The man sighed, certainly not pleased at all. "My first assignment is collecting photos of this place?" He looked up at the tall building, his pulse rate beginning to increase slightly as his palms grew sweaty while holding his beloved camera. "What the hell…"
This had to be more than a coincidence. It was downright eerie, really. Never in a million years did Henry Townshend think that he would have to return to a place where he fought for his life every second, a place where he was just a pawn in a whole other big scheme. Henry frowned and shuddered again thinking about the whole ordeal. It was all so surreal, a realistic nightmare. The worst part about it was, if Henry were to tell anyone what had happened, no one would believe him, except Eileen of course. Eileen. If she hadn't of been with him when she did, Henry probably wouldn't know what he would do. Still, he felt bad for having her share the same fate as him. No one deserved that, not even Walter.
A plane hovered over the building, the sound causing Henry to jump slightly. His face grew a little red; how long had he been standing there and just staring? He looked around- no one seemed to be here but him, at least where he was at. After taking a deep breath, he made his way into the doors of the water prison. Everything with Walter Sullivan was over, Henry thought. There's no need to worry about being here again, right? Hand firmly gripped on the rusted handle, he pulled and let himself in.
After a long drag from his cigarette, the man scowled and said, "Fuck this. They don't pay me enough for this shit. What's the point of even coming here anyway?" Officer Sewell furiously flipped through the clipboard of disorganized papers, trying to find out what exactly he was supposed to do. He had remembered a superior telling him his job but the prison officer was too buzzed to remember. Hey, who could blame him? It was a slow day at the prison with nothing going on. There wasn't any harm having one or two drinks in his office every once in a while.
After the rustling of some papers, he quickly skimmed over a page, muttering, "Surveillance rooms in the center, eh?" He flipped through a few more pages. "Corpse disposal chutes… Shit we should get these back at Ryall. Be a lot less work to do, that's fer sure." He kept reading. "'Each floor of the building can be rotated independently'… So the others wouldn't notice." He let out a loud laugh. "Well shit! These fuckers were crafty. Maybe this won't be so bad." After taking a final puff of his cigarette, his spit the butt onto the ground and smashed it under his black shoes as he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to let himself in.
I really don't want to be here, Henry thought as he slowly stepped inside, gasping at the door closing softly behind him. He spun around, only to see the old door closed. He waited for a few seconds, just in case he was going to come through the door. He shook his head, trying not to break into a cold sweat. Walter Sullivan was gone and dead. He had to kill the man in order to save himself and Eileen. Walter's last moments played in Henry's head. While he was relieved for everything to be over, it was so sad to see Walter dying right in front of him. All to gain the love and warmth of his mother. Henry couldn't even imagine what that must of felt like. But then again, this same man put him through all kinds of danger and fears… something that would never leave him. Henry wasn't the same person after all of that. Not a minute would go by without Henry looking over his shoulder. He inhaled sharply, placing a firm grip on the camera. He was here to do a job. That's all he had to do. Just take some pictures and get the hell out. It shouldn't take too long. "Well, let's get started…"
Sewell's footsteps echoed as he confidently walked through the circular building. With a disgusted look on his face, he muttered "Piece of shit place," under his breath as he stopped at a cell door. He hadn't a clue as to why he stopped at this particular one. It felt as though something was calling him to it. Eyeing the door suspiciously, he peered through the bars but couldn't catch a good glimpse of the entire cell. Only one way to find out. He pulled the door open and let himself in.
With just about two footsteps Sewell was already in the center of the cell. They were definitely smaller than the ones at Ryall and more horrendous. He looked down at the cold hard floor, examining the huge bloodstains. A small wave of uneasiness came over him but he shook it off; he had seen worse. There wasn't much of a sight to see: blood on the floor, a stone seat to lay on, a small disgusting toilet, something written on the wall- "What's this?" he asked, walking up to the wall to get a better look. It was poorly written, barely legible in red "ink" but he was able to read it:
"I'm being watched from the middle room."
Sewell had forgotten that he read that in the report earlier. He looked over and up and saw the medium-sized hole that led to that middle room. He flipped through the pages; wasn't there a map or some sort of guidance page to this place? After his discovery, he frowned and made a grunt of annoyance. It was pretty fucking difficult to get there but perhaps it was necessary at the time? Fuck if he knew. But still… Sewell looked at the hole again. There was light on the other side. Maybe it was about time to check it out.
"Fuckin'…" Sewell spat out, making his way to the surveillance room. "That shit was ridiculous." He looked around. There wasn't much sightseeing: just a white room with a ladder, a wheel and holes to look into the cells. He walked around the circle but stopped, disappointed. There was nothing interesting at all. Reaching into his front pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slowly tapped the bottom to push one out. Putting it in his mouth, he grabbed the lighter and was about to light it when he snapped his head up. There was a noise, but what was it? Sewell waited in silence for a few seconds to see if anything else came up. Nothing. Shrugging, he lit his cigarette, the strong smoke going in all directions.
Henry walked slowly and quietly through the floor, his body sending out small trembles. A bead of sweat started to drop down on the side of his face as he saw the rest and blood come into focus on the camera as he snapped a photo. One down… a lot more photos to go. Henry sighed weakly, lifting the camera up. He was afraid to look at the preview screen. What if something were to just pop out at him while he was trying to take a picture? No stop that, Henry. Don't think like that. You're freaking yourself out. Everything is over. After a few more pictures of the halls, he turned to a door that led to one of the cells. Henry gulped. This was a requirement to have photos taken in the cells for this job. His heart raced again, staring at the rusted door with small bars for a teasing peek inside. There was no way in hell he wanted to look inside, but he had to. With a shaky hand, he reached for the door and pulled it open.
Nothing had changed, which made Henry feel sick to his stomach. He looked up at the bright light above. It felt strange to be right under it but he tried his best not to let it get to him. As he began to lift up his camera once more, there was a loud "WHAM" sound, causing his chest to tighten and turn back. The door had closed on its own. Henry held up a hand to the middle of his chest, his eyes watching the door and frozen in silence. Why had it done that? There was no possible way… He walked back to it and pulled the handle. All the colored had drained from his face.
The door was locked.
"No. No…" he said softly as he pulled on the handle harder. It wouldn't budge. Backing away, he said, "This can't be happening…" Then, something entirely different came into play. He lifted his head slightly and smelled the air. Was that smoke? The smell was getting stronger when he realized it was cigarette smoke. Someone was here! Henry went up to the hole in the wall but couldn't see anyone. "Uh, hello?" he called out, hoping to get a response.
Sewell grew stiff as he heard a timid voice. He turned around, but no one was there. He wasn't going crazy; he definitely heard someone talk. "Who's there?" he called out, looking through the holes to find the source.
Oh, thank goodness, someone was here! He needed to get out now. "Uhm, my name's Henry… and I'm stuck in one of these cells. Can you please let me out?" He sounded like an okay guy. Henry was going to get out of here soon and be done with this place once and for all. That's what he kept telling himself.
Bingo. There he was. Sewell stared at the man and smirked. He looked like a lost little puppy and had no idea what to do. He snickered quietly. Maybe I can have some fun before I leave here. "Well, I may be able to do something… if you do something for me."
The tone change in the other man's voice began to make Henry sick. Something definitely wasn't right. What was this 'something'? He didn't want to ask but Henry knew he had to. "What… exactly do you want from me? I don't have any money or anything."
"Ha! I don't want your money," Sewell shot back, taking a quick drag from his cigarette before flicking it on the ground and stomping on it. "You look like you're a good listener and can follow simple directions. Is that true?"
Where was this guy getting at? He wasn't making any sense at all. Henry really didn't want to interact with this man anymore but the door wasn't going to unlock itself. "Yeah but what does that have to do with anything?"
He smirked. This was going to be good. Sewell withdrew his gun from his hostel and cocked it, making sure Henry heard the noise. Putting the barrel slightly in the hole, he said, "Take off your shirt."
Henry jumped when he heard the sound of the gun. It reminded him of that man, Walter Sullivan. He was even more shocked of what he heard next. There was no way he said- Henry gasped when the other man from the other side repeated his words only this time, he sounded louder and angry. "… What? What do you mean?"
"You heard me. Don't be stupid. You heard my gun. It's pointed right at you. Now I'm going to say this one more time. Take off your shirt."
His entire body was shaking. This was really happening. He was going to get a bullet to the head if he did not comply with this stranger. Slowly and hesitantly, Henry began unbuttoning his shirt. Soon his shirt opened up, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. He slipped out of his sleeves and held the top shirt in his hand. He stayed quiet and stood still.
Sewell's face scrunched up in annoyance, aimed the gun and shot one bullet through the bars of the cell door. After Henry jumped and became scared shitless he stated loudly, "I said take off your shirt."
"I… I did..." Henry managed to respond, his heart racing from his near death. He turned toward the hole. "Are you crazy or something? Why are you doing this?"
"Because you were being a smart ass, and I hate smart asses. Drop that and take off your other one and drop that to the floor. Or do you want me to fire another bullet?"
"No! Just… give me a second." Henry's eyes began to well up with tears but he didn't want to cry, not in front of this guy anyway. He slowly grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands and lifted it off of him, giving Sewell full view of his bare chest. Looking away from the hole, Henry tossed his t-shirt aside and waited for further directions.
"We're on the same page. Good, for you." After a careful thought, "Why don't you give your nipples some attention while you take off those pants of yers. Underwear too."
Henry's face turned red as he stood there uncomfortably. He had no idea what this man looked like or who he was and he was stripping for him. His right hand made its way down to the seam of his pants as the left began to work with the soft tender flesh on his chest. "Nng…" Henry groaned softly as he began twisting his nipple. This was so humiliating and embarrassing but… at the same time it felt good. Nonono. Why is this happening? This can't-
As Henry unbuttoned his pants, he could feel a small bulge forming between his legs. Oh God, he was being turned on? That had to be impossible. This had to be a dream-
"Jesus, you're going to bore me to death. Get to it!" Henry looked up nervously and continued working as a faster pace. But… he didn't want this man to see his slowly growing erection. It would only give me more satisfaction. Henry's small moans began to grow a bit louder as his pants felt to his knees and the bulge began to grow. Henry squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the officer snicker at the new view of his underwear. His hand switched to the other nipple, the other one very content. Soft moans escaped once more but he cursed himself internally for letting it get out. He slowly pulled on his underwear and wiggled himself out, leaving him fully exposed.
"I think you know what to do, Henry."
He shuddered when he heard his name. Without even thinking, his hand above reached for his neck and began to caress it softly as the other eagerly brought the pads of his fingers to his growing erection. Letting out a heated breath, lips parted, he shuddered, pressing his hand harder as his mind filled with everything that has happened. He didn't want to do this but it just felt so good. It was so simple, so meaningless, why did it get him going like this?
Henry continued rubbing with his fingers, his hand still working slowly, dreadfully slowly. His hips involuntarily thrust forward, his hand beginning to pick up the pace. "Aah, aah…" He let out a soft groan, his other hand softly scratching his neck, upping his arousal. But yet, this didn't give himself the relief he so desperately desired.
More then eager moans escaped through pleasure-parted lips. Fingers lightly touched his sensitive arousal, teasing away at the flesh before taking a firm grip. Who knows how long Henry had been going at this, teasing and pumping his own erection; trying his best to suppress any noises of pleasure from reaching the ears of his keeper from above. Or at least he should have been above, watching the man work himself from the hole in the ceiling.
The socially awkward brunette was getting so caught up in his actions, hands feverishly working at bringing him closer to his much-needed climax. Henry wouldn't had any idea that Officer Sewell had long left his watching spot, until the click of his prison door opened and a tall figure walked right in, causing the lust filled man to stop.
"Don't stop now sweetheart." This man, who had held him up in the cell, forcing him give on a display was now getting rather too close for his comfort. Henry did as he was told though, continuing to slowly stroke at his exposed erection. He tried to keep up the pace, tried to end this embarrassing act as quickly as he could, but the cop kept moving closer. Eventually the rhythm stopped, feeling Sewell's cool leather cover hands run down his body, just stopping right above his swollen arousal.
"Did I say you could stop? Because I'm pretty damn sure I didn't." Sewell's hands began exploring Henry's body, moving down to his hips, then up to his neck. Henry wasn't sure when or where he was going to stop. A small quivering breath escaped Henry's lips as he continued stroking himself. Henry gasped and stopped as Sewell took him by the neck, a pressuring grip softly cutting his air supply slightly. Sewell's free hand grabbed Henry's wrist, disconnecting the contact between Henry's hand and his dick. With no warning, Sewell grabbed Henry's dick firmly, causing Henry to let out a moan that made the officer snicker. "You're so cute when you do that," he mocked at Henry, squeezing his way to the tip, the pre-cum getting all over his gloves. Sewell then backed away, avoiding all contact. "Go over there and put your hands against the wall. Now." He waited for Henry to be in position and he slowly moved toward him, the suspense killing Henry.
With the pre-cum on his glove, Sewell began to finger Henry's entrance as he forced his other hand into Henry's mouth. "Now don't you fucking bite me, sweetheart," he cooed, his fingers exploring the man's mouth. Henry tried to protest the foreign hand down south but Sewell managed to hold him against the wall; his physical power was greater than Henry's. "Now just relax," Sewell whispered into Henry's ear as he slowly put a finger into Henry's ass. Henry let out a muffled moan, the discomfort shocking him. Sewell's free hand came out of Henry's mouth, the spit dripping all over Henry's face and onto his chest. He slowly snaked his way down to Henry's throbbing erection and began to pump. He quickly looked at Henry's face that was red and sweating. This was a perfect time to put in another finger in his tight asshole.
"A-ah! Hey! Don't…" Henry managed to say, his head slightly turning, trying to catch the face of his keeper.
"Did I say turn around? No. You keep looking at the damn wall until I say otherwise." Sewell's commanding voice was enough for Henry to cower and obey. He tried to wiggle a second finger in but Henry was just being difficult. "Open up to me," he commanded, his voice cold and blunt. It had worked. With a smirk on his face, he began to slightly curl his fingers upward and began to thrust inside of him. After hearing Henry cry out, he let out a condescending laugh and said, "Yeah you like that, don't you? No use denying it, sweetheart." But he couldn't let Henry have all the fun. His hands broke all contact from Henry's body as he began to work on his own pants.
Henry only stood there nervously as he heard the sound of clothes being messed with and a zipper flying down. He wanted to say something but the pleasure he was getting was too much. Why did he have to like this? This wasn't even supposed to be happening. He was just minding his own business, taking some photos of the prison and- "Oh God!" Henry cried out as hands violently grabbed at his hips and something hot and large entered into him. Henry hissed, the pain almost becoming unbearable at first. Little groans escaped from his mouth as he leaned his forehead against the wall. His panting became heavier as the pain began to subside. He took one of his hands off the wall to aide his dick when…
Sewell quickly grabbed his hand and pressed it against the wall, a sound of pain escaping Henry's mouth. "Hey what did I just say? Don't move. I make the rules here, got it? Now hold still." Sewell's thrusts became deeper and faster, his climax approaching soon. To be the kind soul that he was, Sewell gripped Henry's dick and began to pump fast, enjoying the cries Henry was giving out.
Clinging desperately to what remained of his fragmented mind, the pleasure building, the sensation of pressure was becoming too much for Henry. He groaned out loud, quaking as he fought to hold on, just for a few moments more. He knew he wouldn't last long. After hearing Sewell grunt from the first time, Henry could feel something warm spill into him. He bit his lip, only just holding back the moan as Sewell coated his fingers, giving Henry a few more strokes in a vain attempt to milk it. Henry could feel Sewell pull out as his hand began to slow on Henry's exhausted cock.
Henry was gasping softly, breath struggling to enter his lungs, to return to normal, he left his eyes closed, processing what had just happened.
Sewell cleaned himself up and put his pants back on, checking his holster to make sure he had everything. Henry was still facing the wall with his hands on it. Good. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Henry," Sewell said charmingly, as he grabbed a set of keys and worked the door. After the squeak of the door opening, Sewell pulled it all the way open and just before he left he said, "You should probably get out of here. This place isn't safe. You never know what could happen." And on that note, Sewell walked out, whistling a tune, continuing his investigation.