Date: Wed, 4 Apr 2007 20:05:23 EDT
From: NPhillydogg@aol.com
Subject: the hole-13

	Piedmont Penitentiary is an old turn of the century prison nick
named "The HOLE" on the outskirts of Philadelphia in the Valley Forge
section of Pennsylvania, which was built to hold up to 500 convicted
inmates. Today it holds nearly 1500, 3 times it's intended population. Over
crowding means there are 2 to 3 men or more per cell, which was originally
built to house just one. The plumbing is old and rusted, the walls are
crumbly, the foundation is corroded, and morale is low. Inmates and
Officers complain of conditions, but more complaints are lost to the board
of directors. Politicians that look to line their pockets before updating
repairs for inmates, run the board. No one cares if convicted criminals
complain about "unfair" living conditions. They were incarcerated for
punishment, not comfort. Most tax payers see them as animals that need to
be locked up off the streets. They are forgotten and unwanted members of
society, -the scary and depraved. Whatever happens to them behind bars is
more than likely deserved!

____________________________________________________________________________

The HOLE/13
IMPLICATIONS

	The news of Tempest Williams' escape from federal capture spread
across the airwaves like wildfire. Hospital security, Philadelphia PD, as
well as prison officials faced inquiries for Tempest's escape. Followers of
Tempest in the prison's TV room cheered when the news hit the air. Tempest
was on American's Most Wanted list, a convicted fugitive with the means and
the contacts to be anywhere underground. Neighborhoods Tempest was known to
frequent and rule were shut down and searched for his whereabouts, with no
results. Additional drug dealers and female impersonating prostitutes were
rounded up and arrested, and questioned about Tempest's contacts. Nothing
the police did brought for the desired results they sought. When questioned
by reporters about the mishandling of police and prison officials alike,
Captain David L. McConnell had this to say; "We at Precinct-23 are saddened
to hear of mr Williams' escape from custody, especially after all the hard
work from our undercover agents in obtaining him. But we will aid Piedmont
Penitentiary, as well as the FBI, in finding and locating mr Williams
before he gets any further, or is able to spread anymore of his poisons on
the streets of Philadelphia. Thank you."


Pt-1 Piedmont Penitentiary...

"The mother fucker is still alive? I thought he was DEAD!" said Sarge, head
of the Aryans at Piedmont.

"An obvious deception! We weren't informed correctly!" said Hammer,
watching the broadcast from their own cell block.

"We had that black mother fucker down on the ground, -bleeding! How the
fuck did he survive?!" asked Snake, recalling the incident vividly.

"Fucker his nine lives!" said Gardner, aka Terminator, -former police
offer, now convict. "Do you have any idea how many cops, dealers,
undercover agents, and convicts have tried to kill that black mother
fucker? Yet still he keeps popping up, like a new breed of cockroach! You
never had a chance of killing him..., cause Tempest isn't afraid of death!"

"Who're you..., captain of the Tempest fucking Williams fan club?" asked
Snake, getting a snicker or two from his Aryan brethren.

"No..., but I'm a man who learns from his mistakes. You fuck with Tempest
Williams..., he fucks you back, -harder! Deeper! Stronger!"

"What can he do to us? We're in here, and he's out there?" asked Hammer,
curiously.

"Your families are out there..., your wives, your children, your sons,
daughters, parents, grandparents..., -do you really think Tempest is going
to just let you do what you did to him, and just walk away? I doubt it!"
	The Aryans all looked around at each other with concern, the faces
of their closest friends and families flashing in their minds.

"That black fucker can go after my trailer trash family all he fucking
wants! Save me the fucking trouble, later!" joked Snake, not really
concerned. But Hammer, Sarge, and Luke looked concerned. In fact, they
started to make provisions to call home to warn their family members of
impending danger. -Which was exactly what Gardner wanted.

"That ought to put a fire up under their asses!" he said, returning to his
cell with his fellow cellmates, -Alan Cooper and Donald Blake.

"Exactly how is warning their families of Tempest supposed to help us in
the long run?" asked Blake, still in the dark as far as Gardner's over all
plans.

"It's a distraction..., if they're worried about what's going on -on the
outside, they're less inclined to know what's happening right up under
their noses! And when they slip up and make mistakes, -we'll be there to
make sure that they are fatal ones!" smiled Gardner.


Pt-2 "Who fucked you, David? Who did this to you?" asked Raul, fuming over
thoughts of his little brother being gang banged by convicts. "Tell me who
it was, so I can fucking MURDER them!!"

"Calm down, Raul...!" insisted David, regretting the decision to let
Genuwine and his boiz fuck him.

"Calm down? Calm down?? After I just heard some mollies just butt fucked my
baby brother??! Are you fucking crazy!? I', going insane right now!! Who
was it??! I wanna know who it was!!" screamed Raul, losing his mind.

"It's not like that, Ra'..., it's not what you think...!" said David,
trying to defuse the situation.

"What the fuck'r you saying?" asked Raul, confused.

"Were you raped, or weren't you?" asked Alex, calmer than Raul.
	David looked at the both of them, tears forming in his eyes.

"No..., I wasn't raped." he admitted, much to Alex's relief and dismay.
	Alex dropped his head in despair and disappointment as he turned to
walk out of the Rodriguez cell. "No, Alex..., don't go! Please!" yelled
David, grabbing Alex by the arm. Alex pulled away, not wanting to face his
lover at the moment. Raul looked on in confusion.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he asked, watching the 2 men go through
the motions.

"I'm sorry, Alex! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! It didn't mean anything! I
swear!!" pleaded David.

"Let go of me!" yelled Alex, pulling away more forcefully.

"What's going on?" asked Raul, lost.

"Alex please...!?" begged David, pulling harder.
	Raul got between the 2 men, pulling them both apart while holding
onto the both of them.

"What the fuck is the problem, here?!!" he asked again, in a serious
tone. Both David and Alex looked at Raul, then at each other. Alex then
turned away, unable to look David in the face.

"I...I cheated on Alex..., with Genuwine." he admitted.

"The fucking singer?" asked Raul.

"No..., the drug dealer..., a Mandingo!" answered David.
	Raul's mind played an automatic rewind as he thought of the names
of the Mandingos. Once he realized what his brother had just admitted to, a
rage swelled up in Raul that David was only too familiar with. Raul let go
of Alex, and clocked his younger brother dead across the face, knocking him
instantly to the ground in a fit of anger.

"Raul..., don't...!!" called Alex, pulling at the older brothers as he
raised his fist to hit him again.

"You fucking whore!" he yelled, kicking David in the thigh as Alex pulled
him away. "After all the shit I've done for you! After all the fucking
covering up I did! Even getting Alex involved! You fucking faggot!!"
	Carlos and his boiz; Neko and Pablo ran in to help. They saw Alex
fighting with Raul and instinctively jumped on Alex's case. When Carlos saw
who the intended target was when Raul started flaring on their younger
brother David, he stood in shock.

"I'm sorry, Raul! I'm sorry!" cried David, balling himself up in a
protective shell as his brother wailed away on him. Eventually Raul stopped
beating David, and ran from the cell in anger and disgust. Alex lay on the
floor at the feet of Carlos' men, he and David staring into each other's
eyes for the briefest of moments before Alex too got up and left. David
crumbled to the floor, crying in his own sweat and tears.


Pt-3
	Christopher Gardner now belonged to the Mandingos. He and Nakia
Dawson worked the black cell blocks of Piedmont Penitentiary as "working
girls" for Duke. Their den mother, and tranny by the name of "Swallow",
made them up in hair and tight fitted dresses she made of her own
hands. She taught the men how to become ladies, teaching them how to be
more demure, and aloof, to entice the men into wanting them for their
mystique. "You can catch more bees with honey than shit, girlfriends,
believe that!" –she'd often tell them.
	The men learned how to walk and talk in a feminine manner. For
Nakia it was harder, having never seen himself in such an unmanly
demeanor. But for Chris Gardner, it was like riding an old bicycle he once
had as a child. The instant he walked out of the Den Mother's cell, he was
transformed into Chelsea, the `white bread' bitch. For Chelsea, there was
no shortage of black dick looking to fuck her pink delicious holes. She
spent more time on her hands and knees, getting fucked front and back, with
the occasional double fuck from cellmates willing to pay for a triple
special. High on drugs, she performed like a true vixen, sucking and
fucking every dick placed before or behind her with vigor. Duke would often
flaunt Chelsea in front of her father Bruce Gardner, and the Aryan
brotherhood, knowing they would hate the idea of a white man giving up his
holes solely for black dick. But what they didn't know was that Christopher
was there in their cell block, because of his father. Bruce had arranged to
have Chris moved there, to keep him alive form the sure death the Aryans
had been planning for him.

	Nakia Dawson didn't find the transformation as easy to
assimilate. He still held onto his lost manhood, remembering his life
outside the prison walls. He remembered women, and love, and sex with
females. He recalled being the man, being on top, and enjoying a soft body
beneath him. Now he had to contend with men looking at him as that soft
body, wanting to fuck him like he had fucked women.
	But as hard as Nakia found it to assimilate into his womanhood, he
also found it happening nevertheless. With every new dick plunged into his
aching "pussy", he found getting fucked becoming more and more easy. Most
of the men treated him (and Chelsea) like trash, paid whores to dump their
unwanted cum loads in. But occasionally he found a man that would treat him
like a true lady, making love to his body rather than merely fucking
him. Nowhere was this account more noticeable than with the Muslim Amahd.

	Amahd always arranged for Nakia to come while his cellmate was
out. He'd have candles burning, making the scene romantic. He'd have soft
music playing on his old radio to lighten the mood and help them forget
their surroundings. Sometimes he'd massage Nakia, soothing her aching
muscles after a long day of fucking strangers. Then he'd kiss her all over
her back and neck, taking the time to tell her how lovely she looked and
how hard he was for her. Nakia found himself wanting to get Amahd off,
wanting to do a good job to please him for his kindness. After being dogged
out by many of the men fucking him, having someone take the time to be
gentle, was like being reminded he was still human.
	After time, Nakia found himself wanting Amahd. He missed him on
days or weeks they didn't see each other sexually. He'd often imagine Amahd
while getting fucked by other inmates, it helped him to cope with what was
happening to believe that there was someone here who really cared about
him, even only if imaginary.

	On this particular day, Amahd had been planning on Nakia's visit to
his cell for days. He arranged to have his cellmate out of the way while he
prepared for his lady friend. In the Muslim religion, such practices are
discouraged and frowned upon, but Amahd believed desperate times caused for
desperate measures. When Nakia came into his cell, she was wearing a tight
red dress, and a long black wig. Amahd's dick swelled instantly.

"Damn, you look pretty!" said Amahd, turning on the radio and finding a
smooth jazz station to compensate for the noises in the background of the
prison.
	Nakia blushed, then came into the cell. Duke had always arranged
all of Nakia's meetings, receiving payment upfront before services were
rendered. Nakia never knew what any inmate paid to fuck him, a pack of
cigarettes? Money? Gum? Favors? Nothing at all?

	He sat on Amahd's bed while the Muslim poured them something to
drink, "moonshine" made from one of the white inmates whom had a
claim. Nakia found the alcohol (made from old pickle juice from the
kitchen) quite good for bootleg. One could easily get intoxicated from the
concoction (as was many of the Aryans who drank it often).
	Amahd always started off tenderly, kissing, nibbling, touching,
caressing, -making Nakia feel like a woman, despite his discomfort at
playing the female role. Duke made Swallow (the Den Mother) beat femininity
into Nakia's head. He wanted her to forget she ever had a penis, and
concentrate solely on using her ass and mouth for pleasure and
gratification. While Nakia got little use out of his dick with inmates
(besides the occasional jack off while getting fucked), he always sprung a
hardon while performing for Amahd. Even such a demeaning task as sucking
the straight man's dick, got Nakia unusually hard as Amahd would often
caress her face and hair, staring down into her brown eyes while she sucked
him to full stiffness. Then Amahd would settle her on her back or stomach,
and eat her plump pussy before fucking her. Nakia had never experienced
having his ass ate until Amahd surprised her one day after washing away the
left over semen from her clogged hole. He bathed her in his cell's sink
before putting his face down between her legs and licking her swollen
twat. Ever since, Nakia makes sure she cleans herself well (thanks to madam
Swallow and her douche techniques) before heading over to Amahd's cell for
sex.

	Amahd is a tall, dark, average attractive man with a medium to
large build. At 6-4, he is no push over, and his gentleness always seemed
to surprise Nakia. As a free man he loved women, and eating pussy had
always been one of his delights. The moment he saw Nakia walk into the
cafeteria fully dressed as a she/male (in chap-9), Amahd knew he had to
have her. He remembers trying to look unaffected as Duke paraded the man
around the room, showing off his fat ass to hungry customers. Muhammad,
Abdul, and other Muslims sat together at their own table, ignoring the wild
cheers going on around them. Muhammad made some endearing speech about
"staying strong and unrelenting through adversities", and not "giving in to
the temptations" around them. But Amahd's dick grew rock hard under that
table as he caught glimpses of Nakia's backside on display.
	Now he licked his full lips and buried his face between the man's
ass cheeks, licking and sucking at the fat quivering hole which had given
him so much pleasure since. Nakia lay back in bed, his legs spread to
reveal his anal ring to his inmate lover. He tried to stifle moans and
grunts as Amahd's tongue drilled into his asshole, making him relax and
enjoy what was about to come next.

	Amahd knew their time was always limited. His cellmate would be due
to return soon, and he knew Duke would have other inmates waiting to use
Nakia's body. He'd kiss his way up her flat stomach or back (ignoring her
dripping dick), and stick his fat tongue into her mouth as he slid his dick
into her wet cave. Nakia would gasp aloud as his dick moved into her,
wedging its way deep inside her cove.
	Amahd would then fuck Nakia in which ever position he chose,
starting off slowly to allow her anal muscles to get used to the fat girth
of his dick. Once he felt her male-vagina relax and accept him, he'd start
to fuck harder, feeding her more and more of his thick sausage. Nakia would
grunt and groan in delight, loving the experience more than others. While
Amahd would be busy sucking Nakia's neck from behind, or deep kissing her
face to face, Nakia's neglected dick would throb uncontrollably, reacting
to his constant stimulations. Usually she'd cum (without touching herself),
bursting a heavy dose of cream across her stomach or on his bed sheets
while he rode her hard and steadily. Amahd loved it when she did that, as
it meant he did his job well and she'd always want to come back for
more. It was only after he'd watch her cum, that he would concentrate on
his own orgasm, fucking her harder until he felt his dick start to strain
and hose her insides with a large dose of cum.

	After the service, Amahd would gather his strength and pull out of
her. He'd gently clean her wet pussy with a warm cloth, before helping her
dress and escorting her out of his cell. Nakia would walk down the cell
block, his body tingling all over from the amazing sex he'd just
experienced as his asshole dribbled remnants of Amahd's love. It was during
those times (after a good fucking) that inmates noticed the switch in his
step as he wandered down to his next appointment.


Pt-4
	A new inmate to arrive to Piedmont was an asian (Vietnamese
descent) by the name of Phi Bui. His grandparents were victims of the
Vietnam War, who migrated to the United States to find better lives for
themselves. Their daughter (Ju Bui) got involved with a man who set her up
a job working in a massage parlor. It was there that his mother became a
prostitute, and impregnated 4 times by clients. Phi Bui never knew who his
biological father was, but was raised by Ju's parents in one of the poorest
sections of Philly with his siblings. It was there that he got involved in
gangs and dope dealing with the other minorities of his hood. With an asian
look and an american background, Phi Bui quickly became one of the most
ruthless kids in his neighborhood. Involved in drive-bys, robberies,
assaults, break-ins, theft, grand larceny, -he was finally convicted at the
age of 18 and sentenced to no less than 5 yrs in jail at Piedmont
Penitentiary.
	Having heard horror stories about prison life, Phi Bui knew he
would be an outsider looking in. With most correctional institutes broken
up into black, white, and hispanic populace, Phi knew he'd be the odd man
out with nobody backing him up. He'd have to work twice as hard to prove
himself to inmates who would try to "punk" him first time out. And without
his neighborhood homboiz to help him out, he knew the odds weren't in his
favor.

	At only 5-7 and 130 lbs, he was a petite stature. Most all of the
other men in his group were taller, bigger, and thicker than he. But Phi
was used to being the smallest in class and neighborhood, -it only meant he
had to hit harder to gain the respect of his adversaries. Unsure which
block to put the asian american, prison officials opted for the Hispanic
Block, hoping the transition would be an easier one.
	When Phi came walking through the block gates holding his pillow
and prison toiletries, he was eyeballed by all the hispanics in his cell
block.

"What the fuck is this?" asked one inmate, taking offense to the other
minority being hosed with his people. "Yo..., this ain't no garbage block!
We don't take left overs!" he yelled to the guard that escorted Phi to his
cell.

"Chill out!" said Peachtree (a 43 yr old guard last seen in chap-1). He
walked Phi through the prison block, receiving boo's and hisses from
disapproving inmates. He was shown his new prison cell, which he was to
share with Alex Sanchez. "New fish, Alex..., be nice to him!" said
Peachtree, leaving the two alone.

"Sup?" said Alex, still nursing the sore nose he sustained from playing
basketball. Phi said nothing as he looked Alex up and down coldly, then
turned his back to him to set up his bunk.

"Sup Alex...?" said Raul, stepping into the cell with his brother Carlos,
and several members of their Rootboiz posse.

"Nothing much, Raul..., how's David?" asked Alex, concerned.

"He's handlin'..., that's all." said Raul, uninterested in discussing
family business. "Who's the new cat?" he asked, nodding towards Phi.

"I dunno. Doesn't want to introduce himself." said Alex, still laying back
against his bunk.

"Sup..., I'm Raul." said the oldest Rodriguez, holding out his hand to
welcome the newcomer. Phi Bui turned and looked at it, but didn't
react. Raul was nearly the same height and weight as Phi, only of Spanish
descent. "So you just gonna leave a nigga hanging?" he asked, leaving his
hand stretched. Phi looked around at all the tan faces staring back at him,
waiting for a reaction.
	Slowly he reached out, and grasped Raul's hand in a timid, but
friendly handshake.

"I'm Phi." he offered, nothing more.

"Kew." said Ra', pulling back his hand. "Watch your back around here,
Phi..., mother fuckers'll fuck you just assume look at you! You need to
align yourself with some thorough boiz.., get yourself into a gang. Make
peace with the Rootboiz."

"Rootboiz?" asked Phi, sizing up Raul and his men.

"Me and my posse! We run this block! If you need anything, you come to us!
Kewl?"

"That's wussup." said Phi, respecting Raul off the bat. Ra and his men
turned, and walked back out the way they came, leaving Alex and his new
cellmate to themselves. "Who was that?" asked Phi, looking over at Alex as
he continued to play with his nose.

"Raul Rodriguez. He and his brothers run this block. He's in with the
prison cartel. One of the heads, sort of speak." said Alex.

"And who're you to him?" asked Phi, sensing some connection.

"I'm his brother in-law." he answered rather easily.

"Married to his sister?" asked Phi.

"Something like that." sighed Alex.


"Pt-5
	In the prison guard's locker-room, correctional officers change
from uniform to street clothes and back. For those going home, it's been a
long day of prison fights, routine patrols, and overtime. For those coming
into work, it's a long night ahead.
	Correctional officer Malik Jones is changing from his street
clothes to his uniform, when fellow officer, 22 yr old Andrew Roberts comes
in from the showers with a plain white towel wrapped around his trim waist.

"Can't wait to get up outta here...!" excited Roberts, rushing to his
locker as he tip-toed across the cold cement floor. "It's not often that I
get to work day shift! Gots me a date with a sexy girl tonight!"

"Finally gonna get that little dick of yours laid, eh kid?" laughed
Peachtree, putting his weapons up in his locker.

"Something like that!" laughed Roberts, eager to get off. "My mom set up
this date with a girl from her church."

"Your mom's your pimp?" laughed officer McGee, slapping on deodorant. "Your
CHURCH pimp??"

"Hey..., those church girls make the biggest freaks!" surmised Peachtree,
removing his utility-belt. "Where do you think I met my wife?"

"A street corner?" asked McGee, jokingly.

"Let's not talk about wives, Don..., at least my wife don't swing from a
pole every night!" countered Peachtree.

"Hey..., my wife makes good money as a pole dancer! Paid her way through
college!" admitted McGee.

"Yeah..., I think I paid for one of her semesters myself!" joked
Cobbs. "She's HOT!"

"Fuck you, Jerry!" laughed McGee.

"No. But your wife could, anytime!" joked Cobbs, good heartedly.
	While the guards all made jokes, Roberts pulled off his towel,
revealing his tight little body and firm ass. Malik tried to ignore it as
he changed into his uniform.

"You used to be a cop, right?" asked Roberts, starting small talk as he
reached for his underwear.

"Yeah." answered Malik, not used to discussing himself to co-workers.

"What was it like? I've always wanted to be a police officer!" glee
Roberts.

"Why would you wanna be a cop, kid?" asked Peachtree. "It's a shitty job!
They make crap for money, and always get shot at!"

"But..., they get so much respect! They get to carry real guns, and make
arrest!" said Roberts. "They make a difference, like getting Tempest
Williams off the streets!"

"Have you seen the news lately?" asked McGee, pulling on his
jeans. "Tempest Williams escaped!"

"But that wasn't the police fault! Was it?" asked Roberts.

"Philadelphia police officers were stationed outside his door! You tell
me!" said Mcgee.

"Have you read about Precinct-23?" asked Peachtree, unbuttoning his uniform
shirt. "Corrupt cops! Bad arrest! Undercover blunders! Nothing glamorous
about that!"

"Which precinct did you work for Malik?" asked Roberts curiously, standing
in his tighty-whities.

"Precinct-23!" said Malik, slamming his locker to total silence. All the
guards watched as Malik quietly exited the room.

"In other words, kid..." said Peachtree, slapping Roberts on his
butt. "...keep your ass right where it is!"


Pt-6
	Malik felt restless for the rest of the evening. He did his rounds,
made reports, and ran bed checks before `lights out'. It was at that time
he made plans with inmate Marvin Rollins, to meet in the guard's sleeping
quarters for another late night rendezvous (as previously seen in pt-4 of
chap-7).

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor...?" asked Marvin, standing
between the bars of his cell. Malik felt his stomach churn.

"What kinda favor?" he asked, skeptically.

"Relax officer Malik..., ain't like I'm asking you to break me out of
prison, or to help me rob a bank or something!" sighed Marvin, noting
Malik's apprehension. Malik laughed nervously.

"Then what is it then?" he asked, curiously. Marvin looked around to make
sure no one was listening.

"I was talking to one of my boiz about you..., -Duke. He asked if I could
set up a lil' sumpthin sumpthin with you, me, and him. You interested?"
whispered Marvin.

"A 3some? With another inmate?" asked Malik, looking around. "I asked you
to be discreet about us!"

"I am! You think I wanna share my pussy?" asked Marvin, looking over his
shoulder to make sure his cellmate wasn't listening. "But Duke keeps
asking. He really wants to bag a guard! He's not gonna let up until we do
it!"

"What guarantee do I have that he won't go around bragging that he fucked
me? That could be my job!" whispered Malik.

"I'll make sure he keeps your name out of it!" assured Marvin. "C'mon
man..., for me?" asked Marvin, turning on the charm. "I'll make it up to
you, somehow. Besides..., Duke's a big fucker, like me! I bet you'll love
getting fucked by the 2 of us!"
	Malik thought about what Marvin offered. 2 of him...? Could he
handle it?

"What cell he in?" asked Malik.

"That's my baby!" smiled Marvin, knowing Malik was up for the challenge.

Continued...

____________________________________________________
Questions, comments, suggestions? NPhillydogg@aol.com