Slices Of Small Town Life Ch. 04

His ruthlessness against his enemies never came to light, for one because no on would believe them, and for another, they were closely guarded secrets.

...

Bobby Petersen woke up to a pounding headache, touching his nose and groaning. It was his welcome to prison present, as Charley had promised. He couldn't believe the judge gave him a sentence that meant he wouldn't be up for parole for twelve years. He got eighteen months added for breaking the cat's leg when he threw it, what assholes!

It got worse when he found out he was going to serve his time at Rockwell, a supposedly medium security unit with the worst reputation in the state. He'd been inside for twelve hours before his nose got broken, spent another day in the infirmary before being assigned a cell. The man was huge, six eight and three hundred pounds, mostly bulging muscles. He backed Bobby into a corner when the guards left.

"Here's the deal. Someone I'll never know is making sure my mother has the health care she needs and a decent apartment as long as I keep you in line. So listen close. You're my bitch from now on, until I leave. You do what i say, when I say it, and you don't talk back. it would be very bad if you talked back. And I can beat the hell out of you anytime I want, as long as I don't touch your face."

"You will let your hair go long, and one of the older bitches will teach you how to use makeup. You gonna be my bitch, you gonna look like a bitch. Now, get those clothes off, and crawl over here. You need to show your new Daddy how special you are."

Bobby sobbed softly as he disrobed, then dropped to his knees and crawled over. Charley was right, with his broken nose he almost passed out from lack of oxygen while his Daddy fucked his face.

In six months, Bobby looked so much like a woman there were actual fights over him. His Daddy pimped him out every once in a while, and the inmates made a game over tattooing their gang signs on to his ass. By the fifth year it was so covered there was nowhere to put a mark. He had a new Daddy by then, who had some kind of deal from the outside that kept him reasonably safe. His new Daddy was a lot gentler than his first, not liking to share him, and Bobby, locked in that place with that mindset, fell in love. He cried like a baby when his Daddy got released. After three months of being traded like baseball cards by his new Daddy, he was suddenly released early for good behavior. His father had quit seeing him after six years, and there was no one to meet him. As the crowd thinned out, he saw his prison Daddy, the one he liked, waiting. He ran into his arms, and he took him home. He got him a pair of small implants, had his eyebrows shaped, and made him wear corsets to outline and accentuate his figure. Bobbi ended up working at a cosmetics counter while he worked on motorcycles, and a year later they married. So depending on how you look at it, no matter what Charley put him through, he found his only version of happiness in the end.

Bobbi read about him dying, news carried by the national chains because of the ones attending the funeral, and it barely made a dent in his consciousness. Besides, the second child they had adopted was teething, and having a terrible time. He walked him, cooing to him, feeding him ice chips until he went to sleep. Oddly, his name was Charley.

...

Well, there it is, the end of the story. Originally it was to be two more chapters, but I was anxious to get to something else, so I lumped them together. For the next two weeks, I intend to work on nothing but the last chapter of Finding An Editor and two more Brother Love chapters. I might squeak one more in, something that's almost done.

One more thing. I can't possibly return all the emails I've gotten noting sympathy for my health issues. Many of you have shared your health issues with me, making mine insignificant in comparison. I'd like to take this time to thank everyone, and wish those with health issues a speedy recovery. Thanks for reading, it does mean a lot to me. Vote if you want, but please vote on the content, not on emotion or in retaliation for a score you didn't like. That adds nothing to the process.

Q