The Ultimate Sacrifice

Day Two

“What do you need Bagwell?” Bellick asked from outside the cell.

“Well Boss, it’s seems that Mr. Scofield here has a request to ask of you,” T-Bag confidently replied.

“What is it fish? You want to call home and cry to your mommy about how hard prison life is?” Bellick cruelly asked knowing perfectly well that Scofield had no parents to call home to.

Michael looked at T-Bag and then Bellick trying to determine which was the lesser of two evils, “I want to request a cell transfer for just the night.”

Bellick arched his brow in mock surprise, “Really? What’s the matter, Ripper messing with your head?” Bellick couldn’t resist the urge to humiliate the new con, “Or maybe he’s messing around with some of them other softer parts on your body?”

Michael clinched his jaw in exasperation hating to speak the next sentence, “Actually, Ripper has requested the company of Maytag tonight, and Mr. Bagwell here has graciously offered to let me bunk with him for the night.”

“Is that a fact?” Bellick knowingly smiled. “Mr. Bagwell has graciously offered? Isn’t that nice of him?”

“I told him that it would be a sacrifice on my part, but that I was always willing to help out a fellow inmate,” T-Bag managed to say with a straight face.

“Well, you’re a real martyr Bagwell,” Bellick snickered. “Saint Theodore has a nice ring to it, don’t you think Scofield?” Brad wasn’t surprised when Scofield ignored his question obviously embarrassed over the entire situation, “Go get your shit Scofield, and I expect you to be back down here in five minutes.”

Michael reluctantly squeezed past the two men, “What will Maytag say?”

“Let me handle him,” T-Bag replied. “You go and get your stuff packed like the nice officer here said.”

Brad snickered as the new con walked off, “This is going to cost you extra T.” Bellick watched the new fish walking up the metal stairs toward the second-tier, “It didn’t take you long to get your clutches in him.”

T-Bag stealthily placed a nice piece of coinage in Bellick’s hand, “Oh, believe me Boss…I’m just getting started with this one…”

***********************************************

“See you tomorrow,” Ripper commented as Michael stepped out of the cell with a few necessities he would need while visiting T-Bag’s cell. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Michael ignored the Neanderthal and headed back down to the lower level trying to ignore the catcalls and knowing glances he received from the other inmates. It had been less than forty-eight hours and he was already being offered up to the resident rapist and pedophile. Michael hoped that Lincoln would be kept in the dark so that he would not learn about the actions his younger brother was taking in order to assure the success of the plan.

Maytag made his way up the metal stairs as Michael made his way down the stairs, “Fucking boyfriend stealing cunt!”

“Trust me, this is not my choice,” Michael defended.

“I’m going to gut you bitch!” Maytag growled as he stomped upstairs.

Michael shook his head in disbelief at the catty man who had suddenly became his newest enemy in Fox River, “I’ll be sure to keep away from your claws.”

Bellick stood at the bottom of the stairs in amusement, “That one’s a real hell cat. You better keep an eye out for him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Boss,” Michael replied stepping off the stairs.

Bellick grabbed Michael by the bicep as he stepped within his grasp, “You have fun tonight Scofield. I can’t wait to hear all the details tomorrow.”

“You enjoy this don’t you?” Michael began. “You’re a sadist who gets off on watching other people in pain.”

“I have to admit that its one of the perks of being an officer at this illustrious facility,” Brad smirked leading Scofield into T-Bag’s cell. “Here you go T…brought your bedmate for the night.”

“I do appreciate that Officer Bellick,” T-Bag smiled enthusiastically.

“You two play safe,” Bellick remarked as he turned to leave. “Lights out in fifteen minutes,” Bellick announced to the cellblock.

Michael bravely pushed past T-Bag and placed his few necessities on the small sink vanity, “Your girlfriend said he was going to gut me.”

“Like I said,” T-Bag began licking his lips admiring the view of Michael’s backside. “You can handle him. Just don’t hurt him too badly or I’ll have to hurt you back.”

“It can’t be any worse than what you’re already doing to me,” Michael mumbled under his breath.

T-Bag stepped over to the sink and pressed his body into Michael’s, “What was that Pretty?”

Michael allowed the rapist to press his body into his noting T-Bag’s obvious excitement pressing into his ass, “I said that I’ll keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want to give you an excuse to hurt me, now would I?”

Bagwell placed his nose near Scofield’s neck and inhaled sharply, “Your smart mouth alone is enough to make me want to hurt you.” T-Bag placed his hand on the back of Michael’s neck and caressed it softly, “You smell good boy; all sophisticated and innocent.”

Michael shuddered involuntarily as he felt Bagwell’s hand on his neck, “I’m not as innocent as I look.”

T-Bag squeezed Michael’s neck firmly, “Oh really now, just how tainted are you then?”

“You’d be surprised,” Michael commented.

T-Bag smiled sinuously knowing that the choir boy was lying through his perfect mouth, “Looking at your Daddy’s Playboy magazines don’t count Pretty and neither does masturbating in the privacy of your own shower.” T-Bag reached around, slid his hand in between the sink and Michael’s body, and caressed Scofield’s crotch, “You ever let a man touch you like this?”

Michael closed his eyes trying to block out the feeling of the slimy bastard’s hand groping the front of his pants. “That would depend on how you define let.”

T-Bag’s hand stilled, “You’ve had a man touch you against your will?”

“Well, obviously Ripper took what he wanted from me and you’re doing it now,” Michael snapped pushing off the sink and dislodging T’s hand.

Bagwell allowed his prey to move away from him for the time being, “I thought that you meant that you had a man take you by force before your infamous crime spree.”

“Robbing one bank hardly constitutes a crime spree,” Michael coldly replied.

“And that’s the real question,” T-Bag began stepping away from the sink. “Why would a boy like you need to rob a bank in the first place?”

Michael sat down on the bottom bunk not caring if it was meant to be his bed for the night or not, “I was bored…needed a challenge.”

T-Bag made his way over towards the cot, placed his hand on the top bunk, and bent down to place his face close to Scofield, “I’ve read your file. You’re a moneyed individual with an education so why rob that bank?”

Michael looked directly into the murderer’s eyes deciding that a change of subject would be for the best. “I thought you brought me here to fuck me not to talk my ears off.”

Bagwell winced slightly, “You don’t have to make it sound so crude Pretty. I just want the pleasure of your company for the night.” T-Bag placed his mouth at Michael’s ear, “Nothing wrong with a little foreplay is there?”

Michael could feel Bagwell’s tongue caressing his earlobe, and he shuddered in disgust as the offensive appendage poked inside his ear, “I would prefer that we just get this over with…the less we talk the better.”

T-Bag pulled away from the fish slightly disappointed, “We got all night Pretty. There’s nothing wrong with some friendly conversation. It’s not often that I get to talk to someone who is at my intellectual-level in this hellhole.”

Michael couldn’t help the snort that came out, “I’d hardly call us intellectual equals.”

T-Bag recognized the obvious insult and once again grabbed the insolent con by the back of the neck roughly, “I get it…you think some redneck from Alabama couldn’t possibly be smart, don’t you?” Bagwell pulled Michael off of the bunk by his neck and pressed him up against the cell bars face first, “You think all your fancy degrees make you better than me, don’t you?”

Michael’s face was painfully pressed into the bars, “It’s not the degrees that make me better than you Bagwell…it’s the moral aptitude you don’t seem to possess that taints your intelligence.”

Bagwell pulled Michael from the bar and threw him onto the floor, “And I bet you think using those elegant words confuses me but I got news for you boy…I know exactly what moral aptitude means, and I suppose you’re right about me lacking in that certain area, but it still don’t make you better than me.”

Michael scampered to his feet pulling himself off the cool concrete floor, “I never said I was better than you. I just said that we are not intellectual equals.”

Bagwell menacingly approached Scofield determined to break the little shit and teach him a lesson, “Which means you think that you’re smarter than me.”

“No, it just means that we think differently,” Michael explained. “I think about how things are put together and how they are supported by other objects while you think about how you can take things apart and take away their support.”

Bagwell snickered, “”You mean I like to break pretty things and make them beg for me to stop.”

“Exactly,” Michael nervously replied. “Your moral aptitude is less than most peoples’. You don’t use the same moral codes and rules that most of us do.”

“Yes, because all these hardened criminals in this here prison are such fine upstanding individuals,” T-Bag teasingly smiled. “They live by such high moral codes, and I suppose there’s nothing wrong with firing a gun in a crowded bank and scaring those poor folks half to death.”

“You know what I meant,” Michael responded through clenched teeth. He hated being reminded of his past crimes and sins.

T-Bag noticed that every step he took closer to Scofield caused the younger man to take a step backwards, “You afraid of me fish?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” Michael asked. “You are a known rapist and pedophile.”

“Yes, I suppose I am,” T-Bag smirked. “So why don’t you pull the sheet down and let’s get this over with as you so eloquently put it?”

Under any other circumstances, Michael would have tried to have stalled Bagwell with hours upon hours of conversation, but he feared that too much talking would reveal the real reason why he was in Fox River. Reluctantly, Michael stepped away from Bagwell and with a shaking hand he reached up above the cell bars and pulled the sheet down closing him off from the rest of general population.

T-Bag was somewhat surprised by Scofield’s accommodating attitude, “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

Michael turned to face Bagwell, “Just so we’re clear on this…I do whatever you ask of me tonight and I get to join P.I., remember?”

“Of course Pretty,” Bagwell grinned feeling his cock fully harden at the thought of a submissive Scofield. “Despite what you might have heard, I prefer it when my boys don’t fight me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Michael replied. “After all, rape is about power and control, not sex.”

“That’s right boy…you just keep believing that psychoanalysis bullshit,” Bagwell grinned. “I hate to break it to you, but for me, it’s a combination of both. It’s true that I enjoy taking someone by force, but I also love sinking my cock inside their hot bodies and filling them up with my cum,…and I can’t fully enjoy that sexual experience if they are constantly fighting against me for their freedom.”

“So, you enjoy intimidating and coercing your victims into submission?”

“That would be an accurate description Dr. Scofield,” T-Bag sarcastically replied. “And you are getting ready to get a first-hand experience of what it means to be one of my victims.” Bagwell placed his hands on Michael’s pale blue over-shirt and pushed it off of Michael’s shoulders, “You might even like the feeling of being under my spell.”

“I highly doubt that,” Michael retorted as he allowed the rapist to remove his shirt.

T-Bag placed his hands at the hem of Scofield’s long-sleeved shirt, “You never know…miracles happen everyday Pretty.” Bagwell slowly pulled the shirt over Michael’s torso, shoulders, and head admiring the view of the slim tattooed arms being revealed before his eyes, “Bellick told me that you had tattoos but this is unexpected.”

Michael stood still wearing only his white sleeveless t-shirt hoping that the tattoos were turning Bagwell off, “I’d understand if you wanted to call our deal off.”

T-Bag ran his hands slowly up and down Scofield’s arms, “Are you kidding me? This new development is quite compelling. They only make me want you more.”

“Great,” Michael mumbled to himself as Bagwell ran his hands underneath his shirt lifting the last layer of clothing from his torso.

T-Bag stood mesmerized by the intricate design of demons and angels and shook his head in bewilderment. “Why the hell would a structural engineer have a full upper body tattoo?”

“I told you that I’m not as innocent as I look,” Michael reminded the older inmate feeling his stomach turning somersaults as the convict ran his hands up and down his chest caressing his nipples in the process.

Bagwell had a sudden urge to see Scofield shooting his white creamy load onto his flat tattooed stomach wanting to see the white contrasting with the dark ink of the tattoo. “I want to see you cum on the tattoo.”

Michael’s eyes arched in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“I said that I want to see you underneath me while you are shooting your hot load onto your stomach,” T-Bag began placing his hands on the younger con’s slim hips. “I want to see the creamy white of your spunk contrasting with the ink of your tattoo.” Bagwell unzipped Michael’s pants and began pushing them down off the pretty con’s hips, “Then I’m going to lick that sweet cum off that tattoo and…”

“I get it,” Michael interrupted. “You don’t have to give me every detail of what you want to do to me.”

Bagwell pushed Scofield towards the bunk encouraging him to sit down on the bottom bunk. Michael watched in astonishment as the older man sunk to his knees, pulled off Michael’s shoes, socks, and pants and positioned himself between his bare thighs. “What the hell are you doing?”

T-Bag looked up at the naked man and stared into Scofield’s eyes filled with unadulterated lust, “I’m going to get you all nice and hard.”

Michael began shaking his head in disapproval, “No, this is not supposed to happen this way.”

“Don’t you want to feel pleasure Scofield?” Bagwell asked as his tongue darted out to taste Michael’s flesh.

Michael jumped in shock when he felt T-Bag’s tongue touch his traitorous cock, “This was not part of the deal.”

T-Bag caressed Michael’s scrotum trying to get a response from the boy, “I get anything I want, remember?”

“Yes, but I assumed that meant you would take pleasure from me. This is unacceptable,” Michael angrily replied. “I refuse to let you touch me like this.”

“Well, you know what they say about making assumptions,” T-Bag grinned as he licked at Michael’s hardening prick. “You taste fucking good.”

Michael pushed Bagwell’s head away from his cock, “The deal is off. I want to leave…now!”

It took everything in T-Bag not to laugh at the naive fish, “You can’t stop me Scofield. You’re my toy tonight.”

“Then play away, but not like this, please,” Michael pleaded attempting to close his legs. “Don’t make me feel pleasure when you’re raping me.”

“But that’s what makes me in control Scofield. Watching you come undone even though you’re being violated is the ultimate show of my power,” Bagwell explained grabbing Michael’s thighs and pushing them farther apart. “You just need to relax and let Teddy take care of you. After all, they don’t call me T-Bag for nothing.”

Michael had prepared himself for a violent assault, a forced blow job, and possibly a rough fuck, but nothing could have prepared him for the humiliation he felt as the rapist began licking and sucking on his testicles. Michael’s mind screamed no but his cock screamed for more. “Please stop.”

Bagwell placed his hands on Michael’s arms and held them down onto the cot, “Just relax Pretty. Lay back and enjoy my oral expertise.”

“No,” Michael begged from above refusing to follow Bagwell’s instructions.

Without warning, T-Bag hoisted himself on top of Michael forcing the younger con onto his back, “Lay the fuck down and don’t sit up until I tell you to.” T licked sinfully at Michael’s mouth, “This is what I want and if you want to join P.I. then I suggest you do as I tell you to.”

Bagwell slowly lowered himself back down Michael’s lean soft body licking and kissing the tattoo in admiration, “You are hands down the prettiest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” He continued to hold Scofield’s arms at his side as he pressed his nose into Scofield’s crotch breathing in the musky masculine smell that always drove him insane in pleasure. “You smell the best too.”

Michael shook in revulsion as the older man expertly took his long lean cock into his mouth and began sucking and licking like he was fucking starving. He stared up at the bunk above and stared at the grate that held the other cot in place. Perhaps, if he let his mind wonder and concentrate on the design of the grate rather than the mouth wrapped around his throbbing prick he would be able to pull through the ordeal with minimum repercussions. He began counting the number of times the grate crisscrossed, estimated the thickness of the thin metal rods that held the cot in place, and wondered how long it would take to unravel the metal so that he could stick a piece into Bagwell’s eye.

T-Bag noticed the younger man focusing on the overhead cot, pulled off the boy’s withering dick, and frowned. “You need to stop that and look at me Pretty. I want you to concentrate on my mouth not some stupid piece of metal. You understand?”

Michael lifted his head and looked at the rapist, “You said that I had to let you do what you wanted. You never said anything about active participation.”

“You’re really starting to piss me off Scofield,” Bagwell warned. “Do you really want me to pass you off to Ripper and the other members of the family? Just think…it would be like Christmas in April for them.”

Visions of being gang-raped in the prison showers entered Michael’s mind instead of visions of sugar-plums and Santa Claus, and he definitely had no interest in spending any prolonged time in the infirmary healing from the assault. “You’re a bastard Bagwell.”

“And you’re my bitch Scofield,” T-Bag teased taking Michael’s cock back into his hand and stroking it firmly. “If you play nice this won’t hurt a bit. Fight me, and you’ll experience pain unlike any you’ve ever encountered before.”

“Fine,” Michael reluctantly agreed. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched as the other con took his dick back into his mouth. Michael had not been touched by another person in over a year; too busy planning his brother’s escape to take comfort from another, afraid that they would discover the truth. Bagwell’s wet hot mouth felt fantastic but he refused to let even a hint of a moan or a plea escape from his mouth.

Bagwell sucked on Scofield’s cock looking up as the boy struggled not to show his apparent pleasure. He began humming lightly causing vibrations to travel throughout Michael’s prick and watched in fascination as the boy bit and chewed on his lips trying to keep his pleasure in-check but only managed to make his full pink lips even more inviting. T-Bag took turns licking and sucking on Michael’s shiny wet pole and his tight inviting testicles enjoying each and every pant of ecstasy that inadvertently slipped past Michael’s swollen lips.

Michael was shamefully already close to exploding in pleasure and he felt nothing but disgust with himself for being so weak. Bagwell’s expert tongue and mouth were doing magical things to his cock like no mouth before. It was true that Michael had very few oral experiences in the past; he himself to conscientious on how he would smell or taste to someone’s mouth. Hygiene had always been one of those things that Michael’s always active mind focused on and the idea of another person wanting to taste him in such an intimate manner dumbfounded him.

Bagwell ran his scorching wet tongue underneath Michael’s scrotum and teased at the younger con’s perineum “You’re going to love this Pretty.” Bagwell lifted Michael’s thighs and pushed them towards the younger man’s chest, “I’m going to have you shooting your sweet load in no time.”

Michael stared in disbelief as the man began rubbing his tongue and his goatee up against the soft flesh of Michael’s thighs and ass cheeks, “Please don’t do that.”

T-Bag gently gnawed on Scofield’s perky ass, “I want this Pretty so I get it, understand?”

“But it’s so unhygienic,” Michael unthinkingly rationalized. “I’m not even that clean.”

“Don’t you worry none boy. I like your ass just the way it is,” Bagwell reassured the terrified man. He ran his tongue up and down the skin around Michael’s pink hole enjoying the trembles he felt emanating from the pretty con. “You getting yourself all worked up and I haven’t even started.”

Michael wanted to scream for the other man to stop but his back arched up in an impossible angle as Bagwell touched his puckered entry for the first time with his tongue. “Oh…umm, stop it, please.”

Bagwell ignored Scofield and instead used both his hands to spread Michael further apart. His tongue lightly flickered over the musky tasting morsel of flesh, and he felt his own cock swell in anticipation of impaling Scofield on his hard rod of flesh. “You like that don’t you boy?”

“No,” Michael breathlessly lied to himself.

Bagwell smiled at Scofield’s obvious fib, “This quivering little hole says otherwise.” T-Bag ran a finger over the before mentioned hole and licked his lips when he saw the hole quenching open and closed begging for more contact. “I think your hole has a mind of its own Pretty. I think that it wants me to lick it and get it all wet.”

Michael clenched the sheets into his fist, laid back down onto the cot, and began shaking his head in denial. He desperately tried to ignore Bagwell’s tongue inside his body and the other man’s strong insistent hand stroking his aching cock into completion. “You’re a fucking bastard Bagwell,” His back arched off the cot as he exploded in orgasm feeling Bagwell’s tongue continuing to devour him, and Michael whimpered as he felt his dick releasing thick ropes of semen onto his stomach.

“Like I said,” T-Bag began lifting himself closer to Michael’s cum-covered belly. “I’m a bastard and you’re my bitch to use and to please if I so desire.” T-Bag eagerly licked at the cooling spunk that Michael had deposited onto his own stomach enthralled by the tattoo and the white liquid that coated it, “So fucking gorgeous…your tattoo, your cum,…your face.”

Michael wanted to cry, to break down in shame, but he wouldn’t give the rapist any more power, “You going to fuck me now?”

T-Bag finished lapping at the last drops of semen and ran his index finger around Michael’s wet hole, “That would be sweet, but I want to take this slowly.”

“What?” Michael asked wearily. “Is this more emotional manipulation?”

“You could say that Pretty,” T-Bag grinned as he pulled himself off the naked man below him. “You just get some rest for the time being.”

Michael watched in bewilderment as the other man stood up, “I can see that you’re wanting more.” Michael looked directly at the hardness in Bagwell’s pants, “Why not just take what you so obviously want?”

“If I didn’t know better Scofield I’d say you want me to fuck you,” Bagwell countered.

“Of course I don’t, but I would rather get it over with now than to wait in dread for the rest of the night,” Michael offered making a move to stand.

T-Bag blocked Michael’s movement with his arm. “Where you going Pretty?”

“To wash up,” Michael snapped.

“I don’t think so,” T-Bag grinned. “I want you to smell your own weakness on you for the rest of the night and think about how quickly you got off on my tongue.”

“This is all part of your power trip right? You want me to beg for it, don’t you?” Michael asked in disgust.

“Something like that…you’ll find out soon enough,” Bagwell replied. “Now get your pretty ass in that bunk and make room for me.”

Michael stared daggers of hatred at the other con but got into the cot turning on his side facing the wall. He could feel the heat of Bagwell’s clothes on his naked flesh and shivered as he felt the other man’s hardness resting on is thigh. He knew that this was all an attempt on Bagwell’s part to gain power and control in their so-called relationship, but Michael knew a trick or two himself, and he knew that he might be able to get a fair trade for his submission in the near future; perhaps a new cellmate even.


Part VI coming soon.
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