The Jailhouse Blues Ch. 01

Billie Jo was extremely attractive too, I thought. But in a different way; she had a touch of the exotic about her. Black-haired, dark-brown eyed and olive-complexioned, she was about five foot six, and quite trim; though she was bigger-boned than Bella Donna, and rather more full-figured.

And, just like Bella Donna, just one icy look from Billie Jo could cause any Greystone prisoner to instantly break out in a cold sweat, and turn his blood to ice-water.

If Bella Donna won in the legs' department, Billie Jo certainly won in the breasts'. And, as for their infamous abilities in scaring the crap out of prisoners (quite literally, in some reported cases), just at the sight and sound of their approach ... probably a tie.

Replying to prison officer Bella Donna's questions, prison officer Natalie replied, "Yes, Bel. We've told him; he knows. At least, Mel and me have given him some gist; a general idea, of what his time in Greystone Prison is going to be like. But he seemed a bit dazed by it all; didn't seem able to take it all in. So I don't know how much of what we have told him about his situation has actually sunk in. And anyway, it never prepares them for the experience, does it? You know, the actual realities, of being made to worship prison officers' feet."

Prison officer Billie Jo said, "Well, we'd best get him started then, hadn't we? Start getting him coming to terms, with the actual realities. And the sooner the better, if he's only in for three months."

I could hardly believe my eyes and ears.

Replying to prison officer Melanie, prison officer Billie Jo had remained totally straight-faced, and had spoken in a completely matter-of-fact tone of voice ... They all seemed to be in on it, these prison officers, with their for-a-laugh, ridiculous in-joke conspiracy of prisoner-scaring arrant nonsense. Anyway, I thought, I'd soon learn the truth ...

Prison officer Bella Donna opened the door to the security checkpoint building, and said her first words to me. "Prisoner Lightwood! Out!" she snapped authoritatively.

Without saying anything, I began moving towards the door as instructed.

"Lightwood!" yelled prison officer Melanie, almost making me jump out of my skin. "What did I tell you? I have told you how to respond, when you are addressed by a prison officer!"

Hell! There's no need to shout! I thought - but didn't say.

Besides, prison officer Melanie was right: I should have remembered. This wasn't the sort of place where you were given many second chances; so much, was already beginning to sink in. And I was considering myself lucky that prison officer Melanie hadn't slapped my face again - hadn't straightened me out a bit more.

And I was really going to have to watch my step, with these two - prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo. They both looked is if they would as soon whup you as look at you - prefer, to whup you, in fact.

Turning to prison officer Bella Donna, I said respectfully, "Yes, Miss Bella Donna." And then I started walking towards the door again.

"See you tomorrow lunchtime then, Leonard," jibed prison officer Natalie. "I hope you'll like what's on the prisoners' menu."

"I think it's sole, tomorrow," quipped prison officer Melanie.

"Ha ha ha!" laughed prison officer Natalie. "Yes, Mel. It always is, isn't it? The prisoners' Daily Special!" she quipped back.

At seeing prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo's querying expressions, prison officer Natalie explained. "We've bagged Prisoners' Canteen Service 'firsts'. We're having Lightwood for lunch, tomorrow, Mel and me."

"Bon appetit," said prison officer Bella Donna.

*

Dear reader,

prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo escort me to my cell: Cell 16 - Level 1 ...

Outside the security checkpoint building, prison officer Billie Jo addressed me brusquely.

"Prisoner Lightwood. As we escort you to your cell, on Level One, you will walk three paces behind officer Bella Donna, and I will walk behind you. As you proceed, you will respectfully direct your eyes downward, at all times focusing your attention on officer Bella Donna's feet. I will be monitoring you. And if, at any time, I see that you are diverting your attention from officer Bella Donna's feet - whether she be walking, or stationary - we will both cane you on the spot. Do you understand me, prisoner Lightwood?"

I couldn't believe this. What the hell next?

But I'd already sensed that prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo were definitely not to be messed with.

"Yes, Miss Billie Jo," I said respectfully. "I understand you."

With that, prison officer Bella Donna started walking the short distance to the prison, and I got into step, walking three paces behind her.

I had never felt so ridiculous as, as instructed by prison officer Billie Jo, I respectfully directed my gaze downward, at the heels of prison officer Bella Donna's feet; the bottoms of which, were decidedly grubby.

Watching her alternately flashing soles, and listening to her pale blue, thin-rubber soled flip flops repeatedly and annoyingly slap ... slap ... slap ... slapping against the bottoms of her grubby bare heels with precise regularity as she walked sedately towards the prison, I was soon struggling to maintain my focus of attention. Soon struggling with my enforced discipline, as the effort of not allowing my eyes to wander from their accorded subjects became ever more increasingly difficult to sustain ... But I made it.

In maybe three or four minutes, we were 'inside'.

On the ground floor of Greystone Prison, were situated the Governor's office, administration office, the prison doctor's surgery, the prison laundry, the kitchen and the Staff canteen - not that I noticed, at the time, since the focus of my attention had been respectfully directed downwards, upon prison officer Bella Donna's walking feet.

Down in the basement, was the prison officers' gymnasium. There was a bar down there, too, where prison officers could enjoy a post-shift drink in congenial company before heading off home.

Also down there, in the basement area, was the Foot-Massage Room. This was where the prison officers went to get the services of a prisoner's proper, conventional hands-on foot massage. The Governor herself was an occasional visitor, though she would more often call for a prisoner (or two) to be escorted to the privacy of her Governor's office, to avail herself of prisoners' Foot Service ... I would come to know this, from personal experience.

The prison laundry and the kitchen were two of the places where prisoners were assigned work duties ... the lucky ones, that is.

Situated on the upper five floors (Levels) of the square-shaped building, Greystone Prison has 120 cells.

The Levels are numbered: 1 - 5. And there are twenty-four cells on each Level, numbered: 1 - 24.

Each Level has four Wings: North, South, East, and West: six cells, to each of the four Wings.

Each of the five Levels has a contiguous safety-railed walkway. And central to these Wing-to-Wing walkways is an overlook, below which safety-netting is stretched across.

Though there are two lifts - one on the east side of the building, the other on the west - the five Levels are also accessed by means of the similarly situated dark-grey painted steel stairways.

"Right then, prisoner Lightwood," said officer Billie Jo. "You will now follow officer Bella Donna up this flight of steps, and I will follow behind you. Wait until her feet are at your eye level, and then follow her."

What, the ...? I thought. Just how long were they going to keep up their silly charade?

"Yes, Miss Billie Jo," I said respectfully.

As I climbed the flight of steps, with my eyes on a level with prison officer Bella Donna's feet; her flip flops, repeatedly slap slap slap slapping against the bottoms of her grubby bare heels, right in front of my face, I suddenly realised that I had only to divert my eyes very slightly upwards, and I had the most incredible view: right up prison officer Bella Donna's pale blue short skirt!

I found it impossible not to look. ("... by allowing, and encouraging you - no, by tempting, and inciting you - to desire and lust after our bodies ...")

Impossible not to look, as I climbed the steel stairway after her. Impossible not to stare, at prison officer Bella Donna's pale-blue-panties clad bottom. What a sight! It made me wish I was celled-up on Level 5!

Eagerly, I climbed up the dark-grey painted steel stairs ... towards my waiting prison cell.

Just a sneaky peek, wasn't enough. I seemed to have lost all sense of shame - all sense of propriety! And, I found myself thinking with disappointment and dismay, she would soon reach the top of the flight of stairs, and then the exciting little up-skirt peep-show would be over.

So help me, but despite Bella Donna's patently obvious and wholly insurmountable downside, she was still some kind of woman.

I was a young, hot-blooded male, and I found the awesomely exciting view irresistible. I was coming over all flushed. All flustered. Getting all hot and bothered. I was all but drooling, upon ogling the highly arousing sight: the highly arousing sight, of prison officer Bella Donna's pale-blue-panties covered—

"Are you still focusing your attention upon officer Bella Donna's feet, prisoner Lightwood?" came prison officer Billie Jo's voice, right behind me, when we were about three-quarters of the way up the flight of stairs.

"Er ... Yes, Miss Billie Jo," I fibbed.

"Are you focusing your whole, entire, undivided attention upon her feet, just like I told you, prisoner Lightwood?" ("We both saw you, so don't you dare lie to us!")

"Um ..."

I could have sworn I heard prison officer Billie Jo chuckling— no, snickering, slyly.

But prison officer Bella Donna had then reached the landing of Level 1, and the danger was over ... for now.

At the top, prison officer Bella Donna turned to watch me and prison officer Billie Jo come the rest of the way up the flight of stairs ... and she wasn't one for waiting.

Standing in a classic attitude of impatience: with the knee of her right leg bent, and her lower leg extended behind her, and with the tip of the toe end of her flip flop resting on the floor, prison officer Bella Donna did something with her now vertically-positioned right foot; worked her toes, in some way - maybe the same manipulations that prison officers Natalie and Melanie had performed with their desk-propped feet in the security checkpoint building - that caused the heel of her flexible flip flop to repeatedly slap ... slap ... slap ... slap the bottom of her bare heel. "Prisoner Lightwood! Do you think I've got all day? Get a move on!" she said waspishly, her flip flop all the while slap ... slap ... slap ... slap ... slapping away. "Come on! I said: Get a move on!" Slap ... slap ... slap ... slap ... slap ...

"That way, prisoner Lightwood," ordered prison officer Billie Jo, pointing to the right. "West Wing. You are in cell sixteen. Now, again: officer Bella Donna will lead the way ... you know what to do. And don't forget what I'll, be doing, prisoner Lightwood: Watching you. Every step of the way."

"Yes, Miss Billie Jo," I said respectfully.

And then I proceeded as instructed: respectfully directing my eyes downward, and once again focusing my attention upon prison officer Bella Donna's walking feet, the prescribed three paces in front of me.

Not daring to take my eyes away, I watched her alternately flashing lightly tanned soles as her pale blue, thin-rubber soled flip flops slap ... slap ... slap ... slapped away against the bottoms of her bare heels as she walked along Level One's dark-grey painted smooth-concrete floor.

I dared not look away ("it'll be the cane ... or worse"). But, without giving away to prison officer Billie Jo the tell-tale sign of head movement, each time I passed a cell I swivelled my eyes to glance inside, just out of curiosity ... and I received curious glances in return. But pitying, too: the expressions on each of the wretched-looking inmates' faces saying, 'So ... another new prisoner'.

And then I was there. I'd finally arrived: Level 1, West Wing, cell 16.

My home, for the next three months.

Or, so I'd thought, at the time.

*

Dear reader,

I cordially invite you to share the decidedly mean 'home comforts' of cell 16, Level 1, West Wing, Greystone Prison ...

"What's the matter, prisoner Lightwood?" asked prison officer Billie Jo with mock solicitousness, upon seeing my expression. My expression, upon seeing my new abode, for the first time. Sneering-voiced, she asked, "Not what you were expecting?"

I didn't know what I'd been expecting - I'd never actually seen inside a prison cell before - but it wasn't this.

What I saw now, looking through the dark-grey painted bars of the prison cell, certainly wasn't designed to lift my sunken spirits.

Like the cell's bars, the three walls and the smooth-concrete floor were painted the same depressing shade of dark grey.

Bolted to the back wall, one above the other, were two mean-looking bunk beds, with even meaner looking dark grey bedclothes.

Against the left-hand wall, tinted dark-grey was a stainless-steel toilet that had no seat; on its cistern cover a couple of flat-packs of scratchy toilet tissue-paper. Next to the toilet, and of the same drearily tinted stainless-steel colour, was a washstand with just a single, cold water tap.

Against the right-hand wall, leaned two tubular-framed, dark-grey canvas folding-chairs.

And that was about it; the sum total of the sorry cell's contents ... That is, apart from my sorry-looking cellmate. He was sitting on the bottom bunk, staring miserably out at me and prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo.

"What's up? Is the décor not quite to your taste, Mister Lightwood?" jibed prison officer Bella Donna. "Oh, we'll have to do something about that! I'll radio Control, and ask them to get the decorators in pronto, shall I?" she sniped. "Oh, and the carpet-fitters, too; have them lay a nice, thick-piled carpet - the one you've got now is looking a bit threadbare. They'll have a sample book, that you can have a look through and choose; pick the sort of colour and design that's just right for you! And, what about having some nice new furniture delivered as well? Hmm ...? A three-piece suite, maybe? A nice coffee table, too. And maybe you'd like a couple of occasional tables, with matching shaded lamps on them, to give off a nice, soft glow of an evening? That would be lovely, wouldn't it? Or maybe you'd prefer a couple of lava lamps? Oh! I can just see it all now ... Goodness - I might even move in with you! Really, nothing would be too much trouble. I mean, we want you to feel all nice and comfy, and right at home, in Greystone Prison."

Her cruel colleague, prison officer Billie Jo, added, "Yes, prisoner Lightwood. And me and officer Bella Donna will bring in some colour charts, to help you choose your new wallpaper. Personally, I think some nice pastel shades will go well, in here - but of course, we'd let you choose, according to your own personal tastes and preferences. And we'll pick out a few knick-knacks for you, too, shall we? Some nice landscape and seascape prints, perhaps, and a few lovely ornaments? You know, just to help brighten the place up a bit ... I know: and what about a fish tank, with some lovely coloured tropical fish swimming around for you to watch? That would be nice, wouldn't it? Oh! And for a nice finishing touch, what about some lovely new curtains? You know, to complete the ensemble? Ooh ... do you know, I think they would set the whole thing off - especially with some nice, tasselled valances! Me and officer Bella Donna would be only too happy, to help you set up your new home - we know just how difficult it can be, moving in to a new place."

Prison officer Bella Donna all but snarled, "Get in, prisoner Lightwood - and get used to it!"

"Yes, prisoner Lightwood. Get in there!" snapped prison officer Billie Jo. "And you'd better learn to like it - and quick!"

I stood there, hesitating.

It was like looking into the gloomy, profoundly depressing dark-grey interior of Securi-Fem officers Sonia and Sandra's prisoner transport van ... But a hundred-fold worse, from knowing I would be spending some real time in there. I definitely did not want to go in there ... and have the door slammed shut behind me.

Prison officer Bella Donna then said, "Being as we're already here, BJ, why don't we start now, as we mean to carry on? Seeing as you've been enjoying prisoner Chapman's recent ... improvements, would you like to continue to avail yourself of his services? And prisoner Lightwood, here, can provide Foot Service to me."

"Yes, Bel, I would like to carry on using prisoner Chapman's services. Since the ... improvements, I've had done to him, Chapman is a nice, snug, comfortable fit for me - almost like a custom-fit, in fact. Ha ha ha!"

"Right then, BJ. Let's get to it, shall we?"

"Yes, Bel. And the sooner the better. Prisoner Lightwood is only in for three months, according to Nat and Mel, so we'll need to make doubly sure he never has a dull moment."

"A dull moment, BJ - in this place? Ha ha ha!"

"Heh heh heh," chuckled prison officer Billie Jo abominably. "You are right, Bel. There are no dull moments, in here."

"Ah ... This is one of my favourite parts of our job, BJ: being their 'first'. Initiating a new prisoner. I mean, there's nothing quite like it, is there, BJ? They say you never forget your 'first' - and that is certainly true for the prisoners here!"

"I totally agree, Bel. I was prisoner Chapman's first - as I'm sure he very well remembers. And, just like in the old Barry White song from way-back-when, I fully intend to be Chapman's first, his last - his everything. Ha ha ha ha! Do you know, Bel, my mum's still got a huge collection of those Golden Oldies. A big box-set, of those old-fashioned CD things. Timeless, some of those old songs are."

"BJ, you've really made prisoner Chapman your own, haven't you? Sort of ... adopted him, you could say?"

"Yes, Bel. I suppose you could say that. I've been using Chapman for a while. I've had him for ... it's nearly four months, now. Actually, he was originally only sentenced to one month. But he's earned himself another three months' prison time - for disobeying my orders, on three separate occasions. So, happily for me, on each of those three occasions I was able to recommend to the Governor that he be penalised for non-compliance, and that added time be tagged on to his sentence accordingly ... Having said that, though, he's behaved himself since then - he's been a model prisoner ... heh heh heh. And so the downside is I haven't been able to get any more time added on to his sentence. You know, Bel, another nice little top-up?"

"Heh heh heh," chuckled prison officer Bella Donna in understanding.

Surely, I thought, prison officers Bella Donna and Billie Jo were still having me on here, weren't they?

A continuation? A continuation of the wind-up - the ridiculously elaborate prisoner-wind-up charade - that prison officers Natalie and Melanie had started. Just to cruelly keep the ball rolling, as it were, for a bit longer? To maliciously spin out their puerile, but pernicious nonsense, for as long as they could, to try and maximise the already fretting new prisoner's discomfiture?

Prison officer Billie Jo went on, conversationally, "Obviously, I really enjoy using the other prisoners, too - that goes without saying. Variety is the spice of life, and all that. And it's in the job-description, anyway. But ... it's nice to be able to mould, a prisoner. You know, Bel? Get him all nice and used to your own personal ways and likes: get him used to you, personally. So that, when you call him to Foot Service, he'll actually do everything you want - automatically - without needing to be told. And that's where I've got prisoner Chapman right now; at that stage of conditioning. Of course, I still tell him to do lots of things for me. I mean, that's all part of the fun, isn't it? Part of the buzz. Giving them orders - telling them, what to do. Pity ... he's only got one more week to serve, now. But maybe there's something I could do about that ... Do you think?"