Millie and Jake Ch. 01

Jake Carson never was a truly good man, but he was gentle. A woman likes a gentle man. A man might be an idiot; he might be careless, dirty, or even unpretty, but, if a man is gentle, he will get a look see from a woman, from most women. Oh, and if he can make a woman laugh; well, he wins.

Problem with Jake was he was getting looks from the police too, and they weren't laughing. Jake liked cars, not a problem. But, liking other people's cars enough to steal them that tended to be a problem. So now Jake was in prison, or, actually on his way there. His wife, Millie, was going to see him for the last time before he headed north. See him off, it sounded to her almost like he going on a cruise, when she said it, but Chico was no cruise. He would be away for ten years. Oh, with good behavior, he might be out in four or five. Millie just wanted to smash his face for doing this to her. She loved him, but she was angry, justifiably angry!

Her situation? Desperate. She had no money; the lawyer had got all that there was. She had no job, but she had to get one in a hurry. The rent on their house would be due in three weeks, and then the pressure would be on.

******

She hated the place, the visitors' complex at the county lockup: there was a receiving entrance that all, who wanted clearance, had to traverse before getting to the outdoor visiting area in the back. It was a forbidding place, the visitors' area, heavy rolls of concertina razor wire topped a twelve foot high chain link fence. Rows of polished steel two person tables with built in stools were the only furniture in evidence. Jails were not nice places.

They searched her whenever she came in; they searched all of the visitors. And it wasn't pleasant; it was invasive and personal, and dirty. The guards, the women guards, were worse than the men. They seemed to take pleasure in hurting and humiliating the wives. But, no matter how bad it was for the wives, it was worse for Jake and the other inmates.

The worst? He had told her once. It was watching her walk away, back to her car while he had his fingers entwined in the chain link of the fence watching her go. Watching her cross the parking lot that abutted the fence, knowing she was going somewhere that he could not follow. Watching her walk away and not be able to go with her, not able to stop at the store with her; not able to comfort her when she was alone and broke and sick or worried about him, or anything.

And of course there was the absence of sex. None for him at all, unless one of those stinking bastards in the prison made him his bitch. Oh, and no sex for her either—unless she cheated. And, how could he call her a cheater; he had cheated her out of a big piece of their lives together. He was the cheater, the worst kind.

Millie knew it happened, the homosexuality. She was sick for him, worrying about him. Jake was her husband and she loved him. Gawd why! Why those stupid cars!

"Hi baby," he said, as he took a seat on the stool across the table from her.

"Hi." she was trying not to cry. "Oh Jake, when you get out, never again, okay. We won't even have a car. We'll walk or take cabs, but no cars, okay?" she said.

"You got it baby. I know I've said it a thousand times since the trial, but I am so sorry. I am so sick at heart for what I have done to you, to us," he said.

"How did the job interview go?" he said, trying to change the subject.

"Okay I think. I think I will get the job; I just don't know how soon I'll be starting, maybe in a couple of weeks."

"Call my parents. I talked to mom yesterday. They can help till you get your first check," he said.

"Okay, Jake, I will. I'll get by somehow. There's a wives' support group too. I will be going to that tonight. They're supposed to be able to help out when one or another of us is in tough straights. Anyway, I'm gonna go and see."

"Good Millie. Good. There's something else I have to ask you," he said.

"What's that, Jake?"

"You know I'll be headed north tomorrow. It's about a three hour drive, so I hear; that's pretty far, I know. Will you be able to still visit me sometimes? I mean we've talked about it, but I didn't know then where I would be taken until now," he said.

"Every month, Jake. I promise you that. If I can't because of illness or something, I will get a message to you. Maybe through your mom. But, I will be there on visiting day if I can be, you can depend on that."

He smiled. "You know they have trailers there, I mean at Chico."

"Trailers?"

"Yeah, so that husbands and wives can be alone and together for a little while. Maybe even overnight sometimes. I mean when you visit," he said.

"You mean—for—sex?"

"Yes. I know it's going to be pretty rough for the both of us having no sex. But, well, it's only a thought," he said.

"Just like you Jake, always thinking about my pussy."

"The most beautiful thing in the world, baby, I'm an expert on your pussy."

She smiled and then laughed. It was the first light moment in all of the six visits she'd had with him at the county jail. "Just behave inside that place, Jake," she said. "I need you out as soon as possible. I really need you, okay. I mean I really need you," she said, with as much emphasis as she could.

The hated voice came over the loudspeaker announcing the end of visiting hours. They weren't supposed to touch, but Macon was on duty. So he leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. Some of the guards were a little more human than others.

She turned to go. At the gate, she turned back and gave him a little wave.

She couldn't see it as she dodged an oncoming car to get to hers at the back of the lot. But he swallowed hard before beginning to cry yet again as he watched her go; his fingers grew white as he squeezed the wire wall.

Most people never think of the feelings that inmates have, he thought to himself. Bad though many of them were, and others unlucky, all of them had feelings and almost all of them were in pain, bad mental pain.

******

There were some twenty women, jammed into the little hall on the second floor of the county lockup, waiting for the facilitator, the one who would lead the meeting and give the wives some of their options.

Millie sat between two black women. The one to her right was comely and young and slim; she was also as nervous as Millie was.

"Ever been to one of these before," said the woman.

Millie looked at her as though she were interrupting. It was embarrassing for her to be there among the other women, all of whom shared one thing in common: their husbands were one and all convicted criminals.

"No. First time," said Millie, deciding to be agreeable if not enthusiastic.

"Me too. My man's in for burglary," said the woman. "There won't be a second time; he gets this one mistake and that's it as far as I'm concerned."

Millie looked at her as though to say: that's pretty cold lady with your husband going inside tomorrow, but she left it alone.

"My Jake's in for stealing cars. Shit!" She said suddenly, "We didn't need the damn money; he did it for thrills. Now I'm gonna be paying too," said Millie between clenched teeth.

Her new acquaintance nodded her understanding. "All of us here in the same boat," said the woman. "I'm Jill Reynolds. My husband, Daniel, is on his way to Chico. Yours too?"

"Yes. Three fucking hours up the road, at least so my husband told me," said Millie.

"Yeah, that's about right, I know the area. Never been to the prison, but I know the town," said Jill.

"I'm kinda afraid of going up there. How about you?" said Jill.

Millie hadn't thought that far ahead, but now that someone else had brought it up, she realized she wasn't very comfortable with the idea either: all of those killers and rapists and thugs and such!

"Hadn't thought much about it, but I guess I can do it," said Millie.

"Oh, I'll do it, we all will, but that little asshole of mine will pay for doing this to me," said Jill. "I ain't takin' this layin' down."

Everybody came awake as a stout middle aged woman with frizzy hair and a rough hewn profile entered stage right and came to the front.

"Good evening ladies," she said. "My name is Mildred Doyle. I'm with County Social Services, and I'm here to give you some of your options and to answer any questions that you may have, or try to at any rate."

"Let's begin..." She spoke for some twenty minutes and asked for questions.

Leaving the meeting, Jill pulled Millie aside, and said, "Hey girl, would like some company on your visit next month. I mean we could go together and see our men and then we wouldn't be so—vulnerable, so alone."

"I—I don't know," said Millie. She paused, "Wait, on second thought never mind. Yes, I guess that would fine.

"You wanna drive or me," said Millie.

Jill looked guilty.

"What?" said Millie.

"I don't drive," she said. "I don't have a car either. I do have gas money though."

Millie smiled. She realized that the girl had played her. But it was not a biggee for her, not if the other girl bought the gas. "Okay, Jill, if you by the gas, all of it, I will do the driving. Deal?"

"Deal," said a happy and relieved Jill. "And you can pick the day. Neither of our guys are in for child abuse or drugs or stuff like that, so we'll be able to visit next month no problem. Some of the gals in there tonight might not be able to see their men for a while, and for sure they'll be getting no family visitations."

"What are those exactly? I mean what's the difference between a visit and a family visitation?" said Millie.

"You know, the trailers," said Jill.

She remembered what Jake had said about the trailers. "Oh yeah, I didn't know what they were called." She said.

"Yeah, at Chico you can stay overnight if you're cleared," said Jill.

Millie was surprised. "That Social Services woman didn't say anything about that. She just said we'd get the rules in the mail about visitations."

"That's because she doesn't have anything to do with the Department of Corrections, the DC," said Jill. "She's Social Services. She was here to see who among us needed to get a job or needed help with formula for the baby and the like."

"Oh. Well, I got a job, I think. That's why I didn't raise my hand to fill out that form. How about you? You didn't get one of the forms either."

"Oh yeah, I've got a job. And my pimp let's me keep sixty percent of what I earn; it's better than what some of those bums out there give their girls," she said.

Millie stopped cold, frozen in her stride. "You're a..."

"Call girl, but next door in Nevada. It's legal," said Jill. "Hope that doesn't queer us, I mean we're still on for the ride, right?"

"Uh—I guess—yeah, if you're a legal..."

"Whore, you can say it," said Jill. "I'm not ashamed of what I do. I'd be ashamed if I were a politician or some of those cops. I got a half dozen of each in my appointment book." She began to laugh out loud at the thought of it.

"Really?" said Millie

"Hell yeah, really," said Jill.

******

Millie picked up Jill at a coffee shop around the corner from her "real" apartment, that, opposed to the one in Nevada that she used for business.

Both were dressed appropriately, according to the rules the DC set forth for the prison" no spaghetti straps, no short skirts, jewelry minimal, and easily searchable purses.

"Ready to go?" said Millie to her new found acquaintance.

"Yeah, I guess. Let's do it," she said.

The drive was going to be a long one: a good opportunity for each to get to know the other.

The first few miles were relaxing and the two wives were quiet. Jill broke the silence.

"It's gonna be a little bit strange," said Jill.

"Yeah for sure. I just hope I don't break down and cry," said Millie.

"I'm not going to cry," said Jill. "My man deserves to be punished for what he's done. It doesn't mean I am going to love him any the less, but he deserves what he's getting and that's the long and the short of it."

"Gal, that's cold," said Millie.

"You think! Well, I wouldn't have to be driving to some prison to visit him if he had thought of me and us first, would I? I wouldn't be forced to be doing without my husband and his comfort and his cock for the next five years, would I? I tell yuh, girl, it's me that doesn't deserve to be punished, but I am going to be anyway. You too, if it comes to that," said Jill.

"I guess you're right, but what is, is. We just have to grin and bear it; well, bear it anyway," said Millie.

"Not me."

"Huh? What are you saying, Jill?"

"Let me ask you," said Jill, "are you going to take a lover? Is anyone after you yet? I mean that you know of?"

"Lover? You mean am I going to cheat on my man?"

"Cheat! Hell no. I mean are you going to take a lover and tell that man of yours that you're doing it and get him to not only go along with it but beg you to do it," said Jill.

"Oh yeah, he's gonna beg me to let another man fuck me. Oh yeah, like that's going to happen," said Millie very sarcastically.

"If you work it right, it will," said Jill. "Men are all alike. They will do anything their women tell them to do if they are horny enough. The trick is to make them, first, realize that they have no choice, and second, that it's their privilege to get on their knees and beg us to do as we wish," said Jill.

"What in hell are you saying?" said Millie. She was totally out of sync with her friend's line of thought.

"I'm saying that I am going to turn my man into a cuckold wimp like I should have done long before this and make him like it. That's what I'm saying."

Millie was speechless. Finally, she found her voice. "Do you know something about men that I don't know," said Millie. "I mean is there some magic that you have that makes you think that your man is going to go along with any of this stuff?"

Jill looked at Millie and smiled. "Girl, I'm a prostitute, and a good one. Not only a good one, but an experienced one: I know men. Every fucking one of them can be pussywhipped. There are two things, secrets, to always keep in mind, and then you win."

"Okay, I'll bite, what two secrets?" asked Millie.

"One: a woman must make sure that her man is always secure in his mind that she loves him and only him, no matter how much she plays or what she does that may hurt or humiliate him."

"Geezsus!"

"And two: a woman must keep her man horny 24/7."

"Double Geezsus!" said Millie. "How in hell is he going to feel secure if you're out fucking other guys? It makes no sense."

"Men make no sense. If he's horny he is only thinking with his dick. He only cares that after his wife is done getting screwed that she comes home to him and feeds him all of the gritty details. They love to hear it, all of it, especially how you felt while you were getting it. Making your man a cuckold actually frees him to love you more than he ever could in a vanilla lifestyle.

"Millie, I've been with a busload of men, and I am telling you it's a fact. Men want their women to rule over them and many if not most want their women to cuckold them, even if they don't realize it," she said.

"Are you going to tell Daniel that today?" said Millie.

"Yes. He'll cry at first, and then I'll comfort him. And by the time I leave he'll be on his knees begging me to be happy and to just be sure and visit him next month. I will, and I will share all of the details with him too. I will humiliate him and take his manhood away from him, and then give it back to him in small doses. I guarantee you, girl, when I finally get that man of mine back from that prison, he will be my perfect little cuckold slave. I fucking guarantee it."

Millie was taking it all in. At first incredulous, then noncommittal, then in tacit agreement; she began to rethink how she was going to deal with a husband who would be away for possibly as many as ten years. She mentally decided to play it by ear. All of the things Jill had said, and that she was saying from experience not just from pique at being in a bad situation was something: tantalizing maybe, interesting certainly.

******

It was almost 11:00AM before they arrived. The wives and girlfriends had all been frisked and cleared, and they were milling around in the outdoor visiting area of the prison waiting for their men. Millie caught sight of Jake almost immediately. A few yards down the mild incline, Jill was still waiting for her Daniel to appear.

Millie saw that Jake saw her too and she plopped down on the bench of the small picnic table that she had staked out.

He came over, greeted her, kissed her hard on the lips, and slid in across from her, elbows on the table. "I love you," he said.

Her smile of appreciation was wan but warm. She wanted to get down to brass tacks, but she knew that this first time she'd have to go a little bit slower. She reminded herself that she was going to play it by ear. They were looking at a minimum of four or five more years of this visiting stuff, and it wasn't going to be easy.

Millie could not know her man's mind at that moment. Unbeknownst to her he was about to open the floodgates of freedom for her. Jake had made up his mind to tell his womanh something he had long wanted to tell her, but had been t0o much of a pussy to dare; now it made sense to do so—boy did it ever.

Jake was six-foot three, one-hundred and ninety pounds, of dark-haired stubborn male macho. That he loved his wife was a total given; that his intelligence was not likely to be useful in the field of rocket science, at any level, was also a given. But, he wanted to do something to prove his devotion, and more than his devotion, to the woman of his dreams and his soul hope of maintaining his sanity over the next several years.

The solution he was about to propose was not without its risks, but he believed firmly that he and Millie could make it work. Well, they could that is if Millie were to buy into his idea. He'd know immediately if he had thought wrong. Her initial reaction to what he was about to say would clue him; he knew it.

Jill's husband arrived just as Jake was about to lay out his ideas. Millie waved back to Jill in answer to Jill pointing to her man before sitting down to talk to him. The two women would have much to talk about in a few hours.

"Someone you know?" said Jake noting the hand waves of recognition between the two wives.

"Yes, someone I met at the meeting. The one I told you I was going to the night before you left.

"You okay?" she said, hoping he was.

"It's relative," he said. "You're not with me, so it's very relative."

Right answer, she thought. "I know. I wish I were. I need you. It is very lonely without you. It's been only a little over a month, and already I am lonely as sin," she said."

"Tell me about it; it's very lonely without you too," he said.

"Jake, have they done anything to you? You know..."

"You mean am I some guy's bitch? We talked about this before when I was still in county. I don't want to burden you with my problems. I know you've got enough pressures out there without my adding mine," he said.

"Honey, I need to know." She paused, suddenly it was clear to her. "But then, I know already don't I. You would have denied it if nothing was happening. The one thing about you, Jake, that I could always depend on, was that you never lied to me, not once, not even about little things.

"You can't bring yourself to lie to me now, can you, so you dodge the question. Well, I have another one for you. Tell me, how bad is it? I want to know, Jake. I need to know."

"Maybe once or twice a week," he said. He was looking down when he said it. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"Tell me?"

"Mostly oral," he said. "Sometimes..."

"They fuck you! Oh Jake, I will talk to our lawyer, the police, something has to be done to protect you. You don't deserve this. There has to be a way to stop it and to punish the bastards who are forcing you to do those things," she said, her eyes tearing up.