The Ex-cons

Chapter 1

I spent 6 years in the U.S. Army before I had had enough of our useless endless wars. I just couldn’t understand how we could waste the lives of so many beautiful young Americans who we sent to fight for and against religious concepts that none of them understood. Even though I felt fortunate to have gotten through all six of my army years as a Technical Sargent without killing a single person, I still opted to go back to civilian life even though I didn’t feel any more prepared for civilian employment than I did when I graduated high school.

I took a grocery clerk job about two weeks after returning to live with my parent’s. To me it was only a temporary place holding job while I took civil service exams for firefighter positions in cities and counties within a 50 mile radius of my parent’s home. Unfortunately, hiring seemed to be minimal at the time, while applicants for each test seemed to range from 500 to 1000 people. As a result, I never seemed to ever make the cut. I thought about taking tests for police and sheriff positions, which were far more plentiful. But because those professions would once again put a gun in my hand, they didn’t seem right for me.

Then one day I got a call from an old boyhood friend. His name is Bobby Keven, and he was working as a C.O. or Corrections Officer at Fulsome Prison, just outside of the City of Sacramento. He seemed to enjoy his job, even though to me it seemed grim and depressing. But he convinced me that he was actually able to help people when they were at their life’s lowest ebb. So I did some on-line research and learned that the C.O. position with The California Department of Corrections paid well, had great benefits, and a retirement plan that was much better than anything that was being offered in the civilian world.

Because Bobby was my only gay friend, and he was the only person who knew I was gay, I decided that if the C.O. position was working for Bobby, then it might also work for me. So I took his suggestion and put my name in for upcoming tests. A few months went by before a notification came in the mail informing me that a civil service exam was finally being giving for the California Department of Corrections, C.O. position. That letter instructed me to go to San Francisco to take the written part of the exam. I almost didn’t go as I had to miss work the day of the exam, but in the end, because of its increased pay and benefits I decided the nearly one hundred mile trip, and the forfeiting of a day’s pay might be worth it.

Even though I felt good about how I answered their questions, it was three weeks before I got a second letter stating that I had passed the written exam and was under consideration for employment. That letter instructed me to return to San Francisco for a physical agility tests, a medical exam, and finally a psychiatric exam. I took those exams, and another month passed before I got a third letter stating that I had been accepted into California’s Department of Corrections Academy in Sacramento. That was a strange time for me as it caused me to wonder if I wanted to watch over people who were locked up. In fact, the whole idea of becoming a corrections officer was beginning to depress me, and those feelings didn’t change after I completed California’s thirty day C.O. training program.

Upon graduating I was assigned to fill an opening at the California Departments of Corrections Facility at Tehachapi California. I didn’t even know where Tehachapi was until I Googled it and learned that it was a small town that was located in a mountainous desert area about a hundred miles North West of Bakersfield. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t thrilled with that assignment. But I accepted the position hopping that I would someday have enough seniority to ask for a transfer to a prison closer to my hometown.

Two days later I made the trip down to Tehachapi to look for an apartment. I wasn’t impressed with the apartment I found, but it was affordable, and would serve my purposes. I also didn’t particularly care for the town of Tehachapi, especially its heat, nor the all but constant wind that blew through the area. But as it turned out, I did like the job. And because I wasn’t married, nor did I have any children to distract me, I was able to dedicate all of my time to the job, to the point that I studied and learned everything there was to know about the facility’s rules and regulations, as well as both inmate and staff management. And because I had gotten so into the job, it was easy for me to study for and take promotional exams as soon as my seniority allowed. So within 2 years, when I was only 27 years old, I was promoted to Sargent, making me the youngest Sargent on staff at that time.

None of that may seem important, but that promotion brought new and unexpected changes to my life, because when I was promoted I was reassigned to the night shift as the SIC, or Sargent In Charge of the midnight to 8:AM, D Facility C.O. staff. D Facility consisted of a single round building with five wings radiating from its center structure, and had a night crew of 15 Correction Officers. I got on well with all of my staff, even though most of them were older than myself and had more on-the-job experience. And because I didn’t just sit at my desk, but rather was constantly on the move between all 5 of D Facility’s wing buildings, I got to know my staff well, and they got to know me.

All went along as expected for almost two months, which is how things are expected to go in a maximum security prison. But then one night I just happened to run into a particularly attractive young prisoner in C wing . It was long after lights out when I was making my usual rounds that caused me to approach his cell. The building was quiet with the exception of a subdued but angry voice that caused me to proceed quietly while listening intently. And when I could finally look into the cell to see what was going on, I saw an older inmate, (Bodie Clemens, a 45 years old man convicted of home invasion) scolding a much younger prisoner, (Andrew Gilman, a 20 year old inmate convicted of car thief). The older man was dressed in a T shirt and white prison issued boxers, while the younger man wore only a T shirt, and so was naked from the waist down. I coughed to make my presence known, and then asked, “So what seems to be the problem here?”

Both prisoners turned to face me as I ordered the older man to step away from the younger man before repeating, “So what’s going on here.”

The younger man spoke up to tell me that everything was okay, that he deserved to be spanked as he had done a poor job cleaning their cell on his cleaning day, and that his cellmate was only teaching him a lesson. That was when I noted that the younger man was partially erect, and so I instinctively looked to the older man’s crotch. And even though he was wearing his prison issue boxers, I could see that his penis was equally erect.

Now I know this may not seem right to most civilians, but as C.O.’s we seldom get involved in consensual sex between prisoners, no matter how bazar their sexual practices might seem, and that was what I suspected was going on in that cell.

Still, I asked the younger prisoner his name, and he reported “Andrew Gilman, Sir.”

To which I responded, “Put your pants on, Gilman.”

Bodie Clemens reported his name as I kept my flashlight on Andrew Gilman, who had turned his back to me to retrieve his boxers. And while bending so he could put his feet in them, he gave me a full and unencumbered view of the perfect rounds of his buttocks. That was when I noted that both globes of his buttocks were crimson red, causing me to realize that what he had just reported must have actually happened, and that he had indeed been thoroughly spanked.

It would be hard for me to single out a particular trait of Andrew Gilman’s that turned me on, because he was so generally attractive that I was all but in awe of him. Because of the demands of my job, I had seen plenty of naked inmates. I had searched them dressed and undressed. I had even searched their anuses and rectums. But there was something quite different about Andrew Gilman. It was as if everything about him oozed a sexual innocence that drew me to him, to the point that I immediately wanted to know him, to even be part of his life. So instead of writing the incident up, I announced, that before I would make an I.L.E. (Infraction Log Entry), I would read through both of their files. And then I looked to the older prisoner, and said, “In the meantime, Mr. Clemens, I don’t want any more spanking. Is that understood?”

Neither prisoner responded to my order, so with my gaze still on the older prisoner, I repeated, “Is that understood, Mr. Clemens?”

Both inmates acknowledged my orders upon my second request, and after writing their cell number in my note book, I left to finish my rounds.

When I got back to D facility’s central office, I did a computer search for Andrew Gilman’s file where I learned that he was 20 years of age. That he had come to us, not as an adult, but as a 17 year old boy who had been sentenced by an adult court. I learned that he was serving a three year sentence for auto theft. That he had basically been a model prisoner, yet he had never requested a parole hearing, and so was serving the final month of his full sentence. I learned that he had no known family on the outside, and so was expected to have no outside support upon his release. I also learned, that because he had never asked for a parole hearing, he was due to be released, not paroled, but on a “Completion of Sentence Release” which carries no restrictions nor required supervision.

Deeper in his file I read that he was the only son of a drug addicted mother who had died of an overdose when he was three. I learned, that because of his mother’s addiction, Andrew was also addicted at the time of his birth. And deeper in his file I learned that he had an above average IQ, but that he had also been diagnosed by CDC’s psychiatric staff as suffering from ADHD, or Attention Deficit-Hyperactivity Disorder, and that he had also been judged to have an immature and highly dependent personality.

All of that probably wouldn’t have impressed most C.O’s, but after reading Andrew Gilman’s file I decided that I had to intervene in his life. I checked over the bed assignment roster for D facility and discovered that we had an open cell in “A” Wing. It was then that I decided to send C.O.’s to Andrew’s cell to transfer him and his belongings to that empty cell. I justified the move in my log entry by explaining that it was necessary to ensure that Andrew Gilman wouldn’t be taken advantage of by older prisoners, and to ensure that he would remain eligible for release on July 7th of 2013, which was his scheduled date of release. Because I couldn’t show any personal interest in Andy or his situation, I called my gay friend, Bobby Keven, and had him act as a caring civilian by arranging to have The Golden State Care Package Company send a CDC approved (see through case) TV set to Andy’s new cell as I felt such a distraction might be necessary for an ADHD prisoner in a solitary cell. After all, I wanted to improve his life, not add to his suffering.

That next night, instead of starting my shift by making my usual rounds, I went to Andy’s new cell and escorted him back to my office. There we talked about his upcoming release, a change in his life that he wasn’t particularly looking forward to. I learned that he felt he had no place to go, and no one to help him re-integrate into society. So for the first time in my life, I came right out and told him that I cared for him, and that I wanted to be his person on the outside. I went so far as to tell him, that even though I was only six years older than him, I would step in and play the part of his father that he never knew. That caused Andy to ask why I would go to such trouble for him. And that was when I took the biggest chance of my life by telling him, that for reasons I didn’t fully understand, I really liked him, and couldn’t see myself doing anything but helping him.

Andy immediately got teary eyed, and asked, “Why do you think you like me. You don’t even know me.”

I looked into his moistened eyes and said, “Your right, but I know more about you than you think. In fact, I know enough about you that I think you deserve a real chance at life, and that’s why I’m offering to help you, to be your mentor, to help you get on your feet once you’re released.”

“I thought you said you were willing to act as my father. Did you mean that?”

“Yes,” I said, “I only said “mentor” because I was afraid that you might be uncomfortable with the word “father” especially because I’m only 6 years older than you.”

“Well I’m not uncomfortable with the father word. In fact, mentor sounds impersonal, while father sounds like you might even love me like a real father would love his son, no matter how old you are.”

“Okay, I get that.” I said, “So if you’re comfortable with father, then let’s go with father.”

Then while still gazing into my eyes, he asked, “But do you think you love me?”

For obvious reasons I was afraid to answer that question at first, but I finally managed to say, “Yes, Andy, I think I do.”

“Will you spank me when I’m bad, or will you just send me back to prison?”

While trying to suppress my own tears, I said, “I would never send you back to prison, and you need to know that I love you too much to spank you.”

With tears trickling down his face, he asked, “I can’t believe that you really love me, Sir?”

I nodded my head, and Andy began to out and out weep. I got up and walked around my desk so I could lift him to a standing position so I could take him in a full embrace. It’s hard for me to explain, even to this day, but it felt truly wonderful to hold Andy Gilman in my arms. We talked for another hour before I escorted him back to his cell with him having a renewed hope for a life after prison.

Because of my schedule I was able to meet with Andy every weekday night for the next two weeks. We talked about anything and everything he wanted to talk about, and for the first time he wanted to talk about his future, our future together. I reinforce the idea that I would help him make a future for himself every time I got the chance, which eventually brought him back to asking if I was going to be like a real father to him, a loving father. I told him that I would love him as much as any good father would love his son, but legally I would actually only be considered a friend, a very good friend.

Andy began to weep, causing me to ask if he was okay. He answered, “But I need a father. I need to be loved by a real father.”

I truly did love Andy by that point, yet because of my position I couldn’t show my true feelings for him as it could threaten my employment. But during the last week of his incarceration Andy began to beg me to kiss him before we parted each evening. As dangerous as that was in my position, and only because I needed to kiss him as much as he needed to be kissed, I began to give in and kiss Andy each night in the privacy of my office before escorting him back to his cell. Even though that kiss was far beyond my expected duties, it made me feel guilty because I couldn’t respond to Andy’s need for affection at the level he wanted and needed, nor at the level I truly wanted to show.

Most of our prisoner releases are scheduled to take place during the early morning hours. And as it turned out, Andy’s release had been moved up to July 2nd, at 3:AM, five days ahead of his original release date. Because of my position I knew the exact minute of his release before he did, and so I knew it was going to happen while I was on duty. As much as I wanted to take that day off, I did nothing to change my schedule as I didn’t want to draw attention to my interest in one of our prisoners. Instead, I had my apartment manager, John Boykin, meet Andy at the gate upon his release. John was more of an acquaintance than a true friend at that time, but he was someone I could trust with something as important to me as Andrew Gilman.

I put in for a two week vacation the morning Andy was released, and then I acted as if nothing of interest was happening as I made my usual rounds. As it turned out, that was all truly an act, as the truth was that I was very anxious for the rest of my shift. In fact, I was so anxious to meet Andy for the first time while he was a free man that it seemed to take forever for that shift to finally come to an end.

Andy and John were awake and waiting for me in John’s apartment when I got back to my apartment building. I had originally planned to take Andy to my apartment without letting John know the true extent of our relationship, but Andy spoiled that plan the instant he saw me by jumping up and hugging and kissing me right in front of John. I was afraid our “jig” was up, but as it turned out, John was understanding and so kept our secret. I thanked him for his troubles, and then took Andy to my apartment. I made a bed up for him on my couch, which only brought on tears. And when I asked him why he was crying, he said, “Please, can’t I sleep with you, at least for a little while? I won’t bother you. I won’t talk, and I won’t wiggle around, I’ll just be good.”

I gave in, and gave Andy a peck on his cheek as I told him that he could sleep with me if that would make him feel more secure. Instead of answering, he surprised me by pulling my body to his and kissing me while pushing his tongue in my mouth, which he probed around throughout that prolonged kiss with a passion I’d never before experienced. When our lips parted, he said, “Please don’t wear underwear to bed, and don’t make me. I’ve been dreaming of sleeping naked with you since the day we met.”

Because Andy had been released and not paroled, he had no restrictions and was free to live his life with no oversight from the “system”. Yet I knew that Andy needed supervision, a fact that he also understood. In fact, he all but crave it, so I figured I could use our sleeping together as a bargaining chip in my new supervisory role, or in Andy’s mind, my new parental role. So I gave into his request and we climbed into bed while totally nude. You might not think that was such a big deal, but it was important to Andy, and after that morning it became equally important to me.

Andy had an almost constant erection while in our bed that first morning. And even though he had promised not to bother me if I let him sleep in my bed, he couldn’t manage to be still, nor could he keep his hands from constantly moving over my body, caressing me, hugging me, and even kissing me. I have to admit that I reveled in his attentions, to the point that I eventually began to kiss him like I had never kissed anyone before. We kissed and kissed while hugging each other’s bodies, something that led us into a session of deep kissing, butt fondling, and naked body rubbing against naked body with erect penises rubbing against each other until we both climaxed.

Everything about that morning was a first for me, and was so new and wonderful that I was glad that I would be off for the next two days, (Saturday and Sunday) and so would have two uninterrupted days with Andy before I would have to leave him to himself, something I knew he wasn’t looking forward to.