In this instance, Buck couldn’t ask himself how he had gotten in this situation. He knew. When he came to this country he knew he was stepping into risky business. Any get-rich-quick scheme had its risks, but getting into the drug trade was almost begging for trouble. And when you were a foreigner becoming part of an established illegal enterprise, well, what could you expect?
But he was in his late thirties and had nothing to show for all his labors. He had thought he could move up in the ranks quickly, and who knew how high, but so far he had only succeeded in being a trusted mule, moving drugs across national borders. And then he got busted, and here he was in this hell-hole of a Latin-American prison.
Shit, it didn’t even qualify as a prison. It was just a small rural jail, but it seemed as far as he was going. He’d been in here for seven months, and no one even knew he was here. He could rot in here and no one would know or care. What he didn’t know was this jail was controlled by a rival drug operation.
Buck was a big rugged man. He could have been a north-woods hunter or logger. He could have been a buffalo wrangler. He could have been an enforcer. He was good looking, if you found the papa-bear type sexy. He had married once, but she couldn’t take his machismo attitude and split. Since then, a lot of women were willing to fill his rampant sexual needs so he hadn’t found it necessary to get tied down.
Buck wasn’t an ideal prisoner. He resented being there, and he reacted by lashing out at anyone within his presence. There was always a guard on duty, and he directed his verbal abuse at them. The nighttime guard was a particular target of his vituperations, even though he knew the guard didn’t understand any English. He was sure he understood the anger with which they were thrown, and he could tell the guard was intimidated despite his having a weapon.
There was a light burning outside the bars of his cell twenty-fours a day, and the only escape from the light was in the bottom bunk of the bed. Since he was alone in the cell, he could sequester himself there, but the constant light only added to his anger. Day was no different than night. The only way he could tell the difference was by the light in the slit of a window high up on the wall, and that the morning meal was a kind of gruel and the evening one was bread and beans.
And then one night the usual guard wasn’t there. The new one seemed twice his size. He had bulging muscles and was obviously strong and not to be fucked with. When a youth, he’d had a cute baby-face, but although the features were the same, that face was hardened and corrupt. It had been corrupted by an innate perversion and a propensity for evil.
Buck watched him remove his gun, and then his shirt, revealing a light tan body with a smooth hairless chest. His arms were massive and though covered by his pants you could tell he had sturdy legs. Buck watched him lay his shirt and gun belt on the chair. He had no idea what was happening.
The guard then came to the door of the cell, unlocked and opened it and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Buck was standing with his back to the bunk bed. The guard walked up to him holding his baton with a hand at each end. He suddenly lifted it and pressed it against Buck’s throat, pinning him against the bed. He didn’t push it hard enough to cut off Buck’s breathing, but hard enough he couldn’t struggle without losing his ability to breathe.
The guard then started trying to lick Buck’s face, swiping his tongue over his cheek. Buck managed to jerk his head away just enough that only the tip of the guard’s tongue came into contact with his flesh, but he kept doing it and each time Buck evaded his tongue. It seemed he was playing some kind of game, trying to score.
After six or eight attempts he succeeded, licking one of Buck’s cheeks from his jaw to the outer corner of his eye. Buck cut his eyes to the side and saw the Guard’s face was creased with a malevolent smile. Buck was able to turn his head and thought to disconcert the guard by quickly kissing him on the lips. To his consternation, the guard didn’t seem fazed by the kiss.
The guard let the baton drop from Buck’s throat, but placed his hand on the back of Buck’s neck and forcefully pushed down. Buck resisted, but he wasn’t equal to the guard’s strength. The guard grabbed one end of the cord that held Buck’s jail-issued pants tied around his waist and roughly pulled, untying his pants so they fell to his ankles, leaving him fully exposed. The guard then jabbed him in the stomach with the baton and Buck’s legs gave way so that he fell to his knees.
The guard grabbed the back of Buck’s head and ground his face in his crotch. Through the pants’ material Buck could feel the guard’s stiff cock, which he rubbed back and forth over Buck’s face. Buck’s reaction was a grimace with his eyes tightly shut, so that he didn’t know the guard had laid the baton on the top bunk.
With his free hand, the guard undid the button on his pants.