micky's cheeks. I squeezed her hand.

"It's all right," I said. "You're here with me now."

"Thank you Chloe. Even when the men had finished they wouldn't let me go. They told me they were going to have a rest and then do it again. They were sprawled on the straw, between me and the door. There was no way I could escape: I was very frightened: I even thought they might kill me when they had finished raping me.

"I asked them for a cigarette, as two of them were smoking. One of them tossed me a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I turned away from them: and instead of lighting the cigarette I set fire to the straw in two or three places. It caught light very quickly: by the time they noticed it was blazing up behind me. They jumped up, and grabbed at jackets to beat at the fire: I took my chance and ran to the door. I managed to get it open and run out, but I was terrified they would come after me, so I slid the block of wood that keeps the doors barred between the handles.

"The blaze had caught hold. I could hear the men yelling and smell the smoke. I was stark naked Chloe, I had not stopped for my clothes, but I ran as fast as I could, back towards the village, then off up the track to the riding school. By the time I got there I could see flames. Then I heard sirens: somebody had phoned for the fire brigade.

"I banged on the door, and Alice came, and I told her what had happened. By that time there was a real commotion: we could see the flames and smell the smoke and hear the fire engines.

"About an hour later the police came to the Riding School. They told me I was being arrested under suspicion of Arson and Attempted Murder. Alice rounded on them like a fury, but it was no good, they took me off to the Police Station."

"Cells Nineteen to Twenty-four into the showers," bawled Hardiman: "Five minutes."

"I've nearly finished Chloe," said Micky. "Well, it seemed all the men managed to get out: they couldn't get the doors open, but they piled bales of straw on top of each other, smashed the window, then threw some bales down outside and jumped. One had a broken leg, another broke his ankle, and they all had smoke-filled lungs, but none of them died. But the barn was burned to the ground.

"I told the Police what had happened, and I had the Police Doctor examine me: but when they questioned the men they all said I had gone with them voluntarily and consented to have sex. I don't think the Police believed them: one Policewoman told me she believed they had raped me, but it would be their word against mine in Court. It didn't help me that I had no bruises or injuries: I hadn't struggled because there was no point: they would only have raped me anyway and probably hurt me.

"But there was no denying I had started the fire. It turned out the barn was owned by the father of one of the men, and he was a local landowner with friends in high places. He wanted to see me convicted. And the Police made much of the fact that I had barred the barn door, knowing the men would be trapped inside.

"In the end they dropped the Attempted Murder charge: but I was convicted of Arson, and sent here for four years.

"They spoiled everything for me Chloe. Alice sold up the Riding School and went to live in Australia after the trial. Those men are walking around scot-free - free to do the same to some other girl. And I'm locked up in here."

"Micky - I am so, so sorry," I said, putting my arms round her and hugging her as she cried.

"I'm sorry Chloe - I don't usually get like this," said Micky, smearing her forearm across her face. "There, I'm better now."

"I'm going to have to go any second," I said.

"Chloe:" said Micky, again holding onto my hand. "Do you believe in fate?"

"I don't know," I said: "it depends what you mean."

"I mean, do you believe things happen for a reason?"

"Sometimes," I said. Then, thinking of Prana, and how I would not have met her if I had not been sent to prison, I said: "Yes."

"I do Chloe," said Micky. "It was awful what happened to me: but if it hadn't happened, if I hadn't been sent here - I wouldn't have met you."

"Cells Twenty-Five to Thirty into the showers," yelled Hardiman. "Five minutes."

"I've got to go Micky," I said.

I stood under the plunging water, and tried to let everything wash away. I rubbed shampoo into my hair from the bottle Rose had brought, and tried to let my mind go blank, but it wasn't so easy. Micky's story had moved me: I felt very sorry for her, and outraged on her behalf. But I was also cross with her: I had wanted to give myself up to thoughts of Prana: this was my special time, our special time: I didn't want my mind to be filled with somebody else's troubles.

All too soon my shower was over. I trudged out, wet hair straggling over my face, but kept my head bowed, as I did not want to catch Micky's eye during changeover. I prayed that Prana had finished earning 'this and that' for Megan's friends.

To my delight Prana caught up with me as I was taking a clean towel from the pile.

"Hi Chloe," she said. "I have finished earning now, but please do not ask me to suck you because my tongue is numb. Some women have pussies like sandpaper."

I laughed gaily.

"That's all right Prana: to be honest I'm not really in the mood today."

"OK Chloe, we will just talk."

"Yes please," I said: "but can we go somewhere different?"

Instead of heading for Fatima's corner, we found ourselves a space close to the doors. It was cooler there, being furthest from the warmth of the showers, but less popular.

"Chloe," said Prana: "something is bothering you today, you are looking thoughtful."

"It's just Micky," I said. "I've spent the last half-hour listening to her."

"Micky?" asked Prana. "Oh yes, Pancakes. I saw you with her. I think she is in love with you Chloe: I saw the way she was looking at you last week."

"That's the trouble Prana: I don't dislike her, and I don't mind bringing her off: but I don't want her to be in love with me."

"Chloe, you are just like me in the massage parlour," said Prana. "I did not mind sucking and fucking with men: but I hated it when they told me they were in love with me."

The idea that this was comparable to Prana in the massage parlour had me laughing again."

"That's better Chloe, now you are happy again. But you must be straight with Pancakes."

"I will," I said. "Now give me a hug."

We stood embracing, our warm bare bodies pressed together. Despite my conviction that I hadn't felt like sex, there was a fluttering between my legs.

"Do you know why Pancakes is here?" I asked Prana, immediately feeling guilty for not using Micky's preferred name.

"For Arson I hear," Prana said.

"She told me her story," I said. And then, as briefly as I could, I gave Prana a summary of what Micky had told me.

"But this is awful," said Prana. "Chloe, you must be nice to her, though you must not lead her on."

"I will," I said.

"This makes me hate men so much," said Prana. "They should all have their balls cut off at birth."

"Some of them," I said.

"No Chloe, all of them," said Prana firmly. And when I did not concur she said:

"Chloe: did you ever have a tomcat?"

"I've had cats," I said, "but they've always been female."

"I had a tomcat once Chloe. He was a big black stray. He slept on my pillow and he dribbled when I stroked him, just like a man. He was a very friendly cat, but every night he was fighting with other cats, and he came in with a scratched face or a torn ear. Also he was very smelly because he was always spraying. Again just like a man. One day I'd had enough and I took him to the vet, and the vet cuts off his balls. After that, no more fighting, no more smell. He was happy, I was happy, other cat owners were happy. Why can't we do this with men Chloe?"

"Prana, you're going to have me in stitches," I giggled.

"I am serious Chloe. If we did this to men there would be no more wars, no more fighting, no more greed."

"What about breeding Prana?"

"Chloe, there are already far too many people in the world. But maybe we could keep a few for breeding from."

We hugged again, looked into each other's eyes, and giggled.

"Changing the subject," I said, "I keep meaning to ask you about your cellmate. I see her name on the door, but I can never remember more than SKI."

"You saw her today when you came in," said Prana. "Cynthia is her name."

"The girl with long blond hair and a thin face?"

"That is her Chloe."

"What's she like?" I asked.

"She is all right, but she is Polish and she does not speak much English, so it is hard work talking with her. I think she is a boring person, but it may be because we cannot talk much. Also she farts all the time. I too do not remember her last name: Fartski she should be called."

"I fart sometimes Prana."

"So do I Chloe, but Cynthia farts all the time. It is not nice. 'Get Officer Hardiman to give you an enema,' I said to her once. Also she does not shave me well. One time she missed a patch. Fortunately it was Raymond and I was told to be more careful. Fartski says it is because she is short-sighted and they took away her glasses, but I always check in the mirror now."

"God Prana, I wish I could shave you," I said, the thought sending butterflies fluttering between my legs.

Prana laughed. "Chloe, if you shaved me we would never finish, I would just have orgasms all the time."

I was just wondering whether to suggest we have orgasms now when Prana continued:

"Anyway, it doesn't matter: she is leaving next week. Then I have to worry about who my new cell mate will be. Maybe she will be old and ugly; or maybe she will be a pig like Wilson."

"At least you'll be rid of Cynthia's farts," I said.

"This is true Chloe: I must look on the positive side.

We hugged again, and this time, from the way she went silent and pressed against me, I thought I detected a stirring in Prana's loins. But the early flickerings of lust had quite left me. Instead I was thinking. Or rather, my heart was thumping, and an idea so audacious was forming inside me I could not concentrate on anything Prana was doing. I tried to think lucidly, but I was in such a fever lucidity was impossible. I knew I should wait, and go back to my cell and try to calm down, but there was no time. Hardiman had blown her whistle at least once since Prana and I had started talking: soon Showers would be over, and then it might be too late.

"You are worrying about Micky still," Prana said. "Chloe, everybody in here has a heartbreaking story, but you must develop a thick skin. This does not mean you are a callous person: it is necessary to survive. If I worried all the time about how you came to be here I would never get to sleep at night."

Another time I might have been flattered and moved by this, but I barely heard what Prana was saying.

"It's not that," I said. "Prana: I have to go and see somebody: please will you wait for me?"

"Of course Chloe."

. Immediately I disengaged myself and hurried over to the opposite end of the shower room, where Megan was sat on a bench with a towel round her shoulders. Two other women flanked her: one was like a scaled-down version of Megan herself, who I recognised as Cartwright by her dagger tattoo; the other had long, lank hair and looked as though she had been weaned on sour lemons. I hesitated as I approached: Megan always sent a chill through me, and I usually tried to avoid her without being obviously impolite. But there was no time for scruples.

"Megan," I began: "please can I speak to you?"

She fixed her unsmiling eyes on me and nodded. The women on either side of her stopped talking and waited.

"Rose told me sometimes the Warden's will do favours for you," I began hesitantly.

"What of it?" Megan said.

"Megan: I know it's a huge favour, and I shouldn't ask: but could you get me moved into Prana's cell?"

My heart was pounding as I spoke: I looked as steadily as I could into the eyes of this woman, who had committed assault and armed robbery and God knew what else, and half-expected her to break my arm for the very presumptuousness of my request. Several long seconds of silence passed.

"I could," said Megan, and for a split second my heart was dancing: "But I won't."

"Oh," I said. "Well thank you anyway - I'm sorry for bothering you." I was about to turn tail, but Megan said:

"Do you want to know why I won't?"

"Yes," I said. "Please."

"One," said Megan: "you wouldn't survive a week. Two, Rose has been like a mother to you and she deserves better. And three: if I did this for you you'd be paying me back for the next ten years."

"Oh," I said. "OK. I see."

"Littlehayes," said Megan: "what are you really in here for?"

"Drugs dealing," I said. For some reason the women either side of Megan tittered. Megan addressed the sour-faced one.

"Have you ever seen a meaner-looking drug dealer before?"

This time the women chuckled.

"Well, actually it was my boyfriend, not me," I said.

"How would you like to work for me and my friends when you get out?" asked Megan.

"Doing what?" I asked. Again the women laughed.

"What you do best," said Megan. "Dealing drugs. Smack, crack, crystal meth - take your pick."

I didn't know how to answer: how to decline without giving offence.

"I don't know," I said.

"Of course you fucking know," said Mega. "The idea scares the shit out of you."

"I suppose so," I said.

"You were at University right?" asked Megan.

"Yes," I said.

"Well when you get out of here you go straight back to University and fucking make something of your life. Do you understand? And don't come to me again asking to share a cell with some fucking tart you've got the hots for."

"OK," I said.

Megan had dropped her gaze: the eye contact which held me was broken, and I was free to go. Shaking, I walked back across the showers, and rejoined Prana who was now sitting on the floor. The whole interview with Megan had only lasted about five minutes, though it felt like years.