Date: Sat, 3 Mar 2012 01:13:20 -0800 (PST)
From: derk140@yahoo.com
Subject: The Light/part 1                            Gay/sf-fantasy

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictious.
Any similarities to real persons, living or dead is coincidental are not
intended buy the Author. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the
permission of the Author.

This is the first time I upload a story here, you can send
any comments, feedback or suggestion to this e-mails: derk140@yahoo.com

The Light
Part 1

I looked walked to the giant locked steel prison door and waited for the
guard to buzz me in, for what seemed like the hundredth time. As I made my
way to the front desk the busty milk chocolate toned guard called me by
name and proceeded with her usual line of questioning.

                "Jessie, when you gonna cut that hair you look like a
hippie?" I made grumbled under my breath to her words.

                "Never Shirley and it's only to my ears no major concerns."
She looked down, while handing me the sign in sheet.

                "Well go on cutie, and oooh that running is really giving
you a nice ass in them jeans" That was a new one that warranted new looks,
but I could only muster shock.

                I continued in holding my face down pretending to whip
something off my purple shirt trying to hide the redness of my cheeks. As I
walked down the winding hallway and saw a mirror hinging in front of a cup
of combs `conjugal visits' was the only though that crossed my mind.

                I looked at myself pushed my black hair out of my hazel
eyes the only feature that I got from my mom besides my olive
skin. Everytime I look into them I just remember her and the way she walked
so gracefully. I noticed tear in my eyes and whipped them away. I looked at
the small wet spot on my shirt and though back to Shirley's comment and
thought of my body. I wasn't too bad for a 17 year old boy all that running
had given me great muscles definition, a toned set of abs and pecs and at a
whopping 5 foot 11 pretty good height. Plus a dicks that hung like a banana
down my legs.  So I thought I was pretty well off.

                I came out of my fantasy world when I felt my phone vibrate
and saw the text message from my dad. Knowing was this was his only way to
track me.  I quickly made my way to the guard's station, I remember being
able to go home after school, got some homework help from my mom and wait
for my dad to come home. But when I came out a year before I lost my mom
and everyone at school found out and I got jumped on the walk home from the
bus stop 2 short blocks from my house. Well let's just say my parents
freaked. Originally my mom would just walk up the street and walk home with
me.

But since I lost her, I have to report to the prison 20 miles from home so
he can keep a watchful eye on me.

Finally I made it to the guard station, the large rooms was filled with
computer monitor. My large intimidating ex-military crew cut sporting
father, with a body as solid as marble and slightly tanned skin. Along one
of the fellow guards named James who actually was a nice guy. I looked to
the beige walls and the small brown worn-out couch the only non beige thing
between the ceiling and the floor.

My father looked to me and I got caught in his black gaze I always feel
like I'm falling in a dark pit when he gives me that look. My only relief
came when his partner James called his and he looked at me with his ocean
blue eyes, he was a dream. Being 6"1', bronze skinned, and muscle that
bulge whenever he moved how could he not be. I began on the task at hand,
the 60 pages I had to read in a few days. I sat there for what felt like
forever as the story seemed to dredge on The Divine Comedy not exactly a
light read.

I looked up at the monitors and saw something out of the corner of my eye
on the monitor while my dad and James cared on about the politics whether
the real world, or just the prison ones.

Normally I would have just sat quietly waited for them to have noticed the
small fight which seemed to be expanding in ferocity and number. But call
it boredom messing with my mind I told my dad and James what I saw.

"Hey you guys was there a rule change, cause if not I think you got a riot
on your hands." In a flash their eyes began scanning the screen s trying to
find the disturbance. Finally zeroing in on the problem the grabbed their
walkie-talkie's and said something in code to everyone in the
build. Suddenly the alarm went off and they both rushed out of the door. My
father not even bothering with his usual stay in the room speech it was
tired and I'm glad he forgot.

I walked over to the computer monitors and got to see the only
entertainment I would get until I got home. My eyes were glued to the
screen, when I started to get a slight pounding in my head `stupid book,
reading that book always gives me a head ache' and I thought nothing of it.

"Man I wish I had some popcorn" The words came out just as one of the
prisoners elbowed one of the guards and he made a break for it. `Now
where's he going' I thought to myself as I heard footsteps down the
hall. But everyone was in the riot so I figured it was just a guard late to
get down there. But the steps seemed to be getting closer, and louder I
walked over to the door to look through the small glass and metal framed
window to look out. I saw nothing. But just as I was about to turn back the
color orange caught my attention and I looked down to see and orange shirt
on the ground like the prisoners wear. I stepped back in fear knowing one
of two things either someone really was looking to escape in which case I
would be safe. Or they were looking to find a plaything. Luckily my dad
locked the door, when suddenly I remembered he had forgotten to give me his
speech and if he had forgotten that then...

The final word was interrupted by a loud thud at the door; my body seemed
too moved on its own backing away from the door at it swung open the poor
thing nearly coming off its hinges. In walked the man I knew to be a
vicious rapist, the way my father had always talked about him he was a man
beyond the grace of redemption and destined for the malevolent arms of
hell. He stood in the door frame tattoos running up both his arm and over
his exposed chest. His face scruffy and a small scar hung over the left
side of his lip. His caramel skin seemed to be giving off pulses of lust.
His gray eyes almost seemed to glow as they looked over every inch of me. I
felt like my soul was being raped `hopefully it stops with the look' as the
though passed through my mind I remembered who he was and knew the look was
only the beginning.