The Ultimate Sacrifice

Day Three

“Get a move on it cons,” Officer Geary yelled. “Get your lazy asses up!”

Michael looked at the cell bars realizing that neither one of them had bothered pulling the curtain back up the night before, and now the entire cellblock probably thought they had spent the entire night fucking. Michael could feel T-Bag breathing on the back of his neck and cringed in revulsion as a wet tongue made its way past his ear and towards his jaw. He could feel the con’s swollen erection pushed up against his ass and closed his eyes in dread; waiting for the attack to begin.

“Morning Pretty,” T-Bag lazily greeted the taller man. “Did you sleep well?”

Michael opened his eyes and stared at the cinderblock wall in front of him, “As well as could be expected.”

T-Bag stretched his arms over his head and arched his pelvis into Michael’s body. “I got to say that I had some very pleasant dreams about you.” His hand wandered down Scofield’s hip and squeezed, “You did some very nasty things to me in these dreams.”

“Really, like what?” Michael asked trying to ignore T’s wandering hand. “Did I cut off your balls and feed them to you?”

“Such a potty mouth on you boy,” T-Bag grumbled. “You really should try to control what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.” Teddy’s hand made its way to Michael’s crotch and squeezed gently, “And no, you didn’t hurt me in these dreams. You made me feel fantastic. The things you did with that tongue of yours and that ass was simply amazing.”

Michael reached down and grabbed T-Bag’s hand and pulled it away from his crotch, “Glad I could be of some service. Can we please get up now?”

“Bulls won’t let us stay in here too much longer but you can do something for me that won’t take very long,” T-Bag hinted.

Michael rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, “What do you want?”

“Jerk me off with those lovely hands of yours.”

Michael reluctantly turned over onto his other side facing Bagwell and his obvious erection, “The agreement was for last night, but it is morning now…so what are you going to give me if I give you a hand job?”

Teddy eyed the fish seductively. “My charming personality not enough for you?”

“Hardly,” Michael snorted.

“Way I see it, you’re in my bunk, naked I might add,” T-Bag leered as he pushed the blanket off of Michael’s body. “So, that pretty much guarantees that we’re not leaving this here bunk until you satisfy my needs.” T unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock, “Unless you rather I stick this somewhere else, I would put my hand on it and start stroking Pretty.”

Michael angrily grabbed T-Bag’s prick and began stroking his hand up and down with harsh movements, “You like it hard like this?”

T-Bag winced from the pain of Michael’s harsh hand on his sensitive column of flesh, but he could appreciate Scofield’s need to give him pain, “Just don’t scrape the skin off and it’ll be all good.”

Michael refused to look down at the cock in his hand and instead looked into the rapist’s face smiling when he saw the older man in apparent discomfort. “What’s wrong Teddy? Am I being too rough on you?”

Theodore opened his eyes and perversely smiled, “No, its perfect Pretty…can’t wait to reciprocate the favor.”

Michael’s hand softened a bit, “No need to return the favor.” Michael sped up his stroking but released the death grip he had on Bagwell’s cock. He stroked the hard shaft like he would his own determined to bring the older man to completion as soon as possible.

Bagwell watched Michael intently as the other man jerked him off, “That’s more like it Pretty. You got some magical hands there boy.” Teddy felt the pressure building in his testicles racing up his shaft; hours of hardness with no relief assured him of a quick release. “You going to make me shoot my cum on you Pretty…yeah, that’s it baby.”

Michael cringed as he felt the warm liquid squirting out of Bagwell’s cock onto his stomach and hand, “You like that pervert? You like shooting your load on me like that?”

T-Bag bit his lower lip as he watched his cum coating Michael’s ink-blotted stomach, “Fuck yeah I like that…so fucking hot.”

Michael waited until Bagwell was spent before removing his hand. His hand was covered in Bagwell’s seed and he wanted nothing more than to wipe it on the other man’s pants but didn’t think that rapist would appreciate it. “Can I please get up and clean myself off?”

T-Bag grabbed Michael’s wet hand, “Clean it up with your tongue.”

“Excuse me?” Michael asked appalled at the other man’s suggestion. “I don’t taste my own stuff why the hell would I want to taste yours?”

“Because I told you to,” Bagwell warned as he placed Michael’s hand at his own mouth, “Lick your fingers clean. It doesn’t taste so good when it cools off, so I would get started real soon.”

Scofield sighed in disgust but tentatively placed his tongue on his index finger and began lapping at the quickly cooling spunk. T-Bag watched in fascination as the younger man’s pink tongue licked at the creamy release, “That’s it boy put it in your mouth and suck on it…get those fingers all nice and clean.”

The bitter taste of Bagwell’s semen in his mouth almost made Michael gag but he refused to let the other man see his weakness. Instead he cleaned up every drop without complaint or hesitation just as Bagwell had commanded.

T-Bag pulled Michael’s hand away from his mouth and placed a long deep kiss onto Scofield’s pink wet lips plunging his tongue into the Michael’s heat. The taste of his own cum in Michael’s mouth fueled the kiss on. Bagwell climbed on top of Scofield’s pliant body and pushed the younger man’s thighs apart. He wanted nothing more than to sink his thick cock inside the boy’s body, and he began pumping his hips onto Michael’s naked flesh letting the other con know exactly what he wanted to do. “I want you so fucking badly,” T-Bag managed to say between kisses.

Michael wanted to push Bagwell away but he knew that P.I. was at sake, “You can’t.”

“I sure as hell can,” T snapped looking into Scofield’s face.

“I mean that the guards will be back at any moment,” Michael reasoned. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

Bagwell could read Scofield like a book, and he knew he was being played by the other con, but he pulled away from the fish anyway. “I guess you’ll want to negotiate for something else when I get ready to fuck you, won’t you?”

Michael watched wearily as the other man got up from the bunk, “Naturally.”

“Of course, you do realize that I could take your ass without permission or negotiation if I so desired,” Bagwell clarified as he pulled Michael’s naked body from the bunk.

“Of course you could, but we both know that you would prefer me coming to you willingly,” Michael explained walking over to the sink. He turned on the cold water and splashed some on his face, “Like you said last night, it’s hard to find sexual pleasure when the body underneath you is struggling constantly.”

T-Bag placed his hand on Michael’s firm ass cheek and squeezed it appreciatively, “Such a nice ass…I can’t wait to have you all spread open for me; begging me to give you my dick.”

“And that won’t happen if you don’t negotiate for it,” Michael reiterated.

Bagwell watched as the other con began getting dressed, “I got to say I didn’t expect this from you Pretty.”

Michael slipped on his boxers and pants, “Expect what?”

“You being a whore,” T-Bag wickedly smiled. “You’re willing to bend over, take it in the ass, and beg all prettily for it if I give you the right incentive.”

Inwardly Michael was disgusted with himself but outwardly he played it calm, “I’ll do what I have to do get what I need.”

T-Bag twisted his tongue inside his mouth staring at Scofield with undisguised yearning, “Even if that means being the cellblock’s harlot?”

Michael pulled on his long-sleeved shirt and nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation, “Not the cellblock’s just yours.”

“And Ripper’s,” Bagwell added.

Michael slipped on his blue over-shirt, “No, he’s not part of the deal.”

“And what deal would that be Pretty,” T-Bag asked in interest. “What do you want so bad that you would be willing to be my personal whore?”

“Sucre as my cellie,” Michael confidently replied. “I’d make it worth your effort.”

Both men sat on the lower bunk to pull on their boots, “You really think you’re that good, don’t you Scofield?”

Michael looked over at Bagwell, “No, but I know you want me. The question is…how much are you willing to pay for it?”

Teddy stood up and pulled at his thinning white t-shirt, “Way I see it, I’ve already paid quite a bit for you already Scofield, and as much as I would like to have you on your back with your legs spread begging for cock like a slut, I might just feel inclined to take what I think is owed me.” Bagwell pulled the sheet down from the bar, threw it on the bottom bunk angrily, and turned to look at Scofield, “No one plays me boy. You want to whore yourself out to someone else be my guest, but I will take what I want when I want it.”

Michael watched in trepidation as the rapist walked out of the cell leaving him alone to mull over the ominous threat. He ran his hands over his head feeling that his hands were shaking. Despite his best efforts, Michael was intimidated by the Alabamian, and he worried that Bagwell would keep him from getting Lincoln out. He had already accepted the idea of being a whore for T-Bag if that was what it took to get Lincoln out, but being a rape victim and still having Ripper as a cellie wasn’t an option that he would settle for; he would simply have to figure something out. He pulled the sleeve up on his t-shirt and looked at the tattoo wishing that he had written something in the design that would help him out of the situation, but there was nothing in the intricate escape plan that would help him to keep a rapist off his back and there sure as hell wasn’t anything in the tattoo that would help him to forget the sacrifices he was making for Lincoln’s benefit.

“You’re going to owe me so big for this Linc, “Michael mumbled to himself as he pulled down the shirt sleeve and headed out of the cell towards breakfast.


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

Dr. Sara Tancredi smiled softly as Michael Scofield walked into her examining room, “Good morning Mr. Scofield.”

Michael returned the smile confidently to the doctor but on the inside he was feeling rather fragile and paranoid about life in Fox River, “Morning doctor.”

Sara watched as the handsome convict sat on the gurney, “How have you’ve been doing? I hope things haven’t been too rough for you since your last visit.”

Michael looked at the woman and saw concern in her eyes, “Everything is fine Doctor. How about you?”

Sara knew the types of things that happened to men in prison, and she knew from the second she saw Michael that he would be popular among the other inmates, and her stomach clenched at the thought of the man in front of her being raped, beaten, and tormented by the other prisoners. “Michael, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course I am,” he lied.
Sara could sense that the inmate was uncomfortable with her line of questioning and decided to change the topic. “You went to Leola,” she commented as she plopped down into her rolling chair.
Michael grinned, “You’ve been checking up on me.”
Dr. Tancredi shrugged, “I like to get to know my patients. I went to North Western; graduated a year after you did.”
Michael smirked, “Maybe we met before. You know, drunk out at a bar somewhere.”
Dr. Tancredi shook her head, “I would have remembered that.”
“Is that a compliment?” Michael flirtatiously asked.
“No,” she absently remarked looking at the test results of Michael’s blood work, “Hmm.”
Michael’s brow rose in concern, “What?
“Your blood glucose is at fifty milligrams per deciliter. Your body’s reacting to the insulin as though you’re not a diabetic. Are you sure it’s Type 1 Diabetes you got?” she asked skeptically.
“Ever since I was a little kid,” Michael replied.
Dr. Tancredi took one more look at the test results twisting her lips in thought, “Alright. Not experiencing any tingling sensations, cold sweats?”
Michael shook his head in denial as the good doctor’s phone rang. He waited for Sara to answer the phone before walking over towards the barred window. As he looked outside into the Yard, he noticed that his right hand was shaking and wondered if it was more than fear of Bagwell that was causing his hands to shake earlier in the day.
Sara hung up the phone and looked over at the inmate who was standing by the window, “I’d like to run some tests the next time your in. The last thing I want is to be administering insulin to a man who doesn’t need it.”
Michael feigned a smile, “Yeah, sure.”
Dr. Tancredi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Scofield that met the eye but she pushed her instincts down and gave the convict the benefit of the doubt, “Okay.” She watched as Michael practically ran out of the room wondering why anyone would be so anxious to go out to the Yard.

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

Michael walked out into the Yard looking for the Purity members hoping that they wouldn’t notice him. He saw Maytag, T-Bag, and Ripper sitting on the bleachers and watched wearily as Bagwell whispered something into Ripper’s ear causing the other man to laugh boisterously. He just knew that T-Bag was telling Ripper every last detail of their time together, and he was sure that they were plotting their next move.
Michael pushed down his apprehension and continued to walk closer towards the center of the Yard towards Sucre and his Hispanic friends hoping that they wouldn’t give him any trouble.
“Sucre, can I talk to you for a moment?” Michael timidly asked.
Sucre frowned and looked the new fish up and down in disgust knowing that Bagwell had already gotten his claws into the man, “Back the fuck off man. I don’t want your boyfriend thinking that I’m hitting on you.”
Michael’s nostrils flared in anger and embarrassment as the inmates laughed at his expense, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Really,” Sucre asked in amusement. “Man, the whole damn cellblock knows what you two were doing last night.”
“It wasn’t like it was my choice,” Michael assured the Latino. “I need your help.”
“Look somewhere else fish,” Sucre responded. “I don’t want any trouble with the Purity…besides that, your faggot words messed up what I had with my girl.”
Michael was perplexed, “What words?”
“Passion,” Sucre sneered. “What were you thinking?”
“Hey. You went for it,” Michael defended.
Sucre looked to his friends and motioned for them to leave, “She probably thinks I went sissy up in here. You know, got more than one syllable, too much talking.” Sucre noticed that the fish was smiling despite his predicament, “That’s me from now on. One syllable Sucre. Yes, no, love, hate…love.”
“Give it time,” Michael amusingly suggested.
“Are you kidding me? I proposed to her,” Sucre barked. “That doesn’t take time; si or no, that’s one syllable man. She’s supposed to come around for a conjugal on Tuesday. She’s always calling me beforehand letting me know she’s coming. This time man,” Sucre nervously licked his lips, “I ain’t heard a peep. You spooked her.
Michael took a chance and placed a supportive hand on Sucre’s shoulder, “She’ll love it, I promise. Just give her a little time.”
Sucre shrugged Michael’s hand off his shoulder looking over at the bleachers where Bagwell was watching the interaction, “What do you want from me man?”
“I need to get my hands on some contraband and was wondering if you knew who I needed to talk to,” Michael softly replied.
“What kind of contraband?” Sucre asked in interest.
“Some medicine that I can’t get from the infirmary,” Michael explained looking over his shoulder at Bagwell who was now standing looking in his direction.
“You mean illegal drugs man?”
“No, nothing like that,” Michael honestly replied.
Anxious to get away from Bagwell’s intense stare, Sucre suggested that they move further into the Yard. “Don’t see how you’re coping with that freak on your back.”
Michael followed Sucre, “Like I said, I don’t have much of a choice at the moment.”
Sucre put his hands in his pocket and motioned over towards two black inmates, “C-Note will get you anything you want for one-hundred dollars, but I don’t know where you’re going to get that kind of cash around here.”
Michael had put aside some cash before his imprisonment and had instructed Veronica, his lawyer, to bring him cash with each visit. Prison regulations stated that visitors could not bring cash into the prison but lawyers on the other hand were allowed to bring just about anything they wanted to their prisoners besides weapons and drugs. “I got it taken care of.”
Sucre was impressed that the fish had money, “Okay, but I am staying as far away from you as possible once you hook up with C-Note, and don’t think you’re my new best friend fish because you’re nothing but trouble for me as long as you and Bagwell are so well acquainted.”
“Got it,” Michael replied watching as C-Note made a transaction with another black inmate and waited until the other inmate left before approaching C-Note. “Sucre tells me you’re the local pharmacy.”
C-Note looked behind Michael at Sucre, “What you need man?”
“Pugnac,” Michael simply responded.
“I only speak in English white boy,” C-Note replied nervously not wanting the others black inmates seeing him talking to a white boy who was associated with the Purity.
“It’s an insulin blocker,” Michael began. “It’s a standard over-the-counter variety. You can get it at any pharmacy.”
C-Note looked onto the Yard in boredom, “You can get it at medical then.”
“Only I can’t get it at medical,” Michael informed the other man.
C-Note’s interest was tweaked, “Why not?”
Michael mischievously smiled, “Because they’re already giving me insulin shots.”
C-Note laughed softly, “You’re one mixed up cracker you know that?”
Michael stared at the inmate, “Can you get it for me or not?”
“Only if you tell why it is you want to keep going back up to medical to get an insulin shot for which you don’t need,” C-note replied intrigued by the new fish.
Michael smirked, “I like the ambiance.” Michael was losing patience with the other con and reached into his pocket to retrieve the money.
“You one of those white racist,” C-Note asked.
“No,” Michael responded tired of the accusations.
“The sheet on Bagwell’s cell suggest otherwise,” C-Note commented.
“It’s not by my choice, “Michael assured the other man putting the money within the other man’s grasp. “Are we in business?”
Against his better judgment, C-Note wearily grinned, took the money, and walked off leaving Michael alone hoping that the C-Note could secure the Pugnac before his next visit to the infirmary.

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

Michael rested in his bunk with his back up against the wall and his feet sitting on the ground. He was looking at the P.I. card that a guard had recently delivered. He caressed the laminated card in his hands thinking of the things he had to do to get the card but he knew that it would be worth it in the long run.

“What you got there fish,” Ripper asked as he jumped down from the top bunk.

“P.I. card,” Michael informed the nosy con.

“Was it worth it?”

“Was what worth it?” Michael asked bored with the caveman and his attempts at conversation.

“Was it worth whoring yourself out for that card just so you can work with that greasy-ass Sicilian?”

“Only time will tell,” Michael admitted. “Did you have fun with Maytag last night?”

“Not really, all that kid could talk about was you and your boyfriend stealing ways,” Rip replied standing close to the bars. “The only thing I could do to shut him up was to choke him with my dick, and even then he managed to brag about how much better he was at sucking cock than you.”

“And you let him talk about me like that?”

Ripper was really starting to like the sarcasm Michael offered. It was refreshing to have someone stand up to him and not cower away in a corner. “I told him that you were damn good especially since you had never done it before, and that he would have to ask T-Bag about your cock sucking abilities as well.”

“I’m sure that went over just fine,” Michael tiredly replied.

“I would definitely keep my eyes out for him if I were you,” Ripper remarked. “Besides, I heard that you weren’t the one sucking cock last night, and that you really enjoyed yourself being at the center of Teddy’s attention.”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” Michael sardonically commented.

“Well, good thing T-Bag ain’t no gentleman then,” Ripper laughed. “He sure enough is telling all the details to anyone who will listen.”

“He seems the type to brag,” Michael responded. “Did you like what you heard?”

Ripper turned away from the bar and stood in front of Michael’s bunk, “You want me tell you what he said about you?”

Michael looked up at the Neanderthal, “Not really, I already know the details, thank you very much.”

Ripper kicked Michael’s feet apart, “He said you offered him your ass willingly just to get a new cellie…I got to say fish that my feelings were hurt when I heard that.” Ripper dropped down onto his knees placing his hands on Michael’s thighs, “And here I was thinking that we were getting along so well.”

Michael allowed the larger man to spread his thighs apart, “We could get along even better if you would let me transfer to another cell. I think that the guy in forty would fit perfectly with you.”

“You mean Hogan, Sucre’s cellie,” Ripper asked. “Why you want Sucre so bad? What’s he got that I don’t have?”

“A soul…compassion for other human beings,” Michael offered.

It took everything in Ripper not to hit the stuck-up little shit with his fist, but T-Bag had made it clear that there was to be no beatings just yet. “So, if I let you transfer into Sucre’s cell, what do I get in exchange?”

Michael looked down at Ripper’s hands on his thighs and smiled seductively, “Anything you want.”

“Oh really,” Rip asked wishing that the sheet was down so he could ravage the boy’s pouty mouth. “You’d let me fuck you everyday for as long as I was interested?”

Michael swallowed hard in nervousness, “I didn’t have everyday in mind when I offered. I was thinking more on the lines of a one-time favor.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that boy if you want my cooperation,” Ripper laughed. “You’re hot and all, and I want to tap that ass for sure, but even you ain’t worth risking T-Bag’s wrath for one fuck.”

“Fine,” Michael begrudgingly replied. “You can have me until you become bored of me, but I choose the time and place; not you.”

Ripper stared hard at the pretty con wondering what T-Bag would do to him if he let Michael transfer cells. It wasn’t like Michael would be safe with Sucre, and he was pretty sure that he could get Michael to include Teddy in the negotiations as well. “What if I wanted to bring a friend along?”

“No,” Michael adamantly refused. “Teddy has made it quite clear that he is not willing to negotiate with me.”

Ripper leaned closer into Michael’s space placing his mouth inches from the other man’s mouth, “And whose to say I need to negotiate with you? I can just take it when I want it too.”

“Not without T’s permission,” Michael reminded the other con. “You do this with me and you’re guaranteed a willing participant…”

“And that’s the problem with this whole thing fish,” Ripper interrupted. “You’re T’s property and touching you without his permission is a death sentence for me.” Ripper pulled himself to his feet and stepped back away from the bunk, “I’m afraid you’ll have to figure out another way to convince T to cooperate if you want out of this cell so badly.”

“P.I.,” Bellick yelled from the floor of the cellblock.

Michael watched as the cell opened up wondering how the hell he was going to convince T-Bag to let him transfer to another cell. He couldn’t start digging with Ripper in the cell because he couldn’t take a chance that a group of convicted rapists would force themselves out of Fox River with the help of Michael’s tattoo and his plan.

“That’s you little fishy,” Ripper sneered. “Have fun with Abruzzi and the rest of the grease monkeys.

Michael didn’t respond to Rip and instead stepped outside the cell and headed towards John Abruzzi, and if he was very lucky, Lincoln would be working Prison Industries as well and he could touch base with his brother. He just had to hope that Lincoln wouldn’t be able to see the shame and humiliation emanating off his body because he was sure Lincoln would want to confront the Purity; even if it meant that the whole prison found out that they were brothers.


Part VII coming soon.
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