3 comments/ 13447 views/ 4 favorites The Rise of Blackdeep Ch. 01 By: SamedisCigarSmoke It was a beautiful day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Jim sipped his coffee as the ferry bobbed gently by the pier. He checked his watch. Things were now officially behind schedule, and he was starting to get stressed. Blackdeep Prison was supposed to run like a watch, but on the other hand he knew the power of wealth and decided to wait. The three new prisoners had arrived last week amid a storm of media coverage. The trial and prosecution of the eponymous heads of Murphy, Murphy and Short, an investments firm that had turned out to be a cover for a ponzi scheme that made Bernie Madoff look like a kid stealing a nickel from his moms purse, had been at the center of attention for the last year and a half. He shifted his paunchy frame and wished things would hurry the fuck up. Today was his last day as the Boat Bitch, as the job was called. The task was widely known to be the worst in the prison, due to the fact that half of the time was spent in a state of mind crushing boredom, and the other fifty percent was spent either on a boat with only a cage to separate you from the cargo of pissed convicts, or cleaning the boat after it had been occupied by the aforementioned hoard of shameless, seasick, possibly intoxicated men. At least today wasn't that bad though, as he got to see some of what he craved most, female flesh, The regular crowd of women in the boat were all black, and all dressed like skanks. Normally he didn't care for darker women, but he couldn't help but admire the plump rumps on display. He was practically gawping at them even though he thought he was being subtle. One of the girls glanced at him and said something he couldn't hear and they all started giggling and looking his way. He turned away, embarrassed, just in time to see the Rolls Royce pull up. The enormous car dwarfed the rustmobiles the other girls had arrived in, and they all had a look of petty jealousy on their faces as the chauffer climbed out and quickly walked around to open the back. A tall, stately looking women in her late 30s stepped out of the back. Her long auburn hair was done up in a tight bun, exactly the same color as the enormous fox fur coat that covered her entire body, leaving only a few inches of ankle and some respectable beige pumps bare. She carried herself with the air of someone who had gotten want she wanted since day one. She strutted up to Jim. "I'm Olivia Short. Take me to my husband," she commanded. She was very beautiful in an extremely posh way, with dark, oval eyes, an arrogant aquiline nose and rich full lips. Jim stuttered back, "Uh, hi Mrs. Short. We're still waiting on a few more, but the boat is ready if you'd like to climb aboard." She gave a disgusted look at the ferry, with its caged cockpit that clearly marked it as a vehicle intended for the transport of criminals, and the whore-looking women already on board. There was a moments silence, then Jim said "...Can I get you a coffee?" as he held up his stinky cup of instacrap. She gave him a withering glare that redefined condescension as he knew it, then climbed on the boat, standing pointedly apart from the other women. Ten more minutes passed, and he grew extremely agitated. He knew he was going to get in trouble for being this far behind schedule, even though the only alterative would have been to abandon the VIPs. He was starting to seriously consider doing just that when the Bugatti's pulled up. He stood open mouthed as the two hot pink supercars pulled up next to the Rolls and the beaters the hoes had arrived in. His jaw practically fell to the ground as the creatures inside emerged. As the first women climbed out of the car the first thing Jim saw was a pair of immaculately toned, lightly tanned legs, from silver roman sandal style stilettoes to mid thigh. Then the rest of the figure came in to view and Jim had to stifle a gasp. It was not the magnificent bust, nor the slim waist and wide hips that promised a wonderful bubble butt. It was her face. As he took in her features, her pale blue cat eyes, her weapons-grade DSLs, her small mischievous nose, all framed by light gold hair, he practically drowned in her beauty. Then he was hit by a sudden jolt as he realized that he recognized that face. He was dimly aware that a raven-haired girl had emerged from the other car, but all he could think of was the blond and the twisting tingling feeling he was getting in the pit of his stomach. As she came within hailing distance he gave a flappy wave and called out to her, "Hey Jenelle!?" His voice cracked. Even under their London-fog style coats, Jim was struck by their bodies as the two women sauntered up. "Jim?" she asked in a tone of amused confusion. Jim felt adrenaline surge from the pit of his stomach and his legs turn to jelly as the women responsible for both the most arousing and the most humiliating moments of his life approached. Jenelle Winters had gone to the same high school as Jim Cunningham. She had been best friends with the dark-haired Sasha Kapowski, (who was currently standing slightly off to the side with an amused look on her face). Even then both girls had been gorgeous, and both knew it. They had been the most popular in the school. Jim had not. In fact, he had pretty much been a joke. Jenelle and Sasha spent their four years perfecting the art of manipulating men, then graduated and immediately started digging for gold. They had climbed the ladder of steadily richer boyfriends until one of the suckers had made the mistake of introducing them to his bosses, the Murphys, at an office Christmas party. They had quickly become involved with the much older billionaires, and, realizing they had hit the jackpot, got them to propose. Jenelle had spent the next few years living the trophy wife lifestyle she had always dreamed of in a huge mansion, while her friend Sasha did the same next door. Jenelle's husband Charles Murphy and Don Murphy, Sasha's husband, were actually unrelated, even though they had the same last name. They had started a business together, which had steadily grown until they came to the attention of the already established old-money Albert Short, who took them under his wing and eventually merged their companies and made them his partners. Jenelle had opted not to change her name, as she privately thought Murphy was a stupid name, and Sasha had actually taken the opportunity to change her last name to Sterling, which she thought sounded better. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she laughed. "Uh, I'm a guard," he said unnecessarily, given his uniform. "Haha how did that happen?" Jim blushed as the fairly deep-rooted psychological reasons he had for being a guard surfaced. Reasons she, and, to a lesser extent Sasha, had played a key role in. He stood there at a loss for words until Jenelle made a big show of being awkward and said, "...Okay... Well, we should probably get going, you're running pretty late." With that, she strode off toward the boat. "Good to see you Jim," spoke Sasha for the first time, her husky voice borderline mocking in tone. Then she turned and followed Jenelle. They had both known about their husbands corruption, but, as they were directly benefiting from it opted to only get some quiet advice from their lawyers about having things put in their name and making sure they would be unconnected when the inevitable happened. Fortunately it had happened in slow motion, and the corporate thieves had time to transfer most of their wealth over to their wives. Then they had been sentenced and sent to the Clearwell Rehabilitation Institute. There they had visited their husbands regularly, partly out of the fondness that had developed over the years and partly because they knew they would lose everything if they left. Clearwell had originally been the home of Albert Short's great great grandfather, which was bitterly ironic. However, that meant staying there had not been that bad, as the estate had not lost much of its luxuriousness upon its conversion to a white collar prison a few years ago. They were allowed free roam of the grounds and had a gym, good food and an Internet connection. It wasn't a prison so much as a pretty good resort that you couldn't leave. They had stayed there for the better part of the year, when a routine inspection revealed the historic buildings had alarming levels of radon and were evacuated immediately. Because of the low threat level of the prisoners staying there, most had either been temporarily released on parole or put under house arrest. Murphy, Murphy and Short had not been so lucky. Their crime had caused such a scandal that the 99% were baying for blood, and no one could stand up to that kind of pressure. Thus they were transferred to Blackdeep. Olivia Short stood at the prow of the boat, fingering her pearls and looking at the island with apprehension. Sasha and Jenelle stood nearby talking excitedly about something. She had gotten to know the younger women well, especially in the time since their husbands had been busted, though they were not exactly friends. Unlike Jen and Sash she came from money and had married out of love, and she felt it was necessary to keep a certain distance from the girls to remind them they were new money. Also unlike Jen and Sash she had not known about her husbands wrongdoings until the day the whistle blew. This, combined with her love for her husband meant she was taking things much harder then the younger women, another reason they didn't quite connect. She saw that stupid little man in the pilots cage, looking fairly ruffled by something. Then she turned and looked back at the island. Blackdeep Prison was a much older, and historical place then Clearwater. It was also much larger. The island it was situated on was a few miles out in the bay and had originally been used as an obsidian mine by the natives hundreds of years ago. During colonization they had turned it into a fortress to ward off the invaders, as it was their only source of the obsidian they made their weapons from. Eventually they were pushed back, and the colonials quickly took over. They were astonished at how deep the natives had dug, and at the glossy blackness of the obsidian walls, which they had never seen in the old world. That was when the island earned its name of Blackdeep, and the colonials quickly adopted the fortress as their own and expanded and improved on it significantly using their superior knowledge of warcraft. It was fortified again in the Revolutionary War and underwent some minor changes when it was famously captured and defended from the confederates by a group of escaped slaves for the entire duration of the Civil War. It was upgraded once more during the industrial revolution, and underwent major renovations during the 40s after the attack on Pearl Harbor, when it was rumored to have undergone significant underground expansion for top-secret military use. When it was converted to a prison a few years ago the state had spent millions to bring the whole place up to state of the art, 21st century standards. The result of this sordid history was a massive and imposing complex that had a jarring mishmash of ancient obsidian ziggurats, cannon-mounted battlements and machinegun outposts, speckled with spanking new guard towers and various dishes and antennae. Olivia was right to be nervous. It had long ago established its dominance as the world's hardest place to get in, or out of. As a result when it became a prison it had quickly developed a reputation as home to the country's most dangerous thugs, gangsters, and Mafiosos, from the ghettos of L.A. all the way to the projects of N.Y.C. And now it was also home to three skinny white guys who stole a bunch of digital money with a laptop. Things were getting choppy now as the ferry approached the famous currents that surrounded the island and Olivia went and sat down as seasickness began to compound with her nervousness, which was not helped by the sight of the black women, who looked as though they might literally be prostitutes. What kind of men were women like these visiting? She was glad her twin daughters Alexa and Penelope weren't here to see what kind of company she was being forced to keep. The black women chattered away casually, while the two rich girls whispered excitedly and cast significant glances at the pilots cage, where Jim struggled against the current. Olivia queasily tried to find a silver lining as the blackness of the island filled her field of vision. At least it was a beautiful day. NEXT: THE SHADOW IN THE DEEP The Rise of Blackdeep Ch. 02 THE SHADOW IN THE DEEP "Cunningham! You are fifteen minutes late! What do you think this is, the girl scouts?" Frank barked as he hauled the gangplank down the dock. Jim winced. He had hoped to at least make it off the boat before this happened. Off the boat and away from Jenelle, ideally. "It's not my fault Lieutenant," Jim whined. "How do you figure that?" "What was I supposed to do, leave without them?" He gestured to the women queuing up to disembark. Naturally the snobby white women had ended up in front. Jim was internally congratulating himself on his uncharacteristically tactful way of saying "They were late as shit" as Frank mulled over this, finally coming to a decision. "I doubt that's going to fly with Captain Takashi, but whatever, give me a hand with this." Jim's stomach gave a little flutter at the mention of Takashi's name, and he reached to help secure the walkway. Now that his attention was no longer required on the tasks of wrangling the gangplank or hassling Jim, Frank did a small double take as he took in the women for the first time. They all wore long coats despite the excellent weather, the two younger sporting London fog style trench coats, which covered most of their bodies except for some bare, toned, calf and strappy silver heels on the blond and some equally nice legs coupled with medium-weave fishnets and lacy black stilettoes on the brunette (although calling her a brunette was a massive understatement; her hair was as black as the stone that surrounded them). Despite this, the coats were both belted at the waist; pulling them tight around their bodies and leaving no doubt that these women were stacked. The older women had on a longer fox fur that concealed just about everything, although even the bulky material wasn't enough to hide her monumental bosom. Jim cringed slightly as Jenelle approached. She looked him straight in the eye, and he noticed that she was significantly taller then he was in her heels. She was still so beautiful she was almost hard to look at, if not more so, then when he had known her last. He writhed internally as the old feelings of longing awoke. Externally, he gave a ridiculous little bow/arm sweep combo as he ushered them ashore. Frank helped them each down the gangway, although this noble behavior suddenly petered out after the three newcomers were down and leaving the usual crowd of hood rats to fend for themselves. He was always astonished how little shame they had, no matter how many times he saw it. One women was wearing denim hotpants cut two thirds of the way up the ass, paired with hot pink fishnets that dug into her juicy backside and contrasted sharply with her dark chocolate skin, as well as a wife beater that had been cut off high enough to show undercleavage. They were sure down to please their men all right. Frank was a lusty man and always looked forward to congenial visit day and the flesh parade it entailed, although he felt a little guilty for having thoughts of that nature about someone other then his wife. Excitedly, he wondered what the ladies might be wearing under their coats. They were regaining their land legs with as much dignity as could be managed in heels and took in their surroundings. "It's so pretty," murmured Sasha, staring at the glittering black sand. The island was roughly wedge shaped, with huge imposing cliffs to the north that sloped all the way down and into a wide beach at the south. They had circled around to the north and through a crevice in the cliffs that any of the passengers would have been hard pressed to find on their own and into this little cove. It was only about two hundred feet wide and the cliffs circled around and loomed over it almost completely, leaving just a small gap that a ship might enter and the little beach hidden from view. She stepped off the peer, a finger of obsidian jutting out from the shore, and reached down to feel the sand. It was pretty much indistinguishable from baking flour. "Its so soft," she exclaimed, rubbing it between her fingers. "Its because of the cove," Frank explained. "The water gets in here and just circles around and around and grinds it down that fine. This is actually the only place you can get on or off the island with a boat; the south beach has shards so sharp and is so wide you couldn't make it across it in combat boots. This peer and dock house are some of the oldest parts of the complex." He gestured to the squat bunker, carved straight from the stone of the cliff. "Interesting," said Sasha, not sounding interested. "I bet it would be nice to sunbathe on." There was a brief pause as they both took a minute to imagine her in a bikini, her milky white skin contrasting wonderfully with the hard glitter of the powdery black sand. It was an image they both enjoyed. Once everyone was off the boat they trooped over to the dock house, which contained an elevator set into the cliff, leading up into the main block. Frank led the ladies in, then quickly shut the cage despite there being plenty more room and pulled the lever before anyone could react, leaving Jim with the skanks. That suited him just fine. He was anxious to get away from Jenelle, although his old lust for her was returning at an alarming rate. Eventually the lift came back down. As they ascended he felt a tightening in his penis as he thought of her. He had not yet allowed himself to consciously relive the memory that tortured him so, although it had danced around the edge of his mind and he knew he would have to face it soon. The lift ground to a halt and he slid back the cage revealing the three ladies and Frank, talking with Captain Takashi and the Warden. They broke off their conversation and looked over at him as the cage clanged home. The Warden looked at him and then pointedly at her watch. Jim gulped, Takashi was one thing, but he hadn't realized the Warden was going to be here. "Fifteen minutes!" she cried as she quickly crossed the room accompanied by the sound of her death heels. Then she was right up in his face. "Tell me, what is your current role in this prison?" Jim flinched. He was intimidated by Captain Takashi because of how attracted to her he was; he was intimidated by the warden because she was intimidating. Her fierce green cat eyes bored into his, and her fiery red hair was pulled back into a severe topknot. "Uh, I'm the Boat Bi- Ferryman." "So your job is to make the boat run on time" "...Yes." "If the boat isn't on time, you're not doing your job." "But its not that simple-" "Oh yes it is," she cut him off "in fact its so simple that if anything like this happens again, you're going to need to find another job. Do I make myself clear?" The room was dead silent. He couldn't speak so he just nodded his head, humiliated to be chastised like this in front of all these people, especially Jenelle and Takashi. There was a moment's pause, then: "Good." She softly stepped back, tugging at her power skirt. "Now that we're all here we can get started. My name is Christa Henderson; I'm the Warden here at Blackdeep. Now before we can let you into the prison proper, there are some rules and regulations that need to be understood. First of all-" "Excuse me ma'am," one of the black women spoke up. "We've heard this a thousand times, we get it, it's a scary place, can we just get the show on the road?" The Warden's eye twitched as it looked her over. Whatever. She knew she was right, these women were here almost as much as the guards it seemed like. "Fine, this is mostly for the benefit of these three anyway." She gestured to the hos. "Frank, you and Jim search them, then take them down to the visitation rooms." Frank grinned. He loved the searching. She turned back to the billionaire housewives. "Now listen up, because this is important. This is not Clearwell. I need you to understand that because I know it's what you're used to. The men here are dangerous, the most dangerous criminals in the country. They're barely civilized, and have no respect for the established order of things. There is a man here who crushed a cop's head with his bare hands. And none of them have been with a woman in years, apart from that crowd that just left. Do you understand what I'm saying here?" They gulped and nodded. Sasha felt a fluttering in her stomach. What kind of man could crush another's head with his bare hands? "Good. This is Akira Takashi, my captain of the guard. She will escort you through the prison, although you must do everything she says and may not go where she does not lead you. Is this agreeable?" Again they nodded. "Good. Now I'm a very busy woman, so if there's nothing else?" She turned and left the room. Akira was an extremely petite woman, only about 5' 3", with a lightly freckled perfect Asian face and c cup breasts that bulged under the chest pockets of her uniform, and looked huge on her small frame. "Ok, I'm afraid I'm going to have to search you." Her voice was very high and sweet. Silence greeted this proclamation. Eventually the throaty, condescending voice of Olivia Short spoke up. "Young lady, if you think I'm about to let a complete stranger put their hands on me you're sorely mistaken." Akira's face hardened. Olivia was a real bitch. "Ma'am, this is Blackdeep Prison and I am the captain of the guard. If you think you can just waltz in here and be exempt from the rules, then you are sorely mistaken. You will submit to a search, or you will not see your husband. The choice is yours." They stared at each other for a hot second, Olivia's gaze was smelting, but she was a little taken aback at the smaller women's sudden ferocity. Akira looked coolly back. She dealt with 300-pound murderous thugs everyday, she wasn't about to be intimidated by some rich bitch here to see her thieving husband. Eventually the older woman gave a sharp, disgusted exhale through her nose and began to unbutton her jacket. Jen and Sash, having stood silently watching the exchange, followed suit, undoing their wide belts. The bodies that were revealed were unbelievably good. Sasha was the slimmest of the three, although that wasn't saying much, as she still had big ripe breasts and a plump full ass, hugged under the sleeveless, turtlenecked Little Black Dress she wore, which stopped about six inches above her knees before being replaced by long pale legs, crisscrossed with the dark fishnets. With her crimson lips and sparse but bold mascara she looked like an extremely classy call girl. Maybe even just a little too classy for that. Jenelle was the tallest, and was built like a Barbie doll, with a prime rack, slender stomach, and a juicy bubble butt. She was wearing a slinky metallic silver dress that matched her dangling diamond earrings. It was skintight everywhere except for a drape between her tits that displayed a tantalizing but not inappropriate amount of cleavage, and the slightly frilled bottom of the skirt, just below her knees. It was a halter, and her toned upper back had two strings about as thick as fishing line crossing over it and under the dress, proof of exotic undergarments. Her skin was tanner then Sasha's. She had a diamond-studded ring on one of her pretty pink toes enclosed within silver and glass heels that had straps up her ankle like roman sandals. Olivia, having bared children (twins no less) was the most voluptuous, with a huge set of jugs and a big jiggly ass to match. Her waist was ticker then the other two but she had worked hard to recover from childbirth, and it was still quite svelte relative to her massively curvy build. She wore beige pumps, beige stockings and a tight beige skirt that hugged her form well, but was not nearly as flashy as the outfits on the younger women. She had round dark eyes and her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun. All three women had almost comically large diamond rings on their right ring fingers. One by one, and in awkward silence, they spread their arms and legs as Akira gave them a quick but extremely thorough pat down. To her surprise, Jenelle felt a distinct tingling in her stomach as she felt the other woman's small hands roam her body. Then, having determined that none of them had a shank up their ass, Akira gave them the signal that they were good to go, and they reached for their coats. "I would leave those if I were you, it's going to be much hotter when we get inside the cell block." They shrugged, and hung them up on some nearby hooks. Akira led them out of the room and through some passages until they came out into what looked like a guard station, with a security booth looking down on a much larger room. Akira was right; it was hotter already. They could hear a faint clamor. She stopped at the door out of the booth and turned around. "Alright are you ready? Just remember to keep walking." She motioned to the guard on duty and he unlocked the door with a harsh buzz. The door swung open and they walked out onto the catwalk overlooking the cellblock. Immediately they were hit by the heat. It was not the dry heat of direct sunlight, or the penetrating heaviness of a hot shower, but the thick, sticky miasma of body heat, so pungent they could taste it. The cellblock was perhaps five hundred feet long, two hundred wide, and a hundred tall, with catwalks crossing the width of it. They were on one about two thirds of the way up from the floor. All four sides of the room were completely lined with 8'x10' cells, unfurnished except for two slabs jutting from the wall that made up the bunk bed and a bucket. Currently, however, all the cells were unoccupied, and there were guards with sniper rifles standing at regular intervals on the catwalks. They looked down and saw why. There, in a seething mass of orange and black, were the prisoners. There were hundreds of them, some lounging and chatting idly, some lifting weights (monitored by a shotgun carrying guard of course), and a few running laps around the edge of the room. The smell they were creating was so intense the girls could distinctly taste it, and they wrinkled their noses as they made their way along. Olivia was stunned. Coming from such an exclusive and privileged background, she had only ever seen blacks from the back window of the Rolls, and never more then a few together. Plus, those had been just average joes off the street. She had never seen anything like this. These men were mean, even at a distance she could sense the arrogant alpha male vibe they put off. And there were so many. Each man was completely built; some were shirtless and had various tattoos inscribed over dark rippling muscle. Olivia felt the beginning tinglings of what felt like fight or flight running up her spine, and fingered nervously at her at her pearls. Jenelle was directly behind Akira and couldn't help but notice the tiny Asian's disproportionate ass, which actually rivaled many of those found on the black women earlier, straining at her uniform and rolling back and forth as she walked. Jenelle could feel her own ass, as well as her breasts, jiggling as her heels touched down, and knew that it must be the same for the women behind her. Especially Sasha, she thought, whom she knew for a fact was not wearing a bra. She pictured Akira's spectacular ass boosted by heels and found the thought strangely mesmerizing. Her thoughts were broken by Olivia calling from the back. "Captain Takashi? What's going on here, why aren't these men in their cells?" She sounded slightly alarmed "Don't worry Mrs. Short," Akira called back over the din, "this is just their recreation time. We let them out of their cages for a few hours a day to let them stretch their legs and socialize." "Isn't that dangerous?" "Not as dangerous as letting them get all pent up. Besides, they know if they try anything the guards will blow them away. It's happened before." "But letting them all get together like this, won't they...plot?" Olivia sounded like she was looking for an excuse to panic. Akira burst out laughing. "Plot? These guys? No way, anyone with the brains or organizational skills to 'plot' is tucked away in Blocks B or C. These guys are just thugs, no one down there has the capacity to make any kind of real trouble." She was wrong about that, as it would later turn out. Dead wrong. "Aww shit, look up there!" The call echoed up from the ground floor and the ladies faltered at they heard the clamor increase to a roar as every eye in the room swung around to settle on them. "Aw fuck yeah, snow bunnies!" "Dey must belong to dose little geek muthafuckas!" "I don't know what you goin to the visitation room for, you got all the lovin you need down here baby!" "Shit dose bitches are fine, specially that bitch at the back, I'd slide my snake all up in dem tits." Olivia panicked at this and tried to rush past the others, resulting in a chorus of deep laughter. "Shit Marv, you scarin her off!" "What's the matter baby? We just wanna play, no need to run" "Look at that classy looking bitch in the middle, I bet she gives some mean head." "Dibs on the Barbie up front, that body aint playin no games!" Jenelle looked out at the crowd, trying to find the one who had singled her out. He wasn't hard to find. "Yeah right over here baby, you know you want it," He said as he saw her look toward him. He was standing by the bench press, his shirt was off and the light shone off his sweaty body in exactly the same way it shone off the stone the place was carved from. He was covered in tattoos, and was grabbing his crotch obscenely. She squinted at him. It was hard to tell from this distance, but his voice had sounded strangely familiar... "Keep going!" The usually ice cool Olivia gave a terrified whisper as she pushed from the back. They continued along the catwalk as fast as Akira and their dignity would allow, being forced to endure the increasingly graphic proclamations detailing what would be done to them if given the chance. "Just look at dat fuckin milf! Yo take dat fur shit off, lets see what you workin wit!" "Bitch I know you want it, I can see those nips from here!" "...ram my shit up in you so deep you'll taste it!" "...drippin all down dose tits..." "...pussy like it was my last meal..." "...dat ASS" "...till there's spooge comin out yo fuckin ears!" "...never go back!" Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached the opposite guard booth and quickly piled in. Olivia was visibly shaking; she was damp with sweat and her panties were soaked. Even Jen and Sash, who had done their share of sleeping around, were shocked by the things they had heard, and were speechless. Sasha was acutely aware of her rock hard nipples pointing through the sweater material of her dress. All the women wished they hadn't dressed quite so provocatively for their husbands. 'Where's that rich bitch demeanor now', thought Akira. Out loud she gestured to an elevator and said, "If you're ready to continue, the visitation rooms are right this way" -- Jim headed for the elevator after getting the hos settled in, lost in thought. Suddenly the door dinged open and the object of his contemplation appeared. He quickly ducked into the stairwell before Jenelle spotted him. He knew he was about to have a minor breakdown and quickly hurried down the stairs, until he was on the lower maintenance levels near Block C, which he knew would be deserted. He quickly slumped against the nearest wall as the memories came flooding back. From the moment he had first laid eyes on Jenelle all the way through freshman year she had been his obsession, his ideal goddess. All the guys at school agreed that she was an 11, but Jim had been truly obsessed. Whenever he caught a glimpse of her in the hallways his heart would shoot into his throat, and he eventually learned her schedule and would often go out of his way to cross paths with her. Once he had even discreetly followed her home and had considered looking in a window, but quickly realized he didn't have the balls. He jerked off nightly to her yearbook photo until he discovered her myspace, which had been one of the best days of his life.