Close Quarters By Black Pony of Death 1 There he was. The barred door slammed tightly behind Harold, sealing him in tight for what he knew to be at least 15 years. The place was surprisingly silent... Nobody yelled any threats on the way to his cell, though many of the seasoned inmates stared at the 7 new arrivals as they passed. There was a variety, each a different race to be put in his own cell with God only knows who... God only knows what. Harold happened to be a rabbit. Rabbits like him were play-things in prison, but he didn't know that yet. How would he know? He'd spent his years over books of more important subjects, maths and sciences, and philosophies, music and culture. Prison seemed to be something he'd never see in his life for he was an ignorant, law-abiding egghead, knowing nothing of what awaited him. He figured all references to rape and torture were exaggerated, and he feared mostly for his own life at this point (which was a legitimate concern). He looked around with wide, scared eyes, and it seemed the entire prison looked back... as if it were an organic, living being. He was small at 5'7", yet plump weighing in at 150. He couldn't stand tall and had no sense of confidence about him. He wore glasses and had cute locks of dark curly headfur. He looked young for 25. Used to be a librarian, until he was accused of rape... which of course, he didn't commit. They have tests for female virginity, but not tests for male, of course... and besides, he was no stranger to masturbation. Harold was a "deviant" as his mother once said in anger, having found him at 12 wearing her underwear. He was fine with that, but it was part of his downfall. Should a man happen to be wearing the panties of a girl he likes, while... let's say "tending to his needs"... that's certainly going to work against him in this case. All they needed was a little seamen (unfortunately in the right spot, due to his tendency to like to rub the finished product on the inside all over where her vagina would be) and that was enough to bring him into question. Of course the girl was raped by someone else... who would have had her killed if she came forward. Her cowardliness and Harold's deviancy were enough. He was caught by her, after all, the night following the rape. With no parole, 15 years of his life would be wasted now... if he survived. As said earlier, in his new, bright orange two-piece jumper, Harold looked around his new home. It was very small, had a toilet and a bunk, and he had a cell mate. A black Angus bull was on the upper bunk, on his back with his arms resting under his head. He breathed silently, yet Harold could feel his warm breath from almost seven feet away. His eyes were shut and he looked relaxed... perhaps he was asleep. He wasn't a very large creature to be sharing the cell with, but Harold knew not to bother him. At least he looked like a nice guy, despite his muscular and intimidating appearance. "Get some sleep," came a deep, soothing voice from the bull's direction. "You've been through a lot." Not expecting to be shown kindness from the first veteran inmate he met, Harold tried to acknowledge his kindness with a thank you. "Get some sleep," said the bull again. Harold laid down on the lower bunk, in the same fashion as the bull... he didn't feel like sleeping and must've been up for an hour. It was later in the day when he arrived, unusual for new arrivals... soon it would be time for dinner. The last thing Harold remembered seeing before he woke up was the food delivery slot at the door... they were to seldom leave their cell, but they would occasionally for exercise/a bit of free time, a shower, lunch, and hard labor for those who's sentences carried it. Harold's did not, but he would be given the menial job of cleaning to do later for a few hours here and there. Though they were in their cell most of the time, prison life would be a lot more complicated than Harold could have ever imagined. 2 Harold dreamed of better times. He didn't know he was dreaming and would have preferred to stay asleep... even not existing and feeling no pain for a little while was better than what he had to look forward to for the next 15 years. He had dreams of his family and friends, dreams of the park he liked to study at... under the trees in the open air. Insects buzzing, and occasionally lighting up the warm air in the summer months. It felt real to him. The breeze washed everything away. He was going to have to get used to a different reality, however. "Wake up." Said a deep voice. Harold opened his eyes. He couldn't see... everything was blurry, for he'd had his glasses removed. All he knew is kneeling above him was a very large dark figure, and he could feel the warm breath of this powerful creature. He was handed his glasses and put them on. Above him was the bull, who was silently staring at Harold... never blinking. "Good morning." Said the bull. "It's about 3 AM. They brought us food hours ago. Hungry?" "Yeah." Harold said, nervously. "Good, good," the bull passed him a tray with some yellow mush on it. "Eat." Hungry enough to eat a horse, Harold wolfed down the food with a plastic fork, provided by whomever brought the food. The bull stared at him the whole time... it made Harold uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore it. "What're you in for?" the bull asked, with a smile. Harold turned to him... was he serious or just messing with him? The question seemed to cliched he didn't know how to answer it. Finally Harold spoke up: "I... don't want to talk about it." "Molest a kid?" Asked the bull in a deep, yet quiet voice. "Better off shutting up about that if you know what's good for you." "No!" Harold said, setting down the tray with a bit of force. "Rob somebody, rape somebody, kill somebody... doesn't matter," said the bull. "You're here now." "I didn't do it," said Harold, sadly, looking away. The bull pulled his gaze towards him and looked directly into Harold's eyes with a cold, unblinking stare. "I believe you," said the bull, who got up and started stretching against the cell door. 3 After a few minutes of silence, staring out the bars of the cell door, the bull finally spoke up "What's your name?" "Harold," replied the rabbit, sitting up properly, yet shaking a bit. The bull remained silent, not taking the cue to introduce himself. "Harold, I'm a nice guy," he said, sitting on the bunk beside Harold. "You look like a smart bunny, so allow me to explain something to you." Harold looked up at him, ears poised. "In prison, we divide ourselves up by race into groups... You're a rabbit, so you'll be with the rabbits most likely. We're not given a lot of free time in here, but we're very active here during... you know what I mean?" The bull patted Harold's head. "These rabbits, they're going to take one look at you and a make a decision before you even know it... they'll gang rape you." Harold recoiled in horror and started breathing heavily. "Yes, it's true," said the bull, again, smiling. He grabbed Harold by the mouth and parted his lips. "One of them will hold a shiv to your throat, another will go at this end, while," he reached towards Harold's large rump with his other arm, "the one with the blade to your throat will probably be checking out that tight ass of yours. They'll all get a go, and when they've all had their fun, you're their thing... if they don't like you or something better comes their way, they'll trade you for it. You'll be traded again and again, and, sufficing to say, it will be a very sore time for you." "I'll call for a guard," Harold said. "He'll stop them." The bull's booming laugh echoed through the cell. "You'll call a guard? The guards are here to keep you and me from leaving, and that's all! You think they're not in on it, too, if they can get something? The only difference between the guards and us is we've got a sentence to carry out... and they're obliged to help us do just that." Harold stared off into space... not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. He was scared and the bull could see it in his eyes. The bull still asked, "are you scared?" Harold nodded. 4 "Well, Harold," the bull rubbed his dark brown curly headfur. "Sounds like you need protection. I think I might be able to help you..." The scared bunny looked up at the towering bull with poised ears as he stood tall. "Harold, my friend, I can keep the gangs away from you. Your bunny butt won't be gang raped, you won't be traded." He actually looked relieved to be hearing this... he was too exhausted, too scared to be processing anything other than there's another way. The bull smiled because he knew this. "It doesn't come free, though," the bull pulled open the top half of his jumper, pulling it over his back exposing his rock hard abs, defined shoulders, lats, and pecks. Harold already knew where the bull was going with this the moment he undid his jumper. He pulled back on the bunk, and had an automatic reaction: "No!" "You really don't have a choice," said the bull, pulling down the lower half of his jumper and stepping out of it. He was now nude. "Well, I'll give you one choice," the bull reached for the rabbit's face and parted his jaws, forcing his mouth into an O-shape. "In your mouth or in your bottom!" The bull pulled Harold towards his massive body. Harold fought as best he could, staring at the sizable bull's uncut cock and balls, knowing that his efforts were futile and soon enough the bull would get his way. He fought hard... harder than the bull thought he would... but was no match, and his objections simply served to turn his soon-to-be rapist on even more. "Come're," said the bull, grabbing Harold's hips with both arms and pulling hims towards him. "I'm a man of my word, be my bitch and the protection is yours... don't and you're dead. Accept it. You know it... and I'll have it anyway by dawn." "Stop!" Harold pleaded. The bull grinned, for this did nothing for the rabbit but exasperate his situation. "Just suck my dick, bitch," said the bull. "It'll be over before you know it. Especially if you don't stop squirming." Harold had one shot, or so he thought, and he took it... winding up with his foot he kicked as hard as he could towards the bull's genitals. The bull never saw it coming and he made a direct hit. The bull fell over, writhing in pain... for a moment. "Jesus Christ," said the bull, rolling on the ground, holding his junk. "Don't you see how you're going to benefit from this?" The bull got up with red in his eyes, the first tiniest bit of feeling expressed in them at all. "Okay, no more Mister nice guy..." Harold's feet were grabbed first so he couldn't kick again. He managed to land a blow first with his foot into the bull's stomach, but it did little good. He tried to hit him as he was pulled to his feet, blows connecting but doing no good. The rabbit had one more defense... he tried to bite the bull's face, but the bull wasn't going to have any of that. He slapped Harold, very hard, his glasses flying from his face. He couldn't see. He was disoriented, and the bull was doing what he could to make sure Harold couldn't tell his lefts from his rights, his downs from his ups... all he could feel was the bull's hot breath as he was then slammed stomach first into the cell wall. 5 "I've made the decision for you," the bull said, as he pulled Harold's jumper down a bit passed his hips, exposing his large rump. "You've got a fine ass, Harold." "No please," Harold said, as the bull smeared his wet cock against the bunny's cheeks. "I'll... I'll suck your dick." "It's too late, Harold," said the bull, pulling the smaller rabbit tight against the cell wall, and getting himself into position. "You're cute from this position, you know," the bull stroked his brown, curly headfur. Harold quivered as he felt something made of cloth slip around his neck: "This pink bandana," said the bull, tightening it. "This means you're mine. Wear it all the time and you'll be a ghost here." "No..." Harold wined, as the bull licked the back of his neck. Harold didn't get a chance to plead again. The bull smashed the left side of his face into the wall so hard that Harold's eyebrow split open. He fought no more, feeling woozy and disconnected for a second... he felt the next thing the bull did. The bull made his entrance slowly... Harold's cheeks parted and, upon the forced entry of the very tip of the bull's penis, Harold's body stiffened up. "It'll be worse if you struggle," said the bull, kissing the back of his neck. "Just relax... it'll be over soon." The bull forced it in deeper and deeper. Initially Harold fought. Every bit of thrashing he was doing only served make the pain worse, turning the bull on all the more. Harold's strength left him... he had no choice but to accept what was happening... he knew he couldn't get out of this position if his life depended on it. And who knew for sure it didn't? The bull could easily have AIDS or some other nasty virus. Harold was in too much pain to give that much thought, and after a few slow thrusts the bull's speed increased some. He could feel the bull's warm breath against his neck and back the whole time. The pain of being penetrated was unbearable, but Harold fought the urge to cry out as best he could. "There," said the bull, pumping at what would be considered a slow pace. "Good. You're relaxing some. I don't want to hurt you now... just show you who's boss. I'm going to cum in your ass and there's nothing you can do about it." Harold looked back at him with both intense fear in his eye as well as a blush of utter humiliation on his face. "Oh, don't give me that look," said the bull, biting the back of his neck. The next few words were said with a mouthful of white fur: "Not that you can see anymore. I gave you a choice earlier and you blew it, heh." Outside of the cell, everything seemed normal... after a moment, soft, high-pitched crying could be heard, but you had to be right next to their door to hear it for sure. Canceling that out there was an occasional deep snort. Over those sounds (this could be heard throughout the whole block) there was a rhythmic sound: SMACK! SLAP! PLAP! This was heard for several minutes. The speed of the thumping increased some as time went on and eventually loud, pathetic cries were heard, much louder than before, coming from the cell. Finally, there was a release of energy: the two voices cried out together, one in anguish the other in rapture, then... silence. 6 Harold was dressed, in the corner of his cell, staring off into nothingness. The bull was getting dressed with a very satisfied look on his face. Looking down at the broken bunny, the bull gave him a lick across the face: "Like I said, I'm a man of my word." He tugged on the bandanna," no one will bother you now." Harold had nothing to say... it's true, the bull was many things, some of which were quite awful, but he wasn't a liar. He looked down at the pink cloth around his neck... he was the bull's bitch now, but he had a smidge of the larger bovine's respect for putting up a fight like that. 7 The next day Harold kept his head down and tried to tune out his surroundings. He was still in shock over being in prison and having been raped the night before, and was still extremely sore. Fortunately for him (with the exception of his eye) there was no bleeding, despite the fact that that was his first experience with another man. They had breakfast in the cell, then it was exercise time before he knew it, followed by lunch time, which they actually had in a cafeteria. Then he was back to his cell, without his cell mate, who was working hard labor. As said earlier, Harold would be given a menial job in prison, but he would be given several days at first to adjust to prison life before being instructed to work (unbeknownst to him, his cell mate traded with a guard for this, knowing he wouldn't heal as well otherwise). His cell mate finally came in before dark. Harold did not look at the bull and the bull left him alone. It was silent in the cell, but not awkward. Harold had nothing to say to him. Hours passed, dinner had arrived via the food hole and the bull got it, giving Harold his. This time were was something to drink as well, which the bull must have consumed last time while the rabbit was asleep. More time passed, Harold was in and out of sleep. Harold finally felt the bull get up. He was turned away from him but could feel his presence and breath against his body. He turned, adjusting his glasses. Standing before him was his bull call mate, erect penis out, staring with emotionless yet lustful eyes at Harold. Harold sat up, staring at it. The bull didn't even ask Harold as opened his mouth and shut his eyes, leaning towards the stiff member: "Attaboy." Said the bull, running a hand through Harold's cute curls. "You're probably still sore from last night." Harold didn't answer. If he were to try to, it would have come out garbled. Epilogue Every night Harold would give the bull a blow job before going to sleep. It went without saying that the rabbit would swallow whatever came out... and he did, without fail, and vomited it up for the first few weeks afterwards. To him, it tasted awful at first, but it's an acquired taste that after a while he came to tolerate. Eventually he got good at sucking dick, and the bull was almost always satisfied with Harold's performance, only occasionally turning him over to try out the other end. It was done seldom enough that it was always very painful for Harold. Sometimes the bull would share the same bunk with Harold and rarely he would wake up to the feeling of his back end being uncovered... he knew just to let it happen. All he could do was cry, which the bull couldn't get enough of. Harold observed the bull's word to be true. He saw groups raping like members in the showers and the corners, and overheard what he would later realize was slang about trading. These people were like him - soft, didn't belong there, and were innocent or guilty of minor crimes only. Fortunately for Harold, he was only in prison for a few years. His family pushed to get his case tried again and again, and eventually it came to be. With the death of her rapist by a car crash, getting acquitted of the false rape charges was easy as pie. Though the courts were understanding of the original victim, once freed, he showed her no mercy and ultimately sued the pants off of her, but that wasn't enough to get back what he lost. He wasn't a virgin anymore, and he'd lost it in a most unpleasant way, in a way he wished never to lose it... he made sure she knew it one day, when he got her alone. He told her what happened, and how agonizing and humiliating it was for him, and how he praised the Lord for every night he found himself only licking and sucking the bull's uncut dirty member to eventually swallow his seed. She ended up hanging from her basement's rafters the next morning. Harold had nothing to do with that... at least the physical part... all he'd done was talk to her. She left a small note, saying "Harold, I am so sorry!" ? that was all. He spent his life alone, afraid to connect with anybody for all that had happened. He didn't tell anyone else about what happened, and got sick every time he heard references to man-on-man rape. 20 years later he saw a familiar black Angus bull in the supermarket working the register. At first he thought it was just a coincidence, since they were both much older, until he heard that familiar voice and saw those the familiar glass-like eyes staring at him. The purchase was rang up, the cashier knew his name from his card (and was encouraged by the Company to call customers by their first name): "Thanks for dropping by. See you later, Harold."