Surviving Oz, Surviving the East Coast Penitentiary by P'al Kwai
17+ for language, references to assault, and explicity m/m slash
Oswald State Correctional Facility, February 11, 2003
“And I wish to God I'd left you on death row.”
Lying back down on the weight bench, Toby resumes his bench presses; his body language clearly communicating, leave me the fuck alone. Despite his deliberate rejection of Chris Keller, he still can’t help but be so very aware of the man, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chris’ dark stare. Keller stands up, but the threatening, intense look on his face never wavers, and a warning flashes through Toby. A warning so strong, that his body goes weak for a moment, and he has to rest the barbell on its brackets. Turning his head ever so slightly, he watches Keller leave the gym, as a fearful thought runs through his head.
He has just made another enemy, and this enemy is twice as dangerous and deadly as any of the Aryans.
**
February 18, 2003
A week later, more warning bells go off in Toby’s brain, as he comes across Keller and Schillinger buddied up in the prison library. But following Oz’s prison code, never show fear, he stops to speak with them, and even futility attempts to convince Schillinger of Keller’s guilt in killing an Aryan brother, Franklin Winthrop.
Exiting the library with Keller’s parting words ringing in his ears, pussy ass bitch, Toby feels more stabs of fear. Now his enemies are partners again, and in Oz there’s nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.
**
March 3, 2003
Entering his pod in Em City, the first thing that Toby notices, is the bedding and roll of toilet paper on the bottom bunk. His heavenly bliss of having space to himself is over, but it’s the man, who enters seconds after him that has his heart clenching in fear, Chris Keller.
“What are you doing here?
“Querns had me transferred back here to Oz,” Keller says with one of his patented smirks. “And made me your roomie.” Leaning close to Toby, he lowers his voice to a murmur. “There are some rumors going around how the Aryans are planning a gang rape and mutilation with you as their guest of honor, so Querns thought it wise to put me here with you. Wants me to keep an eye on you.” He gives Toby a wink.
“He what!” Prison management’s stupidity leaves Toby speechless for a few seconds. They inevitably make a bad situation worse. “I’ll have to have a talk with Querns,” he says with determination, as he turns toward the pod’s door.
“Hang on, hang on.” A strong hand takes hold of him by the arm. “Don’t do anything until you hear me out.”
“Hear you out!” Toby pushes Chris’ hand away. “After seeing you as Schillinger’s butt buddy again, I don’t think I want to hear anything you have to say.”
“Alright then, run to Querns, or McManus, or Sister Pete. See if any of them can save you. . .or your family.”
The or your family has Toby stopping in his tracks and turning back to Keller. “Is Schillinger go after my family again?” His heart has leapt up into his throat, and for a moment, he feels like he can’t breathe.
“Granted, your family members are dwindling, but I do believe you still have two children left,” Chris mocks, his arms folded across his muscular chest.
“Motherfucker!” Unable to restrain himself anymore, Toby lunges at Chris, but Keller grabs both arms before any blows can be landed.
“I know what Schillinger’s plans are, Toby,” Chris says quickly to defuse Toby‘s anger. “And I can take care of him and the Aryans for you.”
“How?” Arms stilling at his sides, Toby looks at Keller suspiciously. “And why should I believe anything you say?”
Keller pulls Toby close and whispers in his ear. “I will take care of Schillinger and his Nazi fucks.”
“And what?” Jerking himself away, Toby wonders what the catch is in Keller’s offer. “We then live happily ever after?”
“That’s right.” Chris’ smile is beautiful, so deceptively beautiful. “We live happily ever after with you as my bitch.”
**
March 14, 2003
Standing next to Keller for morning count, Toby still feels like he’s standing at the rim of a cliff, teetering on the edge. Since Keller had moved in with him ten days ago, nothing bad has happened, which one would normally think is a good thing, but in Oz, the calm before the storm usually is the prelude to something ghastly. But the day proceeds with the normal monotonous routine: breakfast, laundry, short break, lunch, work detail, and then the afternoon break, which was the highlight of most days, since that is also TV time.
But this day, no one gets to enjoy the afternoon break or television, as suddenly the whole prison is in an uproar. They’re being evacuated. Something toxic had come in the mail killing the Aryan inmates, who had been working the mailroom that day, and the guards there. They’re herded out of the prison, not given time to gather any possessions, not even a heavier shirt, since the temperature outside is unusually cold for the middle of March. Most of them are shackled with their pod/cell mate, as they board the buses, shivering with cold.
Pushed up against the window, Toby is hemmed in by the big body of Chris Keller next to him. To most, Keller’s face is impassive, but to Toby he sees the expression of satisfaction. Keller has kept his word; he took care of the Aryans.
The bus ride seems to be interminable, but in reality they’re on the bus only about four hours. They reach their destination by evening, The East Coast Penitentiary, Maximum Security.
**
The East Coast Penitentiary, March 15, 2003
The prison is in lock-down since the night before. With the arrival of the Oz prisoners, the penitentiary is more than over-crowded with an average of six men per cell. Resentment and hate are the two overriding emotions, as the prisoners of the East Coast Penitentiary blame the Oz prisoners for the worsening of already awful conditions.
Scrunched in the corner of the bottom bunk, Toby is afraid to move or speak. It reminds him of his first night in his Oz pod with Adebisi. He and Keller are outnumbered four to two, and their four cell mates are giving them looks that could kill. But as usual, Chris is all swagger and testosterone, as he matches the other men glare for glare.
“He your prag?” A biker type, whose name is Mack, asks, as he stares over at Toby.
“Ye-ah.” Chris too peers down at Toby. “And just so all of you know.” He turns back to the other men. “I don’t share.”
Mack gives a grunt of disbelief, as his stare turns from inquisitiveness to lasciviousness. “Well, maybe you’re just going to have to learn.”
“Really?” Chris’s mouth curves into a friendly smile. “I don’t think so, because you know. . . .” He raises an arm for a moment, flashing not just a shank but a hunting knife. “I just never was good with sharing.”
The vein in Toby’s forehead throbs, as conflicting emotions run through him. Outrage, because all it took was one look and all of his cellmates immediately relegated him to prag. Shock and jealousy, because Keller had been resourceful enough to find a way to arm himself with a knife, and relief, because they had thrown him in a cell with Chris. He may be raped this night, but at least, it wouldn’t be a gang rape.
**
Lights out, and Toby finds himself on the top bunk, and even though he has his eyes shut tightly, he can still feel hostile stares coming from the other beds. Twenty minutes pass while he attempts to will himself to sleep, but instead of blessed oblivion, the only emotion overcoming him is anxiety. Another five minutes, and he finally surrenders. Jumping down lightly, he grabs his pillow and blanket and throws them over a sound asleep Keller. Crawling into the bottom bunk, Toby makes sure he knees a thigh and presses down with a heel of a hand on a vulnerable rib cage.
“What the fuck!” Chris awakes with a start.
“Don’t fucking say a thing,” Toby growls out softly. It’s humiliating that he has to resort to acting the prag. Pounding his pillow a couple of times, he settles on his side, nose touching the cell bars, and back end feeling the warm body of Keller. He doesn’t have to look at Chris to see his satisfied smile.
“So.” Toby feels Keller’s hot breath on his ear. “You going to give me my due for getting rid of the Aryans?”
Toby closes his eyes; it’s time for paying up. “Seems like I don’t have much of a choice,” he replies crossly, as Keller take his hand. Expecting Chris to place it on his cock, he’s surprised when his fingers feel the smooth handle of a hunting knife. It’s been placed under Keller’s pillow.
“Just so you know,” Chris whispers.
A slight nod is Toby’s replay, as he slows his breathing and once again tries to sleep. With Keller as a buffer between him and Mad Dog Mack and his crew, he falls asleep within minutes and doesn’t awake until morning count.
**
March 16, 2003
It’s afternoon of their second day, when they’re finally allowed out of their cell for half an hour to shower. Trailing after Keller, Toby studies the new prison and is amazed at its size. It’s at least twice as big as Oz, and as he enters the showers, he realizes quickly, twice as deadly. The showers have several sections to it, and in many of them, there are groups of men brutalizing other poor prisoners, who just happened to be new/weak, unaffiliated.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Toby mutters, as they turn the corner and just about fall over three men holding another one down on the cold, tile floor. Trickles of blood from the battered convict are mixing in with the water from the showers and running toward the drain. Without thinking, he almost reaches down to the man but is pulled roughly along by Keller.
“Just keep walking,” Chris tells him quietly, as they work their way to a couple of open showerheads.
Toby knows it’s sound advice and doesn’t argue. They shower and dry off quickly, and despite the horror that surrounds him, Toby enjoys the sensation of being clean. Picking up his clothes, which he has now worn for three days straight, he sighs, nothing like putting on three-day-old boxers.
“Leave them off,” Chris advises him, as he pulls on his gray pants without any kind of underwear. “We can wash them out in our cell.”
“Great.” Toby sighs again, feeling nostalgic for Oz and Em City. Who would have thought that there were places worse than Oz?
Returning to their cell, Toby immediately begins washing out his and Keller’s underwear. It gives him something to do, and also keeps up his image of prag. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Mad Dog Mack, who’s up and pacing.
“Where’d you find such a pretty bitch?” he asks Keller, as he studies Toby with lust in his eyes.
“A mutual acquaintance brought us together,” Chris answers as he nonchalantly lies down in his bunk, hands behind his head.
Finishing with the wash, Toby walks to the end of their bunks to hang the boxers, resisting the urge to give Keller a kick on his way by. Chris’ unflappability in their new situation has him envious and annoyed.
“Right.” Mad Dog leans up against the bed frame. “How about we work out a trade for him? I can get my hands on candy, cigarettes, booze, tits. Name your price.”
The stress and tension has been building in Toby since they left Oz, and for a moment everything erupts inside him, causing him to lose his head.
“Listen, you fuck!” He grabs Mack by the arm. “Get it through your thick skull that I’m not for sale.”
The words are hardly out of his mouth, when suddenly he finds himself on the floor, seeing stars. Mad Dog has clocked him good. Before any more fists can find his face, Keller is there, standing between him and them.
“Touch him again, and I’ll slice you up.” Chris has the knife out, and he’s itching to use it on someone.
“We could rush you,” Mack says, as he and his compadres back away ever so slightly.
“Yeah.” Chris grins at them. “You could, and you’d win, but not before I take out two of you. So what’ll it be, Mack?” He waves the knife at them. “Gonna try, and hope that it’s two of your buddies?”
Moments tick, although to Toby, who’s pulling himself up off the floor, they feel like hours, but the crisis passes, and the combatants slowly move to their corners, or in this setting, their bunks.
A cold washcloth is pressed to Toby’s face, as he leans into the cell bars behind him, cursing himself for his stupidity.
“Not one of your smartest moves, Tobe,” Chris speaks quietly into his ear.
“You can hit me again,” Toby offers with all sincerity, but Keller only laughs softly, as he runs a hand through Toby’s hair and then settles himself on their bunk.
“Life with you is never dull.”
**
March 17, 2003
Prison management has divided the inmates into three groups, and each group gets a daily period out of the cell for showering, eating in the cafeteria, or rec time in the prison yard. Unfortunately, they only gets one of the choices per day. Today Toby and Chris are allowed out for lunch, and it’s the first opportunity they have for contact and news from any of the other Oz prisoners. Strolling through the enormous cafeteria with their lunch trays, they search the sea of faces.
“Fucking A, there’s O’Reily.” Chris’ sharp eyes spot him first, as he walks faster toward Ryan. “Hey, O’Reily, what’s the news?” he asks, as both he and Toby take seats opposite the Irishman.
“That we won’t be going back to Oz anytime soon,” Ryan pauses, taking a bite out of an apple. “And you can also forget about any stuff there. Whole place is contaminated.”
“Guess there go our chances of getting any clean underwear,” Toby deadpans, just as Chris yells out, “fuck! My magazine collection!”
Ryan chuckles, as he looks at Keller. “Now we know where your priorities lie. And Beech.” His gaze turns to Toby and his bruised face. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“I fell into one of our cellmate’s fist.”
Ryan chuckles again, but this time in sympathy. “Geez, Beech, you can’t ever catch a fucking break.”
“Yeah, and who do you have the pleasure of sharing a cell with?” Toby asks, as he looks down at his lunch tray with distaste. Hearing the news that they were doomed to stay in this hellhole indefinitely has robbed him of what little appetite he had.
“Not in a cell,” Ryan informs them, as he continues to munch on his apple. “I’ve been assisting Dr. Nathan in the infirmary, so because of the lack of space, they just lock me in there for the night.”
“You lucky son-of-a-bitch,” Keller says, as both he and Toby stare enviously at O’Reily.
“And just why would Dr. Nathan pick you to assist her?” Toby can’t help the question. His jealousy is turning into resentment. He’s stuck with Mad Dog Mack, and O’Reily gets the infirmary.
“I was her orderly before,” Ryan replies with a hint of defensiveness.
“She’s had other orderlies,” Toby points out. “And those others didn’t arrange for her husband to be murdered.”
“Yeah.” Ryan throws down his apple core and stands up to leave. “But in case you two haven’t noticed, this place makes Oz look like a Country Club, which causes Dr. Nathan extreme anxiety. She wants someone with her at all times, someone she knows will defend her to the max, if anyone should get out of line. The guards here are good for shit.”
Toby sneaks a glance at Keller; he understands Gloria Nathan’s logic. Nothing like having a murdering sociopath guarding your back.
“Anyhow. . . .” Ryan picks up his lunch tray to discard, as he turns to leave. “Watch yourselves, the hacks here turn a blind eye to everything, and Beech, try not to fall into any more fists,” he advises, and with a wave and a smile, he leaves.
“Now we all know how O’Reily feels about Dr. Nathan,” Toby says after Ryan is out of ear shot. “But is there actually a possibility that Dr. Nathan feels something for him?”
“You gonna eat your lunch?” Chris wolfs down his sugar cookie, as he points to Toby’s untouched tray.
“No, not hungry,” Toby replies, as he pushes the tray toward Keller, who grabs the cookie, cramming it in his mouth, while gathering up the sandwich, juice, and apple.
“What are you doing?” Toby watches in puzzlement as Chris shoves the food in his pants’ pockets. “You can’t take that stuff with you.”
“You’re thinking Oz, Tobe.” Chris stands up, while picking up their lunch trays. “Here they don’t give a flying fuck what we do.”
He dumps the cardboard trays in a trashcan before heading for the exit, while a puzzled Beecher trails after him. He can’t understand why Chris would want to save a dry sandwich and a shriveled apple, but it becomes clear to him as they make their way back to their cell. Savvy Keller manages to trade the food items for a worn deck of cards, a small pad of paper, and a stump of a pencil.
Holding the items in front of Toby’s face, he cheerfully asks, “up for some gin rummy?”
**
Nighttime in the East Coast Penitentiary, and Toby is once again wedged between the cell bars and Chris Keller. He knows that the inevitable is going to happen, that tonight he’s going to get fucked up the ass. There’s no denying Keller anymore. Toby knows that from the lustful stares he received all afternoon while playing gin rummy. He is somewhat surprised that Keller has managed to restrain himself for two weeks. It’s only minutes after the guards yell lights out, that he feels hands all over him, rubbing and kneading.
“Time to pay the piper,” Chris whispers in his ear, as one hand continues to fondle, and the other begins pushing down Toby’s boxers.
Toby doesn’t bother replaying, just raises a leg to aid in divesting himself of his underwear. He closes his eyes in a silent prayer; with no proper lubrication and the fact that he hasn’t had any anal sex since before his parole, he knows that this encounter will probably not be pleasant.
Spit-wet fingers move into the crack of his ass and begin a slow massage of his anal ring. Hugging his pillow, Toby stifles a groan; it’s always hard to resist Chris’ foreplay. The magic fingers soon move and are now inside him, rubbing and stretching. Grunting softly he uses his inner muscles and pushes down, trying to expel what’s inside him.
“You remembered your lessons.” Chris laughs quietly. “Good boy.”
Toby’s not thrilled about being called a boy, but still says nothing, as he continues the exercise, knowing that it actually relaxes everything, making penetration easier. It’s something Chris had taught him; yeah, he’s learned the finer points of getting fucked up the ass from Christopher Keller.
The fingers are removed, and are replaced by a head of a cock, that rubs between his ass cheeks but does not enter. Chris is smearing his precum around, adding to the spit in lieu of any lubrication. His intention is to spend time in preparing Toby, but soon lust overtakes him. It’s been too long since he’s been inside the man he’s desired more than anyone, even his three ex-wives.
Toby grabs on to the cells bars and hangs on tight, as he feels a cockhead breach his sphincter. He pushes his face into his pillow to keep himself from yelling out, as suddenly Chris thrusts in hard and deep. The need to own and possess is too strong, and it drives him, drives him to pound away, demanding submission. He will not be rejected again.
“Jesus!” Toby can’t help the exclamation, as he feels Chris’ anger and rage hammer into him.
“Baby, you’re mine now.” Chris can feel that he’s close, as he wraps a hand around Toby’s cock.
Long, practices strokes, and despite Toby’s pain, he’s soon rigid, and his own body reacts as he begins humping the fist around him. He too hasn’t had any sex for a while, so it doesn’t take long before he’s spilling himself over the hand that grips him. His body spasms, and his muscles clench, causing Chris to groan, and thrust himself as far as he can. His body becomes motionless, as his cock swells, and soon he’s pumping his seed into the man who has been and is his passion, his obsession.
**
March 18, 2003
The early morning hours finds Chris taking Toby again. The dam has burst, and his lust cannot be contained. This time the fuck is slower, gentler, and he whispers to Toby how he can’t, he just can’t leave him be. He’ll never leave him be.
Eyes shut tightly, Toby listens to Keller’s words and realizes that he’s turned another corner in his life, taking a new road. He is now and forever tied to a man, who’s a murdering sociopath, who kills for sport. But for whatever reason, this same man has the ability to love and be loved. A man, who has three former wives, all of who are unable to cut their ties to him. Chris divorced all three of them, one of them twice, but Toby knows that there won’t be any divorce in his future. Keller will never let him go.
“You’ll do whatever you can to keep my family safe?” Toby wants a couple vows for himself.
“I have and will continue to do so.”
“And you’ll. . . .” Toby already knows the answer to his second question, but he wants to hear the words out loud. “Protect me?”
“Always and forever, baby.”
Shifting his body, Toby turns toward Keller. “Then I am yours.”
****
Finis