By PrisonCub

How in the hell had I gotten here?

I was walking down a long, drab, institutional green hallway with a Sheriff’s Deputy holding each bicep with leather-gloved hand.  The Deputies were dressed in two shades of gray; light gray shirts and dark gray pants.  The patches on their arms indicated the County Sheriff’s Office where I lived.

The brass nametags were meticulously placed over the uniform shirt pockets and had first initial and last name.  The last names were common, local names that I recognized but I did not know these guys at all. I caught myself thinking that they each had defined chests and beautiful, muscled arms.

[[WARNING: This story contains extreme elements that some readers might find objectionable. Continue reading at your own risk.]]

“What the fuck?” I thought to myself.  I am being manhandled down a fucking hallway and obviously in trouble and yet the deputies were turning me on! “Focus, buddy! Focus!”

I glanced down just long enough to see that I was dressed in a slightly oversized black suit. It literally hung from my 5’11” frame. The fabric was obviously cheap and scratched my thighs and ass with each step.  I could feel that the collar button of the white shirt was buttoned around my neck, but I was not wearing a tie.  I assumed that I did not have on underwear.  My cock was starting to get erect and I wasn’t certain if it was the handcuffs, the Deputies or the suit fabric rubbing against me that was getting me fired up.

A leather restraint belt was buckled around my 34” waist over the top of the suit and handcuffs were connected to the belt with a chrome D-ring.  The handcuffs secured my wrists with my palms facing out.  A heavy chain dropped from the D-ring to the center of a 16-inch chain connecting a pair of leg cuffs.

The first Deputy barked, “Head up and quit looking around, inmate!” and gave a yank on my arm with his gloved hand.

I looked straight ahead as I was told.  My cock got a little harder.

We reached the end of the hallway, which widened into a small, windowless room.  The floor was painted gray concrete.   The only objects in the room were a concrete bench and a metal ring bolted to the floor. The walls were the same institutional green as the hallway.  A barred door was shut behind me, and the Deputies with a loud bang as we entered the room and I heard the distinct click of a lock.

The younger of the two deputies growled, “Face the wall and keep quiet, prisoner.”

I was turned and faced the wall.  The older deputy reached around under the suit jacket and unbuttoned the waist and fly buttons of the pants.  The pants promptly fell down to the floor completely exposing me.

“Bend over, inmate.”

I complied as well as I could.  I felt cold metal against my butt hole and I jumped from the unexpected feeling.

“This shouldn’t be an unusual feeling for a fag boy like you,” the older Deputy said.

Abruptly the ice-cold metal object was completely up my ass.  I started to protest but a gloved hand was placed over my mouth.  The older Deputy whispered in my ear, “Not even any foreplay for you, pretty boy.”

A leather belt was brought up between my legs and another belt secured around my waist.  The two belts were obviously designed to work together, and very quickly they had both been connected and tightened effectively securing the metal butt plug deep inside of me.

“Turn around, boy,” barked the younger deputy.

I turned and faced both guards.  A black plastic box the size of a pager was strapped to my thigh.  A wire coming from the bottom of the butt plug and through the leather harness was inserted into the top of the box.

My now rock hard cock was pointing straight out and throbbing with every heartbeat!  It pointed directly toward the Deputies and they both laughed.

“I can’t have that when you are in court, now can I.  Besides, I can’t get your pants back on,” said the older Deputy.

Before I could say anything, he  reached in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a garage door remote.  The last thing I remember was his finger pressing the red button on the remote.  I felt something like flames shoot through my intestines and every muscle in my body was instantly on fire.  The pain pulsed through every tissue in my body and my bones felt like they were being crushed.  I could not move much less scream.  When the pain stopped I was lying on the cold concrete floor.  Gloved hands grabbed me and stood me up.  My cock was completely flaccid, but I felt it stir again as the Deputy pulled up my pants, buttoned the fly and waist buttons and tucked in my shirt.

The oldest guard now spoke directly to me. “You are now prepped and ready for court.  The jury has informed Judge Doran that they have reached a verdict in your case.  Your chains will be removed now before you enter the courtroom. Apparently your smart-ass attorney does not want you looking guilty before the verdict is announced.  I personally think that is a bunch of fucking bullshit!  You are a security risk to everyone in that courtroom.  But, that plug up your ass is designed to keep you from fucking up in court.  If you attempt to escape, I will zap the shit out of you.  If you react in a negative way to the verdict, you will be zapped.  If you speak without permission, you will be zapped.  Fuck if you twist wrong in your chair I will let you have it.  The shock can be delivered remotely from a distance of 75 feet.  Trust me when I tell you, I have no problem zapping you in court!  In the unlikely event that you are found innocent, you will stand still.  We will temporarily disable the device from your leg and you will be a free man.  You can keep the butt plug as a souvenir!  However, the more likely scenario is that you will be found guilty.  At that moment, you will be known as convict and addressed as convict until your permanent prison number can be assigned to you.  You will follow our orders precisely or you will find yourself zapped.  Any questions, boy?”

Before I had a chance to say anything, the handcuffs and leg irons were removed.  The leather restraint belt with the D ring was unbuckled and removed.  I rubbed my reddened wrists, smoothed out my suit pants as they draped across my ass and ran my hands through my dark brown hair.  The door suddenly opened to the brightly lit courtroom and I was escorted over to the large, oak defendant’s table.  I must have walked like I had ridden a horse to court.  The butt plug and belt made walking ridiculous.  I sat down in the wooden chair and the butt plug was shoved into an even more unpleasant position in my ass.

I had no more than sat down when the bailiff called out, “all rise.”  The man sitting next to me was apparently my attorney and touched my shoulder indicating that I should stand.   My attorney looked like Tom Hanks.  He stood next to me like we were best friends having a drink.  All I could think of was how unpleasant it was to stand up and sit down with that metal plug shoved up my ass!  A door across the room opened abruptly and the jurors began to file into the courtroom.  I counted 7 women and 5 men as they slowly walked into the juror’s box.  Two made eye contact with me while the others looked either straight forward or away.

When they were all seated, the judge asked, “Madam Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict in this case?”

“Yes Sir we have,” said the pretty lady in the first front seat.

The bailiff walked over to her and took a slip of paper from her hand.  He walked it over to the Judge and handed it to him.  The Judge opened the paper, smirked as he read it to himself and then handed it back to the bailiff.  “The defendant will rise and face the jury of his peers.”

Once again the gentle hand on my shoulder and the attorney and I stood up.

“You may publish the verdict, bailiff,” the Judge said.

I could feel a trickle of sweat run down between my shoulder blades and back to the crack of my ass. My left knee was shaking uncontrollably.  The muscles of my ass were in spasm from the butt plug.  The Velcro strap holding the battery for the butt plug was pulling at the hair on my thighs and once again my cock was getting hard.  The two Deputies had quietly walked over behind me and were just standing there with their hands clasped in front of them.  The white collar of my shirt was soaked with perspiration, and I noticed I was uncontrollably grinding my teeth.  I could hear every heartbeat in my ears.

The bailiff began to speak, “We the jury in the above entitled action Case #13-114-CM-04 the State vs Jackson Wade Caruthers find the named defendant guilty of the charge of Capital Murder.  We additionally find him guilty of the lesser included charges of Domestic Battery, Battery with a Deadly Weapon and Rape.  We find no mitigating factors which would warrant a recommendation of mercy.”

I immediately felt movement behind me and my hands were pulled and cuffed behind my back.  I was pushed back into the chair.  The fucking metal butt plug settled deeply into my ass.  I heard my lawyer ask for the jury to be polled.  I heard the judge affirm the verdict.  People in the audience were talking in hushed whispers.  I was waiting for the deputies to lead me out of the courtroom when I heard the Judge say in a stern voice, “the convict will rise for sentencing.”

“What?” I said out loud. “How can you find me guilty of a crime I don’t even remember?  What sort of a bullshit kangaroo court is this?  You don’t sentence someone on the day the verdict is read.  You can all go fuck yourselves!  I want to know what sort of bullshit is going on here and …”

The shock hit me.  It was much stronger than the one delivered in the anteroom of the court.  I collapsed to the floor instantly with pain shooting from my ass up my backbone.  My head felt like it would explode.

“On your feet, convict!” the judge ordered. The Deputies who once again had a gloved hand on each bicep forced me to my feet.  “Jackson Wade Caruthers, you have been found guilty of the Capital Murder of Jonathan Michael Sampson, your domestic partner. The murder was committed during a domestic assault and in the presence of witnesses.  You have been uncooperative with investigators, attempted escape from custody and have been recalcitrant with your guards.  There is nothing in the record indicating remorse for this crime or admission of guilt.  Therefore, it is the order and judgment of this court that you be remanded to the custody of the Department of Corrections and the current and any succeeding Wardens of the State Penitentiary.  You are to be confined on Death Row of said prison until such time as you will be hanged by the neck until you are dead.  Should the penalty of death be rescinded by the legislature or Governor of this state, I further order that your sentence be immediately and irrevocably modified to confinement for the remainder of your life at hard labor without benefit of reprieve or parole.”

The gavel hit the wood of the judge’s podium.

“Take that filth from my courtroom.”

The two Deputies dragged me back to the door and into the windowless room that I had come from just minutes before.  The mood of the two Deputies, which was terrifying before, had changed completely now.  I was not asked or told to do anything.  The restraint belt and chains were replaced just as they had been before court.  I was shoved onto the concrete bench and my leg irons were padlocked to the metal ring bolted to the concrete floor.  Everyone left the room and I was alone.

My ass ached from the two shocks.  I could hear every heartbeat distinctly in my ears.  My head was spinning and I felt I was dreaming.  The wool of the cheap suit was making my forearms itch.  I was completely immobilized.  The door suddenly opened and a man walked into the room.  I shouldn’t say walked, but rather he strolled into the room.  His brown hair was slightly graying at the temples.  He had chiseled facial features and God help me the most gorgeous ass I had seen in a while.  His suit was clearly of the best fabric and obviously bespoke.  He sat down next to me on the concrete bench as if we were meeting each other in a park and then smiled a sick and depraved smile.

“Convict?”  He said in an accent that immediately indicated an Ivy League education.  “You don’t know me but my name is J. Michael Sampson V.  I am, or was, Jonathan’s father.”

“Fuck me,” I thought.  That is the guy I supposedly killed.  And this is his dad?  As stupid as it seems, I tried to pull away.  The restraints held me completely in place.   Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead.

“Sir, I don’t know what to…”  Mr. Sampson cut me off.

“In as much as I am enjoying your obvious discomfort, this is the first and last time we will ever meet.  I will be there of course on the day they slip the braided hemp rope around your neck and hang you.  Trust me, I will be there to watch.  It isn’t bad enough that you made my son an object of your faggot ways.  I cannot begin to imagine the twisted queer acts you performed on him.  But you killed him and brought shame to my family.  I intend to see to it that every day in your death row cage is hell.  I want the appeals to take a long time, convict.  And I will have a report every day of your suffering.”

He reached into his pocket and brought out the butt plug remote.  I felt the surge of electricity and then everything went dark.

 

JAIL

 

I woke up to find myself naked in a cell.  Glancing around, it was clear that it was a high security cell.  The walls and ceiling were lined with sheets of metal.  Bolts followed the metal seams to secure them.  Everything was painted battleship gray from the floor to the ceiling.  Paint was peeling here and there and rust was showing through.  I guessed that the cell was 5 feet wide and about eight feet deep.  The ceiling was about 7 feet high.  I was lying on a cot that hung from the wall by chains, the mattress was only a few inches thick and was covered in filthy ticking stripe cotton.  The smell was unimaginable!

I stood up to get a better look around.  Light came from a single, low watt bulb that was mounted inside a niche in the wall.  Steel mesh covered the niche completely and the bulb was inaccessible.  The toilet and sink were also metal with a button mounted into the wall above the toilet.  There was also a button above the sink next to a piece of polished metal that acted as a mirror.  It too was bolted to the wall.  I could see no toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, deodorant or toothbrush.  There was no pillow or blanket.  The wall facing the corridor was completely made of heavy metal bars.  There was a 3 x 15 inch opening in the bars with a small, corroded shelf.  I was guessing this was either a food port or something.  Outside the bars was a corridor with no windows.  Everything was completely quiet.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror.  My hair was longer than normal and completely uncombed.  I had stubble from about two days on my face.  My teeth felt dirty and I could detect the musky smell of my crotch and underarms from not taking a shower.  The butt plug and all of the restraints were now gone.  The temperature in the cell was quite cool and I had goose bumps all over.  I walked over to the barred cell door, shook it hard and yelled out for a guard.  The sound pierced the quiet and echoed down the corridor.

No one responded so I walked over and pissed into the toilet. I shook the piss off of my cock and gave it a little rub.  Nothing stirred.  I pushed the button above the toilet and nothing happened.  I pushed the button above the sink and ice cold water sprayed out of the faucet as long as I held the button.  The ice cold droplets of water hit my body and made me even colder.  I had a choice of my feet freezing on the concrete floor or sitting on the filthy mattress.  I choose to sit in the filth of God knows how many other inmates.

I must have dozed off because I awoke to the sound of a door opening down the corridor.  I walked up to the bars of my cell and a guard appeared.   He had sandy blond hair that was cut in a flat top.  He wore the same uniform as the Deputies in the courtroom.  He was fucking built like a Nordic God.  My cock started to come to life.

“Listen, boy,” he said in a soft voice.  “I ain’t too bright, but I know when a guy is getting a hard on for me and it ain’t happening.  So just get over your queer shit and listen to me.  He pushed a pair of fisher stripe denim coveralls through the bars.  They looked like the kind of thing that a train engineer would wear.  “Put them on and knock off the queer shit, convict.”

With that, he turned around and left me.  The coveralls were faded from being washed over and over.  Faded lettering on the leg said  I N M A T E.  I saw signs of faded stains by the fly and the ass.  The coveralls were stiff with starch and ironing and smelled of soap and bleach.  On the back, more faded lettering said C O U N T Y    J A I L.  Hand written on the collar was XXL .  I pulled the coveralls on and they buttoned up with old fashioned metal buttons.  It was nice to have on something, but the stiffness of the starched denim was rubbing my cock just enough to get me horny.

I laid down on the cot and drifted off toward sleep.  I gently massaged my cock with the fabric of the jail coveralls and wondered how many other men had done the same thing laying on this cot.  My cock swelled and throbbed.  I started to thrust my pelvis against the pressure of my hand.  I was brought out of my pleasure by the voice of my jailer.

“Goddamit knock that off, you piece of shit animal!  Sit up and take your fucking food convict.”

I looked over to see a metal tray sitting on the shelf of the barred door.  It had a lump of some type of meat and vegetable combination in the middle of the tray and a metal cup filled with water.

“You can take that away, I can’t eat that,” I said.

“If you don’t eat it, we save it until tomorrow and the day after and the day after until you do eat.  And don’t ask me about utensils.  You don’t get any.  Now eat, shithead!”

I picked up a piece of the “food” and ate two bites.  I made it to the toilet in time to puke what little was in my stomach into the toilet.  I sat down on the edge of the cot in a cold sweat.  The guard just laughed and took the tray away.  The light in my cell abruptly went out and a buzzer sounded and echoed down the hallway.  A voice on the public address system said two words, “sleep time!”

This went on for what seemed like days.  I did not leave my cell.  No clean change of clothes, no toilet paper, no soap.  An endless string of buzzers, lumps of inedible food, water in a metal cup and restless sleep.  The coveralls were becoming very loose on my body as I lost muscle mass.  My face appeared thin and my stubble was getting longer.  My hair was filthy, and the musky smell from my crotch and pits was starting to even offend me.

I had fallen into a restless sleep when I heard a voice say, “on your feet, convict!”

I opened my eyes and saw no one.  The voice then said, “ strip off those coveralls and place them on the cot.”

I complied.

“Turn and face the back wall of your cell and place your hands on top of you head.”

Suddenly a blast of ice cold water hit me and shoved me against the wall.  I was blinded by the water and the overwhelming smell of disinfectant.  It seemed to go on forever.  It ended as abruptly as it started with only the sound of water dribbling down a floor drain to keep me company.  I stood up and paced the cell to keep warm.  I never did see the person who “disinfected” me.

Not a fucking towel or deodorant in sight.  No shoes.  No underwear.  The coveralls still stunk from my wearing them for days.

“A lot of mother fucking good your little shower did.  How about some clean clothes?  How about some shoes, you pricks?”  I put the coveralls back on and buttoned them up.  The denim stuck to my still damp skin.  I thought that the disinfectant on my skin was covering up the smell of the unwashed coverall denim.  I sat down on the cot and leaned against the metal wall of the cell.

I heard a sound in the corridor and the door to my cell slid open.  It was four fucking hairy bastards dressed in what looked like black riot gear.

The lead guy was the only one who spoke. “You will stand up and face away from you cell door.  You will not speak.  You will do exactly as instructed or you will be punished.  We are the transfer team for the State Department of Corrections.  We have handled thousands of convicts like you.  There is no escape. You are nothing but a piece of property owned by the State. You have no option but to comply. Do you understand?”

I managed to say, “yes.”

“Take exactly 10 steps backwards convict.”  I complied.  “Place your hands on your head with your palms facing up and interlock your fingers.”  I complied.  “Spread your feet apart and remain still.” I felt my hands each being pulled behind my back and secured in handcuffs.

“This is one dirty, stinky mother fucking convict.  Warden won’t like him stinking up our bus.”

“Convict, you are one nasty son of a bitch.  We are gonna get you looking like the state owned piece of property you are and get you transferred to death row.  You are going to feel a pinch in your butt cheek.”

I felt the shaft of a needle bury itself in my ass muscle and then lights out.

 

DOC TRANSFER

 

I woke up to a whole new world.  I could tell that my body had been physically scrubbed and disinfected.  My skin was bright red and I smelled like a bottle of Lysol had been poured over me.  My face was clean shaven with a couple of painful razor nicks.  My head had been shaved completely.  My butt felt violated.  I was naked and lying on a lime green plastic mattress with bright fluorescent light coming from a fixture 10 feet up on the ceiling.  My cell was a concrete bunker with no windows, a solid metal door, a metal cot and a metal sink/toil combination.  A monitor camera was pointed at me from the ceiling.  A metal tray with a cup of grape Kool-Aid, a bologna sandwich, a bag of potato chips and a piece of vanilla cake sat on the floor.  A flexible, orange plastic spoon/fork combination sat haphazardly on the tray.  A roll of toilet paper was on the floor next to the toilet and a baggie with soap, an institutional toothbrush, tooth powder and deodorant powder was in the sink.

“It’s the fucking Ritz Carleton,” was the only thing I could quietly say out loud.

I gobbled down the food.  I brushed my teeth!  I used the toilet and wiped my ass for the first time in ages.  I sat down on the plastic mattress and it started to stick to my bare butt.

“Hey, what about something to wear?” I shouted.  Nothing.  I curled up on the mattress and muttered to myself, “whatever.”

I woke up to an electronic voice again.

“Convict will stand in the center of the cell.  Convict will spread his legs shoulder width apart.  Convict will lift his scrotum.”  I did.  “Now his penis.  Bend over at the waist and spread you buttocks apart.  Cough three times.  Return to the standing position.  Raise your arms above your head.  Lift your left foot.  OK.  Lift your right foot.  OK.   Interlock your fingers and place your hands on your shaved head.  You have been disinfected.  Your head has been shaved per regulation.  You have received a medical examination including a body cavity search and an enema.  Do not move.”

The door opened behind me and then closed again.  I did not move.  The voice said, “A regulation state transfer uniform has been placed in your cell.  Dress immediately in ALL of the items placed in your cell and then return to a position standing in the middle of your cell.  You have three minutes.”

I turned around to see a stack of institutional appearing clothing laying on the floor.  It was all blue denim.  It was brand new, stiff, thick denim.  It was clearly the cheapest, strongest denim the state could buy.  All of the fold lines were still obvious as I shook out the various articles of clothing and it all smelled of preservative.  And I was given underwear!  Honest to God fucking underwear!    Every single item had DOC TRANSFER stenciled in black or white on it.  I didn’t care.

I pulled on the stiff white boxers and t-shirt.  Each had DOC TRANSFER stenciled in black on the back and front.  The white underwear fabric was thicker than normal and somewhat crudely sewn.  I pulled white crew socks, which were even stenciled on the bottom!  Then came the stiff denim prison pants.  They only three belt loops and had unfinished hems.  I rolled up the cuffs and caught myself wondering why they would put belt loops on pants and not give me a stupid belt?  Five plastic buttons secured a button fly and waist.  They had no front pockets and only a single back pocket.   A long sleeved chambray shirt was next which I buttoned on.  I rolled up the long sleeves and briefly thought to myself that the shirt only had one chest pocket.  A black leather pair of prison boots with no laces went on my feet next.  True to form, the soles of the boots had STATE DOC embossed on the plastic soles.  The pile now consisted of a denim chore coat lined with gray blanket fabric and a cadet cap made of the same stiff denim.  I put those on the cot and stood in the middle of the cell.

The voice came on the speaker. “You are obviously not good at following directions.  This is the last time you will be instructed.  Tuck in your shirt.  Roll down and button your cuffs.  Button your shirt collar.  Put on your coat and button it up to but not the neck button.  Place the denim cap on your head.  Stand in the middle of the cell with your hands at your sides.  DO NOT MOVE.”

I heard the cell door open.  A voice from behind me said, “Looks like a condemned man right out of the movies.  I just love taking these boys to die!”

The denim cap was removed from my shaved head and a hood made of black twill was quickly pulled down to my neck from behind.  It scared the shit out of me and I started to struggle.

“Don’t worry, dumb ass, we aren’t going to hang you today,” came a voice from behind me.

I felt my hands cuffed behind my back and leg irons placed on my ankles over the boots.  Leather mitts were placed over my hands and secured.  A chain was looped through the empty belt loops of my prison pants and padlocked. The cuffs secured to the chain.  At least now I know what the belt loops on the pants are for, I thought.  Clever fuckers!  A belt was secured around the bottom of the black hood over my head and pulled tight.

“Move.”

I was forced out of the cell.  We walked quickly down a corridor and I felt a blast of cold air.  The last time I was outside I remembered it was warm.  The seasons had changed.  Holy fuck, this was really happening.  I felt myself being helped into a vehicle of some kind. The door in front of me sounded like it slid to the side, so it must be a van.  I sat down on the ice cold plastic seat.  A seat belt was put around me.  The chain from the leg irons was secured to something on the floor.  Someone sat down next to me and said, “All set.”  The door to the vehicle slid closed and locked.  I heard another voice talk into a radio and say, “Unit T54 10-76 from State Holding Facility to State Penitentiary, Death Row transfer, 1 male convict secure. 1 driver, 3 corrections officers on board.”

The vehicle began to move.  The man sitting next to me put his hand on the stiff denim crotch of my prison pants.  He unbuttoned the four buttons of the fly leaving the waist buttoned.  He pushed the new white boxers to the side and gave my cock and balls a painful squeeze.

“You are mine now, convict!” was all he said.

He buttoned my fly back up and gave my crotch a pat.   The rest of the transport was silent.

 

DEATH ROW

 

I was awakened from a sound sleep with a slap on the back of the head.

“Wake up, convict!”  The man sitting next to me was obviously annoyed that I had fallen asleep.  “Time to take your one look at the State Penitentiary.”

The belt holding the hood on my head was released and the black bag removed.  The denim cap was put back on my shaved head and I looked over at the man who had sat next to me during the transport.  He was about 35 years old, clean shaven with brown hair.  He was wearing a khaki prison guard uniform.  He had on a state trooper style hat and a baton was hooked to his duty belt.

The prison itself was gray granite and looked like a castle.  Dark, barred windows and turrets were everywhere.  A huge wall surrounded most of it topped with razor wire. I was distracted from looking at the imposing structure because the guard was rubbing my crotch with his baton.  We pulled up to a chain link sally port gate.

“Death row transport 10-23” was acknowledged by 10-4.  The gates opened and the van drove into the sally port.  I tried to turn and look at the gate, but the guard next to me snarled, “Eyes forward, that gate is the least of your problems, boy!”

I noticed guards held high powered rifles and were lining the catwalk above the sally port.  They were all pointed at me!  Fuck!

The door to the prison transport vehicle opened and two new guards were standing outside.

“Jackson Wade Caruthers?”

I answered “yes.”

A baton came crashing down on my shoulder blades and I lurched forward in the seat.  “You say nothing, convict.  That was a question directed at me,” responded the guard next to me.

I sat quietly in pain.

The guard got out of the van and began to speak to the other officers.  “Jackson Wade Caruthers convicted of capital murder and sentenced to death by hanging, correct?”

The guard knodded.  “He has been assigned to Cellblock 3A.  His number is X97478.”

The guard turned to the driver and two other men in the van and ordered them to release me from the van.  The leg irons were padlocked to a steel loop on the floor of the van The padlock and seatbelt were removed.  I was dragged out of the vehicle.

“You are now X97478.  You will be addressed as X97478 for the brief remainder of your miserable life.   You are the 97,478th convict to be incarcerated at this institution since it’s establishment in 1823.  The X stands for Execution.  The name you had outside of these gates no longer means shit.  You are a convicted murderer confined to a State Penitentiary.  There is no lower form of human life.  You will do only what you are told.  You are nothing.”

The baton was placed in the small of my back and I was led through a steel door into a gray room lined with small cells.  The door behind me slammed shut. I was pushed into one of the chain link cells and the door was padlocked shut.  I sat down on the small metal shelf.  My heart was pounding in anticipation of what would happen next.  Not out of excitement, but rather terror.

 

To be continued …