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A Lesson From Life, Part Two
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
FAN CHA PHAW PRESENTS:
"A LESSON FROM LIFE"
The following story contains sex and sexual situations
involving adult homosexuality, and scenes of adult-
child sexuality. If you are offended by such things, exit
now and do not continue reading.
If you are under the legal age to read adult sexual
stories, exit this file now.
All characters in this story are fictional. They are not
real.
Fan Cha Phaw does not condone the activities of the
actors in this story. Fan Cha Phaw does not advocate the
breaking of any laws known to mankind.
Ishmael Wilkins
Fan Cha Phaw
A LESSON FROM LIFE
ACT TWO
He told me how trusties would sneak up and through
pails of water, sometimes hot into cells, or worse yet,
cups of piss or worse. With the blanket, he told me, I
could save from being injured or covered in piss.
Whereas I had thought that my spirits would raise when
I finally found someone to talk with, the opposite
occurred. The more that he talked, the more depressed I
became.
The con's final instruction was to check all food that was
delivered to my cell for signs of tampering. He told the
stories of trusties spitting into the food, of ground glass
or chemicals being mixed in with the food, and all of
those wonderful tales.
When chow finally arrived that night, I was almost too
scared to eat it. As I ate, I carefully probed every
mouthful, least I find something which didn't belong
there.
Later that night the con called out once more. We talked
about this and that for about ten minutes before we both
finally fell silent. Even though the guy had tried to break
my arm, I was beginning to like him. He had given me
valuable lessons and information on how to survive
behind the walls.
The next afternoon a fairly kind guard appeared on the
block. He opened a few cells and called out the inmates
to clean the unit. My body stiffened when several
inmates walked by my cell carrying mops, brooms, and
buckets, however, short of glancing in to see the new
guy, they did nothing to bother me.
About an hour after the cleaning crew was banished to
their cells, the guard reappeared and opened the cell door
next to me. He announced to the con that he was to take
his shower. The guard stood there for a few minutes as
the con got ready and then walked down the tier for the
shower. I was wondering if I would get a chance to look
at him when he came back.
After my neighbor walked down the tier, I moved
towards the door and asked the guard if I would be able
to shower as well. He looked at me for a moment, and
then glanced down at his clipboard. He shook his head
no, and told me that perhaps I could have one the next
day.
After about ten minutes I heard the shower go off, and a
few minutes later I heard my neighbor walking back
down the tier. He obviously stopped by a few cells on
the way, but soon he was standing in front of my door.
When I raised my head up from the bunk and looked at
him I was shocked. He was no more than a boy. When
he saw that I was looking at him he smiled. Without any
hesitation or inhibition he opened his towel wide and
exposed his hard-on for me to see.
I was shocked that this boy would do this, especially to a
stranger. As much as I didn't want to look, I noticed
how young and soft he was. He had no body hair short
of a small, neat patch above his penis. His hard-on,
while impressive to me, was no more than four inches
long.
While I watched he began to wiggle his erection back
and forth between the bars. When I made no move
towards him, he moved closer, sticking his weapon
deeper into my cell, and told me that I had better hurry
before the guard came back.
Just when I was about to ask him what he meant, the
outer door clanged, signaling that the guard was on his
way in. The boy disappeared from the front of my cell,
and I heard him enter into his. The guard appeared a few
minutes later and locked him in, opening another cell
further down the line to let the next con out.
I laid there thinking about what had taken place with my
neighbor. Although I had an idea of what he had wanted,
I was not really sure. In the middle of my deep thoughts
about what he had wanted, I heard him call to me.
Moving close to the bars, we began to whisper just loud
enough to hear each other. He told me that I blew it, and
then laughed at his own joke. He told me that when he
had a chance to come to the cell, I had to be fast before
the guard came. He also told me that when it was my
turn to shower, I had to get to his cell fast afterwards so
that he could "do" me before the guard came to lock me
in.
It was becoming clearer. I had been right. Sex was on
the boy's mind. I decided to play innocent, and asked
him what he meant. I heard him groan and then giggle,
and he replied, "You know. You take care of me, and I
will take care of you."
When I asked him how we would take care of each
other, figuring that he meant giving hand-jobs to one
another, he sighed telling me that I could not be that
dumb. Deciding that I might just be that dumb, he
elaborated. "When I come to your cell you do me. You
know, like blow me. When you come to my cell, I'll
blow you too."
I stood in silence taking in what the boy had said. I had
not sucked another male's dick since I was eleven. That
time it had been with my best friend. We decided that
sucking each other felt much better than jacking off. It
was a childhood thing which had occurred from the time
that I was about six or seven until I had just turned
twelve and began to ejaculate. After that I had never had
anything to do sexually with other males until that boy
stood out in front of my cell asking me to blow him.
My silence must have bothered the boy, because he
asked me if I were still there. I replied that I was. In the
next breath I asked him how old he was. He had looked
very young when he stood in front of my cell naked and
hard. I could not even begin to guess at his age. I
thought that if he were in that place, he had to be at least
eighteen.
When he told me that he had just turned sixteen, I was
stunned. I did not know what to say. I had heard from
others that asking someone about their crime was taboo
behind the walls, and so I refrained from asking. The
boy was the only person that I had talked with since I
arrived, and I didn't want to blow that. I laughed to
myself at my own joke.
Things went quiet for a while. I heard the boy lay down
on his bunk, and I wondered if I had hurt his feelings
somehow. I wanted to call out to him, however, I
decided that I would wait for him. I wanted friendship
badly, and the cute young boy appealed to me in a big
brother-kind of way, however, I was sure that I could
not have the type of friendship that he wanted.
Long after dinner the boy remained silent. After the
guards had made their early evening rounds, and the
block was beginning to quiet down, I heard him call out
to me. Moving closer to the bars, I listened for his
whisper.
"What's the matter," he asked, "am I too ugly?" I could
hear the hurt in his voice. He had been rejected, and it
seemed as if he were not use to rejection. I told him that
he was far from ugly.
"Am I too old? Do you just like little boys?" his
wounded voice asked. At first I thought that he was
being cruel, but I soon realized that he was asking an
honest question, no malice was intended by him.
I told the boy that I didn't like little boys, and that I
didn't "do it" with boys at all. The boy was silent for a
few more minutes before he responded. "You don't have
to lie to me. I want to be your friend. I will be your
boy."
After a few more moments of silence, he blurted out
what was on his mind. " I know what you are in for. We
all heard the guards talking. You were busted for fucking
little boys. In this block it ain't no big deal. There are
four other guys here for boys."
I stood quietly for a few minutes taking in what he had
said. I almost laughed out loud. Either someone had their
wires crossed, or they had heard wrong. I was in for
having sex with little girls not boys. I wondered how
that mistake had been made.
"I won't say anything to anybody. I don't have anybody
here or outside. I will be your boy. I'll do anything for
you." I heard the boy's voice crack when he said that,
and I could tell that he was close to tears if he was not
already crying.
END ACT TWO
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