Part 1: Entering the Criminal Justice System

The gavel came down hard; the cracking sound was so loud that it made me jump. But I was in a sort of haze, I didn’t really understand what was going on. I looked over at my public defender, his lips were pursed and he was quietly collecting his papers on his desk.

“What does that mean?” I asked and he looked over at me but didn’t speak, “I don’t understand, what did the judge decide?” My attorney sighed and put his hand on my shoulder.

“He sentenced you to 15 years without the possibility of parole,” he said glumly and the commenced collecting his papers again, “I am really sorry Odessa.”

“But I confessed,” I said, “You said that would get me leniency.”

“You could have gotten twice that,” he said and finished packing up. He lifted his brief case and slung his jacket over it. He looked down at me, “You should be happy you will get out in your mid-thirties, still young enough to have a life.” And then he walked down the center of the courtroom and out of my life forever. It was completely alone now, just me and 15 years of incarceration at a California State Correctional Facility.

And alright, I deserved to go to prison. That’s why I confessed, that’s why I threw myself on the mercy of the court. But I didn’t deserve this. I mean, none of this so-called hearing passed anything approached the sniff test. I was totally railroaded here.

Ok, let me step back a second and explain. My name is Odessa Ko, you might have heard about me. I had a hit song (“Love Me Now, Not Forever”) that briefly went into the charts (and was a minor viral hit on YouTube). That was about ten months before my arrest, right around my 18th Birthday. See, I’ve wanted to be a singer since I was little, and I was going after that dream tenaciously. When the song started to get some radio play, it was like a dream come true. I even got to buy my own song on iTunes! The critics didn’t really like my song. They said I was trying to get famous for being a sexy Asian girl with less than stellar talent. But I wrote all my own music, I was trying to be legit. And what Asian girl doesn’t want to be a sexy Asian girl? I didn’t think that was much of a put down.

Anyway, even if you never heard of me for my singing career, you probably heard about me on all those awful cable news shows. Yes, I am the “T-Girl Terror” or the “Shamed Shemale” that Nancy Grace and all those other assholes followed around for six months. I don’t deny I broke the law, but I am not the monster they made me out to be. See, I have always known I was a girl, always. It didn’t matter that I’d been born with a penis. My adoptive parents (I was born in Korea, but I was half Japanese, so I was not wanted), were very supportive of me and they paid for hormones and the surgery and stuff. They died in a car accident when I was 17, and I promised that I would make them proud of me. And at 18, when my song went into the charts, I looked great and felt better. I mean, I was a sexy Asian girl, you’d never know I had a cock. I mean I am only 5’1 and no more than 95lbs. I have long, straight black hair, soft Korean features and dark brown eyes. My body is girly (not quite womanly, I guess) with small 32-B breasts, a round bottom, and a very narrow waist. You’d never guess I have a cock (I never considered getting rid of it, I kind of liked it for some reason, just the rest of me was supposed to be girly).

All that was fine. I just wanted to pass as a girl and sing songs and be famous. Guys would claim to have sex with me (because everyone always claims to have banged the hot chick) and I would lie and say they did and everyone would just think I was a normal girl. Except, there was this one reporter. I guess he was kind of obsessed with me, and he started to research me. Somehow, he figured out that I’d been born a boy and was brought over from Korea as a boy. So one day he came to my house, he told me what he’d found out and said he was going to publish the story the next day, he just wanted my reaction. And he fucking got it.

I can’t really tell you what I was feeling at that time. It was like, you know, he’d torn into my life and was going to blow it up. For what? I wasn’t famous really. It wasn’t really pertinent to whether I could sing. It was just going to make people think I was some sort of freak. So I kind of snapped. I was living in my parent’s old house still, my dad had played for a company softball team, and his bat was next to the door. I grabbed it and just sort of went nuts. I hit the reporter in the face, and kept hitting him until I couldn’t lift my arms anymore. But I need to remind you, I am a little girl, 5’1 and 95lbs. This guy was 6’3 240. I mean, a pretty big dude. I couldn’t really hurt him. I broke his nose and he was pretty bloodied. But when the police came later, they said I was charged with attempted murder! I swear to God, I did not intend to kill that guy, just to kick his ass. He was trying to kill my career and reputation. And he is fine! His nose is healed by now! I think it was because, by that time, everyone knew I was transgender. I was a pariah, and I had to be punished. Not for hurting some reporter, but for giving boys a boner even though I had a dick. That was what made me sensational, and it’s why I got 15 years in prison without the possibility of parole.

* * * * *

“Welcome to San Sebastian State Correctional Facility,” the warden said after I’d been taken off the bus. It had been a very long ride from the county jail in L.A. to this prison in the desert. It was miserably hot outside, but it felt like the air conditioning worked fine in the warden’s office. I was the only new inmate that day, so she was greeting me solo. I was wearing my county lock-up uniform and sitting at a chair. My feet and ankles were shackled. A blonde, female guard was standing at the door. I felt terrified. I was about to be dropped into prison. And I had a dick. So I’d be in men’s prison. I was about to get raped. Repeatedly. And here I was, getting a calm welcome from the warden like I was applying for a job.

I was squirming and the warden was just rambling on about the rules. About when I could exercise, about what I could wear, about when I’d be out of my cell, about when I’d eat, sleep, and everything else. There were so many rules that I couldn’t bear it anymore. I just zoned out. But then she asked me a question that brought me back to the world.

“Do you know anything about San Sebastian?” she asked. I looked up at her though my hair and just shook my head.

“Few have,” she said, “Well I want you to know it is a relatively new facility. And the first of its kind. You see, California incarcerates more people than just about any other political entity on earth. We have 164,490 prisoners here in the Golden State. Now, about 0.3% of the U.S. population is transgender. That means that in a population of 164,490, there are going to be about 493 transgender people. Now, for a long time, the state of California would simply put women like you in jail with men, and put female-to-male transgender people in the female prisons. This was done for a lot of reasons, but the point is that now; the population is big enough for it to make sense to make an all-transgender prison. And that is what San Sebastian is.”

I looked around, the place looked very new. Suddenly, I realized what she was saying. I wasn’t going to be thrown into prison with a bunch of brutal men that hadn’t seen a woman in years; I was going to be with my people. Sure, the kinds of people I’d always pretended not to be, out transgender girls, but still it was better than nothing. “you mean…” I began.

“Yes. The prison is broken into two spheres; you will be in the MTF wing with around 350 other girls like you. Then FTM wing has around 150 inmates, but you will not be permitted there. All of our guards are female, to decrease the chances of confrontation. Do you have any questions?” She asked. And I wanted to hug that ugly old bitch! I mean, I was still in prison, but I wasn’t going to be killed my first night. I knew some other t-girls, I could live with them.

“No, I am just…” I said, but I couldn’t finish.

“Relieved?” The Warden asked and I nodded, “Good. You are here to pay your debt to society, this will not be easy. But I never subscribed to the belief that violence or rape was part of your sentence.”

“I understand,” I said, and boy did I understand.

“Bethany?” The warden said, looking behind me to the guard standing by the door. The Guard stepped forward, “Please take Ms. Ko to the showers, get her cleaned and then find her clothes, and taken her to her cell.” The Warden then looked down at her papers and started to write. It was clear she was done with me. I felt so good; I stood up quickly, looked at the guard, and smiled. She smiled back at me.

She was a pretty woman in her early 40s. She was much taller than me, around 5’9 and very slim. She had large breasts and a big butt, and a youthful face. She kind of looked like the woman who would be your best friend’s hot mom when you were growing up. Like you were surprised that someone could look that sexy while being a mom. Well it was twice as weird with a prison guard.

“Let’s go to the shower,” Bethany said and I nodded. She pointed to the door and followed me out as I left. I followed the various signs until I reached a shower room. It was just sort of a big room with a bunch of shower heads. It kind of freaked me out because it looked like the shower rooms in like a Holocaust movie. But I walked in anyway. Bethany the guard walked in after me.

“Okay honey,” she said sweetly, “take off your clothes.” Now I felt awkward. Like my entire life was based on, you know, trying to keep people from seeing me naked. My parents had both seen me naked, but I didn’t let people see me naked. But, when you’re in prison, they don’t so much ask you things as tell you things. So I unzipped my baggy county lock-up jumpsuit and threw it off. I kicked off my shoes as well, and I was in my bra and panties in the shower room, the guard with her arms crossed watching me. I noticed a little glint in her eye at that moment, like she might be enjoying this. But I was too scared to think about it. A lifetime of covering my body was about to end now. Someone was going to see me naked.

“Come on, we ain’t got all day,” the Guard said disinterestedly. So I reached behind myself and unhooked my bra, letting it slide off my arms. Like I said, my breasts are small but they are perky and have that nice teardrop shape I like. My skin is sort of a light color but my areolas are dark and about the size of nickels. My nipples are sort of long, but not bizarrely. I crossed my arm across my tits for a second, and then realized that I was being absurd and reached down to my panties. This is where the real scare was. Someone was going to see my dick.

I shimmied out of my panties and looked down. There it was, the little lump of flesh that caused all my problems. Given my small stature, the hormones I took for most of my life, and my Asian ancestry I have like zero body hair, so it looked even more stark there. It isn’t really big or small, kind of small-ish at like 5 inches. My balls are kind of big (I guess it would have to take big balls to think I could get away with pretending I was a girl forever…sorry, bad joke). I looked up. The guard was staring at my cock. I put my hands over it and turned around and faced the shower head.

I waited a second and then cold water rained down on me. It hit my head like a shock, I even screamed out. Hey, remember when I said what my nipples look like? Did I mention that ultra cold water makes them razor blades? Remember when I said my dick was smallish and my balls are big? When 45 degree water cascades on my package it all shrivels up into something even less impressive.

Finally, after gasping a few times, I managed to grab some soap and quickly wash my body and hair (no shampoo, it seemed). The worst part was sticking myself back under the water to rinse off the suds. But, finally, I was completely clean and the water shut off. Then I was just standing and shivering in the shower, my arms wrapped around my chest and my balls in my throat.

I was waiting for Bethany the guard to hand me a towel or something. But then, instead, I felt her hand on my shoulder. Then a shove. I started to fall forward, so I put my hands out, catching myself on the wall. I was sort of leaned over now, my butt sticking out. And her hand was on my shoulder. For a second I was totally confused, was she getting me in a good position to dry off or something? Then she leaned over and breathed into my ear.

“I don’t give a shit what the warden says,” she said, “You animals are absolute degenerates and I make it my personal quest to make sure you know you’re in prison.” I turned back to look at her, but she shoved my head forward with her hand. I didn’t move, I just stared at the wall. My heart was beating a mile a minute.

“What are you doing,” I managed to whisper and she laughed. Her voice echoed around the empty shower and I never felt so alone in my life.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said, and I heard her slide her Billy club out of its holster. She rubbed the hard wooden object against my back, then let it slide down my leg. She pried my legs a part a little with the club, and then tapped my balls with it. It wasn’t a very hard tap, but it hurt like hell. My stomach ached and I wanted to throw up.

“Fuck,” I groaned, on hand moving down to gently massage my balls. She wracked my hand and I moved it away.

“You little fags hate your cocks, but you always take such good care of them,” she said, “Okay, you don’t want to play with your dick? You want to pretend you’re a girl? Well girl’s get fucked, that’s what we do. I am going to show you how a girl takes a cock.” It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what she was suggesting.

She slid her baton up my balls and planted it between my ass cheeks. She put just a little bit of pressure at first, spreading my cheeks and rubbing against my asshole. I was still wet from the shower and it slid there easily. But it felt huge, like it had a diameter of about two and a half inches. It was going to tear me apart.

“Tell me you want my cock,” she said and I was crying now. But it was so strange, I still, to this day, don’t really remember this like it happened. It is sort of an out-of-body thing, where I see this stuff happening to me outside my body. And the next thing I see is her slap me in the face about as hard as she can, “say it!”

“I want your cock,” I said, the pain hot on my face, the raise red area burning harder for my tears. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of in prison, but it was coming from such an unexpected source.

“I knew you were a little slut the first time I laid eyes on you. I saw you on TV, you are disgusting,” she said, and for some reason it hurt almost as much as her slap. But not as much as what happened next. She leaned in and started to push that big baton into my ass.

If you hadn’t gathered already, I was a virgin at this point. No one had ever put anything into my ass. It wasn’t even a part of my masturbation ritual. It was totally new and totally horrible. I remember screaming, until she hit me. The pain was so blinding. The cock slid, inch by inch into my asshole. It felt like it was completely filling me up, like it was going to come out of my mouth. After a few inches, I was actively thrusting into it, just trying to get it all in my body so it would stop.

And the guard was relentless, she just kept pushing the baton into me harder and harder. I was moaning lowly and she kept telling me to be quiet. My cock got hard. I can’t explain that, it was so strange, but it was involuntary. And then, something even stranger happened. I mean, it isn’t strange, it is mechanical, but it felt strange. She must’ve hit my prostate in just the right way. I didn’t know that’s what she did, I learned that later. But suddenly, mixed with all this humiliation and pain was the most powerful orgasm I’d ever felt in my life.

It built from inside my asshole, it felt like the most unholy pressure, all over my body. Then, it just sort of broke; it broke so hard that I thought I’d died to something. And when the tension released, the pleasure poured out of me. And so did the cum. Big, thick strands of cum shot out of my dick, spraying the wall in front of me. The whole time the guard kept plugging away at my asshole, she was even reaching around and grabbing my nipples now. But for a few seconds of transcendent bliss, all I could feel was the orgasm. And that was enough. Finally, the orgasm subsided and she appeared to get bored. She cruelly yanked the baton out of my ass.

“Clean this off,” she said and she shoved the baton into my throat. I didn’t really have time to react, it pushed through my teeth (not knocking any out, but hurting nonetheless) and against my tongue. It was covered in my ass, but I licked it off, hoping I could get it her stop.

“There,” I said in a shaky voice. My knees felt weak.

“What’s this?” she said, pointing to the cum on the wall, “you’ve made a mess all over my shower. Clean it up!” And as she finished she wracked the back of my knees with the baton and I feel into a kneeling position, like I was about to pray. There looked to be about two or three ounces of sperm sliming down the wall. I looked at it for a second, having never tasted the stuff. I knew what she wanted from me. I was powerless to resist.

I leaned forward and opened my mouth. I wondered for a moment about how dirty the wall was, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I sniffed the cum, but I couldn’t really smell anything. Then I stuck out my tongue and pressed it flat against the wall. The taste was salty and slimy and…pleasant. I sucked the sperm into my mouth and let it roll around on my teeth and tongue. The flavor was strong, but not bad. It was kind of sexy. I knew why people gave blowjobs. I leaned back in and licked up more of the cum, savoring its taste. By the time I lapped the rest of it up, I loved it. I wouldn’t waste another drop of it in a tissue when I masturbated, I wanted the cum. My tormentor must’ve sensed I wasn’t averse to eating sperm. She yanked me to my feet.

“You’re disgusting,” she said. Then she walked away and turned the shower back on, “clean up again.” She said. I was being punished for liking parts of my punishment. The water was just as cold and terrible as the last time. I was shivering, and now my asshole hurt. But at least I hadn’t given her the satisfaction of hating every second of it. She’d made me harder somehow, more ready for prison. As the water shut off again, I heard the door to the shower room open.

“Bethany, you finished with this chick? I need this room,” a voice said, I looked back and saw another guard. Bethany rolled her eyes, but she grabbed a towel and threw it at me.

“Hurry up, we’re done here,” she said and I wanted to run over to the other guard and give her a big cummy kiss. But I didn’t. I just wiped myself down and then walked over to Bethany. She handed me a pair of blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt. There was a pair of white panties and a pink bra as well. A uniform I guess. I got dressed quickly and we went outside. The other guard went into the shower room and Bethany led me away.

“You are lucky,” she said, “that was about to get a lot worse.” I felt my blood run cold. I didn’t want to think about the inventive torments this person could invent for me. But then we were just walking, making our way through the prison. Guards were everywhere, but there weren’t any prisoners, that I could see.

Then I could hear noise. A lot of noise. It was just talking and stuff, but it sounded terrifying. I realized that it was lunch. There was a large group in the lunchroom, talking and I was about to be thrown into the middle of it. It was like the first day of junior high all over again. I was in a narrow hallway, and I was walking towards the noise. Bethany kept pushing me further. Finally, we passed a door on our left; I looked inside, and saw the lunch room. Bethany handed me a folder, pushed me into the lunchroom and turned away. I was alone.

Bizarrely, I wanted Bethany back. She was horrible, but at least she was familiar. I’d seen her face before. I stepped a half step into the lunch room and looked around. There were like a hundred girls sitting at a handful of tables, eating and talking. I’d never seen so many t-girls in one place. They ran the gamut from gorgeous girls who could pass as super models, to girls who were barely more than cross dressers. But I was surprised that most just looked like girls, like me. You’d never think we were t-girls. And there bunches of them.

A couple of girls turned and looked at me, but most didn’t seem to take any notice. There was still a line for food, so I fell in. The girl in front of me looked back at me, but didn’t seem to care, then looked forward. I waited for a long while, the line moved little by little. Finally, I got to the food. The people scooping the food out of the trays were other prisoners with glazed looks on their face. They scooped this horrible looking sludge onto my plate. I walked to the end of the line, collecting red sludge and blue sludge and green sludge. Then I moved out of the line.

I looked around the tables. There were empty seats in places, but they were all scattered about at largely occupied tables. I was still woozy from my experience in the showers. My elation in the warden’s room had long since passed. I was now really aware of the danger around me and I totally couldn’t just sit down next to anyone. They might not have been big strong men, but they could still be threats.

Finally, I gave up on finding a seat. I lurched over to the side of the room and sat down on the floor. I tried to shovel some of the garbage into my mouth, but I couldn’t. The food was too disgusting and I was too shocked by my experiences in the day. So I just sat there. Finally, someone announced that lunch was over. Everyone started filing out of the lunch room, talking.

I hid myself in the corner. Waiting. I didn’t know where I was supposed to go. Then I remembered the folder. I opened it up and it said my cell number, my cell block (it was B) and had a map that showed me where to walk from the lunch room. There wasn’t anything else in it. I waited until everyone else was gone. Then I stood up and threw away my lunch.

“Hey you,” a voice said near the door, I saw a guard. Not Bethany, a different guard, “You need to leave now. I know you are new so I won’t report you, but move your ass.” She said and I ran out of the cafeteria. I was back in the hallway that Bethany had taken me down. I looked down at my map and tried to figure out where I was supposed to go. Most of the people had filtered out of the hallways and I was sort of all alone.

Finally, I got my bearings and headed in the right direction. I looked around; the hallways were wide and antiseptic. The feet in my white prison shoes clacked on the new floor. There were some locked doors in the hallway, but they didn’t have windows and didn’t look like cells. Finally, I made a left turn and walked into a large, octagonal room. It was three stories tall. Around the outside of the room, on every floor, were cell doors that were opened. On the first floor, in the middle of the room, were a bunch of tables and stuff. I walked into the room, and looked up to see a large glass ceiling. It was almost a pleasant room. There was a television in one corner and chairs everywhere.

Girls were milling about and everything. Some were sitting at the tables and talking, others were filtering up stairs to their bunks. I saw that all the bunks on the first floor were numbers that started with 1. I had cell 208 so I figured I was on the second floor. I moved around the edge of the room, trying to avoid eye contact and everything. No one seemed to notice me. There were like 75 girls in my cell-block, so there was a lot of action. There were guards standing around, but they appeared to be pretty relaxed. I made my way up the stairs and saw that room 200 was in front of me. I looked into the cell. There was a bunk bed and a toilet and nothing else. I mean, there were like personal items, but that was all the furniture. I looked to the left and saw room 223 so I started to walk to the right. Finally, I was standing outside of cell 208. Home.

And I looked into the room and saw the bunk bed up against the back wall, so that it opened facing me. But it wasn’t empty. There was a naked girl on the lower bunk. She was gorgeous. About 5’7 and around 135lbs. She had very long blonde hair and blue eyes. Her skin was very white, like a Disney princess or something. Her face was a princess’ face too long eye lashes, big almond shaped eyes, a small nose, thick pink lips, and even perfect features. Her breasts were big, like 36-D. Her stomach was flat, her legs muscular. I could see she had a toned butt. But what was most shocking was that she was sort of lying on her side with her legs spread. And her cock was big. It must’ve been around seven and a half inches long. She was clean shaven, I could see.

But my vision was sort of blocked. Because, on her knees, in front of the blonde, was another girl. She was fully clothed so I couldn’t make out her features. She was sort of plain, with short brown hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were closed. And she was blocking my view because she was sucking the blonde’s dick!

The brunette sort of flicked her hair out of her face and I could see the tip of the blonde’s cock in the girl’s mouth. Just the mushroom tip of the blonde’s flawless cock was in the brunette’s mouth and the brunette was swirling her tongue around underneath. At the same time, the brunette’s hand was cupping the blonde’s balls. She was squeezing them gently, all the while her tongue was swirling. For her part, the blonde was moaning loudly and squeezing her left breast with her hand. I watched as the blonde bit her lip and thrust her hips seductively forward. She pinched her nipple and it look so hard and pink I wanted it in my mouth!

Let me note for a second that for my entire life I’d always considered myself asexual. I looked at boys and thought they looked so bulgy and gross. But I’d look at girls and think, “I am a girl, how can she fuck me?” But here I was, looking at this girl get her dick sucked. And I realized that I was incredibly attracted to what I was looking at.

But back to the action. I watched as the blonde slowly put her long-nailed fingers on top of the brunette’s head. She didn’t so much push as guide the brunette’s head farther down onto her cock. I watched the thick, white cock slide into the brunette’s mouth, her lips parting farther and farther and the veiny prick slipped deeper and deeper into her throat. The brunette gagged a little, but kept the cock in her throat, until she finally slipped it all the way out of her mouth. The blonde’s cock was coated in thick saliva, and a dribble of spit connected the brunette’s mouth to the blonde’s cock.

Then the brunette moved down, running her tongue along the blonde’s balls, bouncing the balls gently with her tongue. Then she licked up the shaft, keeping her tongue soft and moving it along the blonde’s urethra. The blonde was apparently in heaven, she was moaning loudly and hugging her big breasts tightly. Then the brunette’s mouth moved back over the pink tip of the blonde’s cock and she plunged it again into her mouth. She continued to swirl her tongue around of the blonde’s cock.

“Oh fuck me!” the blonde suddenly screamed out. Her entire body went rigid and her eyes squeezed even tighter shut. I looked down at the brunette and saw her mouth wasn’t moving. I saw the cock in her mouth quivering as it shot a big load into her mouth. She kept gently rubbing the blonde’s balls while the sperm filled her mouth. Finally the blonde’s body relaxed, and she fell down gently onto the bed.

“Give it back,” the blonde said tersely. The brunette got up off her knees and leaned over the blonde on the bed. I thought she was about to lean in for a kiss but instead, the blonde opened her mouth. The brunette started to spit the thick, white cum out, letting it fall from her mouth in a long, stringy drop of cum and spit. The first bit landed on the blonde’s lip and teeth, she giggled and readjusted herself, letting the rest of the liquid pour into her mouth. When the last of the cum was out of her mouth, the brunette stuck out her tongue to show that it was all gone and turned towards the door.

That was the first anyone noticed me. The brunette girl wiped her hand across her lips and just sort of gave me a look. I wondered if she was looking down at my blue pants and seeing the raging boner I was sporting. That was, like, the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Even with all the weird stuff that had happened to me that day, this was the strangest. I was aroused… you know by people. Maybe I wasn’t just transgender, maybe I was transsexual (and hey, is that a better way to use that word? It makes more sense, like heterosexual like opposite sex, homosexuals like the same sex, and transsexuals like someone with transitioned sex, think about it).

Anyway, the brunette went to walk passed me and I moved to get out of her way, “sorry,” I said but she just kept moving like she didn’t hear me.

“You don’t have to be polite to her,” the blonde said from her bed. She was still naked, and lounging comfortably in the bed. Her cock was soft now and it was coiled neatly against her leg. Somehow, she looked even sexier. She must’ve seen me blushing and staring because she quickly started to get dressed.

“What do you mean?” I said, trying to sputter out something approaching a conversational tone.

“That chick,” the blonde said, slipping her pants on, “she ain’t my girlfriend or anything. She just owed me twenty bucks.” And then she slipped her shirt over her head and walked over to me.

“What?” I started but she extended her hand and smiled at me. I took her hand.

“My name is McKenzie Harper,” she said, shaking my hand twice, then sitting back down on the bed.

“That girl was…sucking your dick because she owed you twenty dollars?” I said and she blushed and laughed.

“Well she owed me 20 bucks, she didn’t have it, so we cut a deal,” she explained. What the hell kind of place had I gotten myself into?

“Oh…” I said, taking a seat on the toilet. Had to keep my head straight, this was like some sort of weird sex dream.

“You are…” she began for me, and I realized that despite the fact that she just told me she’d forced a girl to fellate her in exchange for forgiving debt, she was trying to be polite.

“Oh, I am Odessa…” I started.

“Ko! I knew it!” she said and she smiled wide, “We all watched your trial on TV. You look shorter in person.” She said. I didn’t know what to think. Was this going to make me a celebrity or a pariah in this place. I didn’t know if I wanted to be either.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said weakly.

“They told me I was getting a new roommate today, but I didn’t realize I’d be getting YOU!” she said and I didn’t know if I liked how excited she got, “I can’t wait to show you around!”

After being introduced to my beautiful new roommate McKenzie by watching her get her dick sucked in exchange for forgiving a debt, I kind of wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep away the rest of the day. This was a completely alien world, and hostile. But she was too damned friendly.

“Come on, they won’t lock us in the cells for a few more hours, lets go meet everyone,” she said helpfully. I thought for a minute that it would be nice to know everyone else. Maybe McKenzie could tell me the people to avoid. Unless, maybe, she was one of those people.

McKenzie was dressed again and she somehow made the blue pants, white shirt thing look sexy. She tied her shirt up under her breasts and slung her pants low, exposing her flat stomach and wide hips. I looked down at myself, the one time semi-famous singer, and saw how shabby I looked in my baggy pants and loose shirt. I wished I had McKenzie’s sense of style with this. Maybe it was something you learned.

We walked out of our cell and I just sort of followed behind McKenzie. She shouted to people across the way, worked the room like a politician or something. I tried not to get in the way. Finally, we made our way down the stairs and took a seat at one of the tables closest to the television. I sat down across from her. I was about to try to come up with some sort of conversation when two other girls came and sat down at our table with us.

The girl who sat down next to McKenzie was very pretty. She was a light-skinned black girl with big brown eyes and dreamy pink lips. Her face was angular, fierce, and sexy. She had long black hair, straightened, and small 32-B breasts. She was probably only 5’3, so much shorter than McKenzie, but taller than me. She had a narrow build, but big hips and a big butt.

The girl who sat down next to me was spectacularly beautiful. She wasn’t just the prettiest t-girl I’d ever seen, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was Indian, with long black hair and smooth, dusky skin. Her eyes were large and brown but they seemed to shimmer when she looked at you. Her eye lashes were very long and her features were perfect. Her nose was small and upturned; her lips were pouty and pink. Her breasts were quite large, 36-C and her body was stunning. Even in her prison uniform I could see she had the build of an underwear model, with a round butt, toned stomach, long legs, the whole nine yards. I’d never seen anyone so attractive in my life. She was around 5’4 and 120lbs. I knew I was staring at her, and she sort of blushed shyly and looked away.

“Well everyone,” McKenzie said, clearly this was her clique, “I’d like you all to meet Odessa…”

“Ko!” the black girl said. I was a celebrity, “I recognize you from Nancy Grace. You’re shorter than you looked on television.”

“Everyone says that,” I said nervously, and then it took her hand and shook it.

“That’s Clara,” McKenzie said, “She is lucky she is my girlfriend, or I wouldn’t let her get away with interrupting me and being rude to my new roommate,” McKenzie was laughing as she said this and she turned, smiling to Clara, and kissed her deeply on the mouth. I wondered if the girl could taste the cum the brunette girl had spit back in McKenzie’s mouth. When their kiss broke, McKenzie looked over at me, must’ve seen what I was thinking about, and smiled and laughed.

“Odessa here thinks I am a slut,” she said and crossed her arms over her big breasts. She smiled at me, no hint of anger or accusation. But I put my hands up.

“No I…” I started.

“Why is that?” Clara asked.

“Well, my beloved Clara, I met my new roommate when she walked in on me getting a blowjob and now she sees me kissing you,” McKenzie said, coming right to the heart of the matter. I felt my eyes like, bug out of my head. What was going to happen? But Clara laughed.

“Was it Beth?” she asked and McKenzie just nodded, “Odessa, lighten up. Some things are currency here and some things are love. Just keep it separate. Besides, Beth’s given me a blowjob before, she’s good,” and she pecked McKenzie one the lip again. I didn’t really have a response to that. Each second in this place was weirder than the last.

“I’m Prisha,” the sexy Indian girl next to me said while McKenzie and Clara finished their lip lock. I turned to her and she was giving me a faint, shy smile, “I think your trial was a travesty.” She said. It was, somehow, the nicest thing anyone could say to me at that moment. I felt like tearing up.

“Odessa,” I said, shaking her dainty hand. I could smell her perfume as we touched and I looked deeply into her eyes.

“So I saw Bethany Barber push you into the lunch room a little earlier,” Clara said, knocking me out of the reverie Prisha put me in. I wondered if this was the kind of head over heels feeling people in movies talk about what they, like, fall in love. I don’t know, I was getting ahead of myself.

“Yeah…” I said now, sullenly, thinking back to my experience earlier in the day. In the shower. The baton. My face felt hot and I got nauseous again. McKenzie reached forward and put her hand on mine.

“I can tell that she gave you her special treatment,” McKenzie said sympathetically. I looked up at her. The other girls at my table actually looked concerned. They knew what had happened.

“She just…” I started.

“Oh we know what she did. She got Prisha too,” McKenzie said. I looked over at Prisha, but she was staring at her feet, pretending not to notice, “she gets like a third of the girls who come in. Luckily I got here before she started working here and Clara avoided her. She spends like 90% of her time over on the FTM side of the prison, so we don’t see her much. Just watch out, because once she gets you, she won’t stop.” I didn’t know if I felt relieved that other people had been through what I went through, or terrified that it might happen again. But I looked over at Prisha and I was happy I at least knew someone I could talk to about it. If I needed to. But now I wanted to change topics.

“So, what are you in for?” I said, feeling weird. The other girls laughed.

“I know you were a singer, but were you an actor too?” McKenzie asked, “That is a movie question.”

“Don’t tease her too bad, look she is all red again,” Clara said, and I knew I was blushing. But the good natured teasing was okay, way better than what I would have expected in a male prison. “I have 12 years left on 15 for fraud. I made up fake number for my boss at the strip club I used to work to help him trigger relief portions of his mortgage.” Clara said matter-of-factly.

“30 years for selling drugs,” McKenzie said, and I was surprised. She didn’t look at all scary, or what I thought of when I thought of drug dealers that got lots of time, “I sold high end weed that I grew hydroponically in my garage.” I guess that explained it. I looked over at Prisha.

“Life for murder,” was all she said. She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t say anything else. The other girls pretended they didn’t notice. They seemed used to giving Prisha her space. But I was feeling, all of the sudden, like I needed less space. These girls all seemed great. They could totally be my friends. But I was still wary; I’d seen too many movies to know whether or not I was being put on.

We spent the rest of our free time that day getting to know one another. I learned that McKenzie was a born and bred in California, she was older than I thought at 32, and she’d done a little work in the t-girl porn industry when she first turned 18 (don’t try to look her up, she used a fake name). I learned that Clara was from Mississippi and moved to California when she was 18 to try to become an actress. She worked at a strip club (as an accountant) while she searched for roles. She was the oldest in our group at 33. Finally, I learned that Prisha was the daughter (not that they recognized her as that) of a wealthy Indian industrialist family and that she’d come to America to transition and go to school when she got in trouble. She stood to inherit her family’s entire fortune because she was the only living relative of both her mother and father. She was the closest in age to me at 25.

When we’d all met, the girls took me around and showed me all of the other cliques, pointing them out from afar. I was told the groups that I could talk to, the people to avoid, and the little bits of gossip that always show up when this many girls are together. What I was most surprised by, though, was the fact that as I walked around the prison, I would occasionally see girls kissing each other. Rarer, but not that rare, I would look into cells and see girls performing sex acts in the bunks. I didn’t know if these girls were exchanging “currency” like Clara said or dating, but it was strange to see. The guards either didn’t notice or, more likely, pretended not to notice. But it was all very surreal.

June 2018
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