Confined: An Old Hell, and New Heaven - Chapter One: The Pearly Gates and The Raging Brimstone
An intro to a new series, Confined: An Old Hell, and New Heaven. All characters belong to me, Sharamore.
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I'm lost, confused, and trapped in a daze. It was so fast...the robbery, the conviction, the trial, a flash. As I stare out of my cell, I see what could be the world around me. Grasses so green they could have been painted by god himself, and a Sky, so blue, you could just swim in. Butterflies zipped to and fro, from flower to flower, sipping the sweet nectars of freedom..freedom..which I miss so much.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get to taste those succulent nectars once more, but for now, a dream is a dream.
The most of freedom I can ever experience anymore are two feet. Twenty four inches. Sixty centimeters. That's both of my forearms pushed through the iron bars. Both a foot long.
I let my forearms hang from the cold, rough, iron bars, gazing what seems to be endlessly into the rolling midland hills.
They give you the option to workout and socialize in the yard for two hours a day, but that isn't freedom. That's recess. Recess for a neer'do'well, over-aged child, who jumps over bounds at the first sight and feeling of what they think is, "Freedom", or even on a more basic level, simple recreation.
Freedom isn't free if it's granted to you. Freedom is something you cherish, freedom is something you're thankful for, freedom is....
Indescribable.
All I know is...that isn't freedom.
I sit on the bottom bunk, sighing slightly with a tone of disbelief. I sweep my long, orange and black tail over my lap, stroking it softly. I realize...this was something mother taught me...to calm myself down......to soothe my anger.
If only I could have thought of that at the time...
If only I had listened to mother...
If only.
Then, and only then, I am reminded of my only living possession in this hellhole. It was an antique, passed down to me by my Siberian Grandfather. He was a great, seven foot tall Siberian Tiger who had pinched it from a vendor, before his escape of the Red Army.
As I open the tattered, steel gray, and once polar white journal, the very first words I see are his. They fill half of the first page.
"I haven't been loyal to the Czar for many a year for naught. Stealing my be against what I believe, but I am out of rubles, and this is a necessity. We are proud, Siberian Tigers who stand by what we believe. For my children, and my children's children, and the children after that. Pass this down from youth to youth, and never forget these words.
We are proud, honest people, who will always do our best for others, as well as ourselves. We will do our best, and believe in the American dream - Vladimir"
American Dream my ass! I'm a Creative Writing Major in jail! I've wasted four year of my life just to end up in a pit of savages!
Or have I...
Mother always told me growing up...there was no such thing as easy money, or a free lunch. I slip my journal under my pillow, lying back, lazily staring into the bunk above.
Twenty-Five year old Bengal Tiger, 5'8, whiny voice, and the tightest vibrant green pants and shirt they had. Who am I kidding? I'm currency here. My first day here, and I'm afraid to leave my cell. Felines who've strolled by my cell have been harassing me with catcalls all damn day.
"It melts in your mouth...not in your hand...."
"I'd trade a whole damn carton of cigarettes to get at that..."
"Once you go Black Panther...you never go back to regular panther!"
I hear my cell open, I see a huge, thick, knotted cock above face. In an instant, a homemade toothbrush shiv is damn-near thrust into my neck.
"Suck or die, new meat"
I'm not homosexual...but I did enjoy living. Without question, I began licking it up and down , before I was abruptly slapped across my face, leaving me whimpering and whining.
He clenched his shiv between his jaws, grabbing my scruff roughly, tossing me onto the bunk above. In an instant, he slammed the cell's bars shut, growling deeply. From this angle, I finally saw who he was. He was a huge, toned gray wolf, around 6'6. He only wore jeans, sweat beading down his bare chest. His red tribal tattoos stood out amongst the sea gray fur, jagged lines falling from his shoulders to his wrists, and down his back.
How he slammed the cell's bars shut bars with possession, I could infer he was my new cellmate, this made me whimper and whine even more...
Without haste, with a single bound, he leaped onto the top bunk, rolling me over onto my back, kneeling over me and trapping my arms, without permission, shoving his large meat into my maw.
As he lightly, and teasingly jabbed me once more with his shiv, I though of what he told me just before. I sucked. I sucked hard. I had never even SEEN a penis beside my own, mind you, but this was for my life. I shut my eyes, I performed every trick I could think of, I took him deep and shut my eyes, I swirling my tongue around his knot, I coughed all over it...
He let loose growls of lust and moans of excitement. He adjusted his free paw between my ears, scritching them as some sort of a sick reward, grinning down toothily as he began to drip his bitter pre-seed over my sensitive, rough feline tongue.
I began choking in disapproval, but at this point, he didn't even care. He threw his shiv away, humping hard into my maw, knotting it firmly before he let go , forcing me to swallow load after humiliating load, ounce of shame after shame...
I slowly began to regain composure, opening my eyes as he slowly pulled out, wiping his member's tip off on my cheeks. I looked over and down and at least three other wolves were staring through the bars, members drawn, and shots already fired. For some reason, I blushed...
After he was done with me, he lie me on my side, before lying next to me. He began explaining things to me in the oddest of ways: Casually, with a rough demeanor. He began licking his lips, growling softly.
"I'm Matt. Welcome....?"
"Vladimir..."
"Oh? Russian I see"
"Y-Yeah..."
He took his paw in mine, slowly brushing through my jet black headfur with the other, "I'll be short. You're new, and you won't survive without me long."
I began looking away, but he held a paw under my chin, my ideas, my theories, my beliefs, gone...
"Don't look away from me. You'll address me as daddy, always. You're not to leave this damn cell without my permission, and whenever I want it, you give it. And about them staring, I had to let em' know who claimed you... "
I thought...I really had no choice, being the oddly submissive cat I am, I shyly nodded.
With that, his harsh maw curved into a smile, his lupine ear perking up, "Good!"
He held me close, kissing over my head, "I like you already...I think you'll like me too, after you get to know me..."
"Daddy..."
"Yes Vladdy?"
"Do you...do you care about me?"
Matt began grooming over my ears, making me faintly smile, "Well, you're MY bitch. I protect you. I claim you. And I look out for you, so yes, I care abou tyou..now shush.."
I shut my maw, thinking...about having someone care about me...about having a real reason to care....
In prison. In a place far from paradise, far from freedom, far from...life.
I lay my head on Matt's broad chest, peacefully shutting my eyes, thinking into the night.
I'm not dead...but I was raped...but someone has a genuine interest in me...
Maybe there is freedom in hell...maybe.
And with that thought, I rested.
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From this point on, and in further installments, the story will be in the third person. It will not be only my Story, but it will be shared between Matt and I. And for the rest of this installment, it shall be all Matt's.
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In the middle of the night, I woke up, blinking, realizing...
I held Vladdy tightly in my arms, nuzzling with him cheek to cheek. And then, I smiled...
For a straight guy, Vladimir can give a good blowjob.