What Lies Behind

"You have no idea what I have seen, Travis. You come in here thinking you're a big shot, tough guy. You act like you're going to take the bosses down. You don't care if it's the cops or the inmates. You're just hell-bent on living your way, your rules, and god-damn everybody else."

"Then you come into this room where somebody's nice to you, and you don't know what to do about it. Believe me, buddy; he's seen it all before. He knows what you're doing, even if he don't know what you're doing. He may be a little slow on the uptake, but he ain't that slow. Let's say he likes to give everybody the benefit of the doubt. If you don't straighten up soon, Travis, you'll not like how he deals with guys like you."

"All you have to do is ask, Travis. Don't be such a fucking twat. You don't like asking for help because you think it makes you look weak. But you don't understand that screwing up all the time makes you weak. Asking for help is a demonstration of strength. Recognizing your limitations and seeking workable solutions with others aiding you are character strengths. You should try them. Otherwise, you'll be a punk-as* bi**h the rest of your life. And yeah, I know what that means in prison."

"You know what, Crete? You talk a lot for someone that exists at the mercy of contractors. All I gotta do is swing a sledgehammer, and you're history. Come to think of it, isn't your first name 'Con'? How funny is that? Hahahahaha...You're a wall in a prison, and your name is Con Crete?!"

"What could you possibly have seen from where you're standing, Con? Let's hear your horror stories." Travis was cocky, so I let him hear all I had.

"All right, Travis. Years ago, when you were no more than a glint in your father's eye, the students in this class got into a fight over who got to feed the fish. When security responded, the shattered aquarium lay on the floor, water everywhere. One of the students had another in a headlock and was holding a shard of broken glass to his throat, threatening to 'open him up' from ear to ear. Another student was swallowing the goldfish alive while two others puked, yet one more was masturbating openly at the chaos in the room."

"Eww? Masturbating? That's nasty. What happened to the one in the headlock?"

"The responding officers managed to get the hostage away safely, but the student with the glass cut himself open ear to ear and bled out, and died on the spot."

"What?? Why haven't I heard of this before? That would've been big news!"

"As I said, child, you weren't even conceived yet. Besides, that's not the kind of thing the department wants to be kicked around. They hushed it up."

"All right, Con, I'll accept that story, but so what? That's just one story. What else have you seen? I'm not going to break a glass fish aquarium and hold someone hostage, so that doesn't apply to me." Travis brushed the tale aside.

I squinted at him. "I think you're more scared than you want to admit, Travis, but fine, here's another one. Five years ago, they decided to allow the younger men to have an indoor campout. They used this room for it. They decorated the room to resemble the forest and even included glow-in-the-dark paint on the ceiling to mimic seeing the stars at night. They used props to imitate a campfire and created s'mores in a microwave. All 18 to 20 years old participants set up tents in the room and determined beforehand who would share a tent with whom. The pairings were checked by security and mental health staff, and no red flags arose, so the event went forward as planned."

"However, someone managed to bring alcohol to the campout, and several of the campers got drunk. When they went to their tents and crawled into their sleeping bags, some felt quite romantic, and before security realized what was happening, a quiet orgy had begun. Not to make light of the situation, but it was intense in tents. Only later did anyone realize that some female staff were involved, too."

"Damn, I missed that?? You know how long it's been since I got some, Con??"

"Travis, trust me. You don't want to 'get some' in here. Nobody's clean. Everyone has some disease or infection. This isn't the place for getting any. And I'm not the kind of wall that gives out, either." I laughed. "Shoot, I'm not even a bathroom wall." I laughed harder.

Travis shot me a glance. "No, I suppose you aren't that kind of wall. And since we've been talking, I'm not sure I'd want to have you touching me like that. Maybe it wouldn't be so awkward if I didn't know you, but..."

His voice trailed off in embarrassment. "You mean, you'd put yourself through another wall for pleasure, but not through me? I don't know if I'm relieved or insulted!" I laughed so hard my cinderblocks rattled. "Oh, stop blushing, for goodness' sake. I'm just teasing you. I don't think I'd want to see that much of you. Although... I do have a sense of taste. Why don't you shoot off on me? No one's going to see you, silly. You know you want to. I've seen you looking around the room when your pod mates are here, Travis. Do you know what I see you doing? Uh-huh. That's right. I see you are checking them out. When they wear shorts to class and drop your pen on the floor, I've seen how you try to sneak a peek. You're lucky they haven't noticed yet, Trav. They'll beat you to a pulp if they know you've been peeping at 'em. We don't want that, do we?"

"W-well, how w-would they know?" Travis stammered. "I'm not gonna tell 'em, that's for damn sure!"

I waited silently.

"Y-you'd tell 'em?? Why, you dirty, rotten, son-of-a-no-good-piece-of--"

"Shhh...now, Travy, baby. Don't get yourself all worked up over nothing," I soothed. "Come closer and lean against old Crete. Ohhh...yeah, baby, you're strong, all right. Now, slip out of that shirt and lemme see ... oh, yyeeaaaahhhhh....unhhhh....god..so damn hotttt....fuark yeahhh...my sap is starting to run now, Travy, you gotta lean on me again with those abs." I groaned and moaned with sensual pleasure as he pressed himself against my cinder. I could tell he was losing himself in the moment.

"Come to Crete, baby, yeah. If I had hands, Travy, I'd be holding you tight. I'd be pulling you in close by those fantastic buns, man. So tasty, so sweet; let's see those briefs, baby. Oh, slip off those briefs that are trapping them; they are so soft and pink. Ooh, somebody's happy there, Travis; lean in close and press against me some more. Unghhhh...gaaawwddd! Turn around and let me feel your precious cheeks, too, Travy. You're so kind to me, Trav!"

"Don't be shy, Travis. Go ahead. It's just us in here; no one's around. Ty's already feeling your joy; please share with me, too," I purred. He was close, I could see. A little more, and I'd have him, just like all the others.

What's that? Well, of course, I'm the instigator. Who's going to believe that walls talk? People slam into us and say, "Stupid wall." Or they nail things into us without considering how that makes us feel. Staples, tape, and saws for remodeling. We're burned, hammered, painted, and smothered in wallpaper paste. Look what they did at Fenway Park: covered the best wall ever in ridiculous advertisements--the wall that Carl Yastrzemski and Ted Williams played great careers in front of, smashing home runs over. Big Papi and Manny Ramirez were the two in 2004 that carried the BoSox to their first World Series victory in 86 years, and they hit bomb after bomb over that wall, and now it's covered in commercials. There's no respect for us walls.

And here in prison, it's even worse. These guys shit on us, piss on us, beat on us. They scream at us and curse us as if we're the ones that landed them here. We're just built here to keep them safe from communities that would do them harm for beating up their loved ones, selling their kids drugs that the kids overdosed on, molesting their children, raping their wives or daughters, burglarizing their stores and homes, drunk driving and killing their husbands, fathers, and sons. But no, we walls get the blame.

So, yeah. Every now and then, we get a little revenge. A bunch of brat teenagers fights over who gets the feed the fish. They act on a suggestion, the main perpetrator kills himself, and then they all calm the fuck down. Many years later, a group of young men gets to the campout indoors. Somehow, some beer makes its way in, the group gets drunk, an orgy begins, and the, er, brew-haha ends with a bunch of stereotypical males wondering if they're still stereotypical males and a group of female staff getting fired.

Now it's time for Travis to get over himself. I've been in a mood, and I'm tired of his arrogance. He's been checking out every guy his age in the building since the day he got here. He's even been looking at the younger cops and licking his lips. He's a slick operator, willing to take any comers if you catch my drift. But his nonsense will get my guy in trouble, and I don't want him in trouble. He's been good to me. He lets me see good stuff on the computer. He plays decent music. He washes me down. He takes good care of me and my room. I'm going to take care of this troublemaker, Travis, and then my guy will be safe.

"Travis, bubby, I see you've been pumping for a while now. What do you need to put you over the top?" I didn't offer any smooth talk this time.

The twenty-something was red-faced. "C'mon, Crete. Where's the romance you were talking about a few minutes ago?"

"Do you need some help, Travy?" I resumed my silky tone.

He panted again. "Just a little, Crete. Please?"

"Hmm. Who do you like? Tristan? Do you like him? Yeah? Oohh..he won't be happy to find that out, but okay." I hummed briefly.

"Tra-vis. This is Tri-stan!" I chanted in a sing-song voice. My target's cheeks shook and quivered. "Come, Tra-vis. Tri-stan is here. Do you want my a*s or my c**k, Tra-vis?" I was still doing the sing-song, but more sultry and silky. When I presented options about Tristan, it was clear that the second option was what Travis wanted. "Here it is, Travy! I'm here with my gravy! Clean me off!"

I had barely finished tempting him when I felt a hot splatter striking me. I looked down, and Travis was still erupting. His face was a mixture of satisfaction, terror, and disgust. Gotcha, I thought. No turning back now.

"Well, well, well. Look at the little pervert. How will you explain to 'the guys' why your semen is all over the classroom wall? I'm sure the officers will find your explanation interesting, too, Travis. I guess maybe you shouldn't have been such a -- hahahahahahahaha---dick--haha hahaha ---when you got here. Now you're going to have indecent behavior charges to answer for. What? You think they will believe that the wall talked to you?"