The sharp sound of a buzzer went off and the gigantic metallic door slid open right afterward. Two guards' solemn faces greeted me, along with the horrid stench of a thousand burning manure piles, or at least that was what I thought a thousand burning manure piles smelled like. Instinctively, I scrunched up my nose in repulsion. 

"Are you the lawyer?" The taller and wider of the two asked gruffly. He looked irritated by me, despite this being our first meeting. Did he think I was making a face at him?

"Yes. Julian Evers." I reached out a hand for him to shake, putting on my 'professional' smile. 

He stared at it with apparent disdain and ignored it.

So much for hospitality.

Well, it was to be expected; this was a prison I was walking into after all, and not just any old prison. Oh, no. This was the prison to end all prisons, the infamous, aptly-named The Prison From Hell. It was Satan's own playground, a cesspool containing the worst specimen of humanity, and a haven for the degenerates, or so that blog I checked out before coming here for the first time proclaimed. Then again, why else would you build a maximum-security prison way out in the Pacific Ocean if it weren't to dump the worst criminal in the country and basically proceed to forget they even existed? 

"You're early," the irritated guard grumbled, then gave me a once-over. I resisted the urge to visibly shudder; the way his pewter grey eyes crawled over my body was... lecherous? Whatever it was, I didn't like it. 

I made a show of glancing down at my watch and said, "Yeah, the helicopter got here faster than I thought it would." 

In reality, I'd harassed the chopper's pilot into taking off way before schedule for two reasons. The first was that, since the day I began my career as a criminal defense lawyer, I'd never been late for a client meeting, nor a session at a court, and I intended to uphold that streak till the end of my career. The second was because I was excited. This was my first high profile case since joining my firm, and it was one step closer to become a junior associate. If I did well, then I'd be looked over for the position of junior associate at BB&M. 

Are those really the only reasons why? A voice quipped annoyingly in my head. 

I ignored it as I'd done a million times before, and stepped into the prison once the guards moved out of my way. The door slid closed behind me with a loud, metallic slam that I imagined reverberated across the entire block. 

I looked around to see that I was in some sort of registration room. Other than the two guards who'd come to 'welcome' me, there was one other behind the equivalent of a reception desk. Naturally, the reception guard sat behind bulletproof glass. 

Bleak eyes stared at me. 

"Hi, I'm Julian Evers. I'm Mr. Schneider Cross's attorney. He's expecting me." I told him. 

"Is this your first time visiting?" The guard with the bleak stare questioned, his voice monotone. 

"No, it's my second time." 

"Good; I won't bother explaining the rules to you again. Hand me your ID and your completed visit form." 

I pushed the documents he needed into the compartment under the glass, then slid the lid closed. He opened his side of the compartment, briefly scanned the documents, then gave them back. 

He nodded to the guards standing behind me on either side of me. I hadn't even noticed that they'd come to stand so close to me. 

"This way, Mr. Evers." The irritated guard purred from behind me. 

The change in his tone did not escape me. I turned around just in time to see that same strange look he gave me earlier glimmering in his eyes. Again, I ignored it and followed the other guard deeper into the prison.Once again, I felt the aura of danger, depravity and despair that surrounded this prison, and it was not dulled in the slightest despite this being my second visit. If anything, it was intensified due to the tension I felt about meeting my new, high-profile client. 

We arrived at the inspection area, where more guards were stationed, and I was made to pass through a security scanner. As always, it sounded an alarm. I was beginning to believe I'd swallowed a coin as a child and had never managed to pass it, and it now tripped off every form of scanner. I had yet to enter an airport without being frisked. 

Today was no different. 

A guard approached while slapping on a pair of gloves, but the grey-eyed guard stopped him. "I'll do it." 

I immediately tensed. He stepped in front of me, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He made a show of putting on a pair of white gloves, then commanded, "Hold your arms out and spread your legs."

Reluctantly, I lowered my briefcase onto the ground and did what I was told, telling myself that this was just procedure. 

I could not have been more wrong. When he put his hands on me, I couldn't help but jump a little. My heart rate sped up in reaction. He started at my shoulders, his hands big and heavy. Unusually slowly, he trailed his hands down my arms, feeling me with probably a little more vigor than what was needed. He then rubbed -yes rubbed!- my chest.  

Uncomfortable, I muttered in an attempt to persuade him to stop, "It's probably my belt or my shoes." 

"We shall see," he said dismissively. Suddenly, his hands cupped my breasts and my eyes widened. 

Before I could protest, he'd already moved downward, but he had definitely copped a feel. I was absolutely speechless. Next, his hands trailed ever down to my- 

"Hey-!" 

"Kevin, that's enough. He's the king's guest," one of the guards warned, stepping forward. 

The grey-eyed guard called Kevin tsked and abruptly released me. "Shame," I heard him mutter, sounding genuinely disappointed that he was made to stop. 

It seemed that some of the guards were depraved as well, and not just the inmates they guarded. 

I clenched my teeth and balled my fists in an effort to stop myself from swiping at his jaw; I was here to do a job and I couldn't allow petty distractions like Kevin here to keep me from doing so, no matter how invasive and illegal they were. 

Brushing off my disgust, I bent down to pick up my briefcase and followed the guards once more past a series of locked, metal doors until we reached the inner sanctum of the prison. By then, only Kevin -much to my alarm-remained. The rest of the guards had either been called via their walkie talkies or had wandered off somewhere. He walked in front of me with an arrogant strut, one hand resting on the baton by his side.

As we walked, the prison's true, run-down state began to show. The once semi-clean, grey walls grew dirtier as we walked -some even had graffiti work on them! I couldn't even begin to guess how the inmates had smuggled spray cans in. Countless leakages had ruined the paint of the concrete walls, puffing them in places while it shed onto the floor in others. The stench grew too musty to bear, making his eyes water in response. 

He made a turn that I didn't remember taking the last time I was here. I abruptly halted in my steps, and when he noticed, he turned to look at me. My eyes narrowed on him suspiciously as the alarms in my head sounded. 

This wasn't right.  

"I don't remember the visiting rooms being this way," I stated matter-of-factly, meeting his gaze head on. I didn't have time to be playing games with a guard with less-than-honorable intentions; I had a client to get to. 

"There is more than one way to get there. I'm taking you through the scenic route," he explained. I noted his relaxed posture and mild smile, then I looked past him at the corridor. It wasn't dark with just one flickering light illuminating it, and it looked just like any other well-lit corridor we'd been in so far. Admittedly, I hadn't detected any insincerity in his explanation.

Noting my visible skepticism, he taunted, "What do you think I'm going to do? There are cameras everywhere." He pointed a finger to a nearby CCTV camera.

Figuring that I was wasting time arguing with an obstinate guard, I sighed in defeat and said, "Fine, but make it quick." 

Against my better judgment, I followed him down the corridor. I had to admit to myself that there was a curious part of me that wanted to explore the prison and see the places I hadn't seen on my first visit here. 

Just keep in mind that curiosity killed the cat.

We walked for a few minutes, and when nothing about the 'scenery' changed, I complained, "I thought you said this is the 'scenic route'." 

Just then, a peculiar sound drifted to my ears. As we walked, it grew louder and louder, which meant we were getting closer and closer to the source of it. At first, it sounded to me like a wounded animal trapped in a cage. Frowning in concentration, I strained my ears to hear it better. 

Was that someone- 

Moaning?! 

As we rounded the corner and entered a room, I came upon a sight that I would never be able to scrub from my memory. My eyes widened and the briefcase fell from my hand and I involuntarily took a step back. The breath whooshed out of my lungs when I gasped. 

Shoved through a tight hole in the wall at dick level was some guy. The front half of him was in the room next door, while the other half was in the room we'd walked into. It was his lower half that I had the displeasure of seeing, and it was completely bare. 

I blanched. 

Cum dribbled out of his gaping asshole down his inner thighs and all the way to the ground. His asscheeks were colored a furious red, and I even thought I spotted a few whip marks. Someone had marked the words "FREE TOILET" across his ass with a black marker pen. Standing next to him was presumably the guy who'd used and abused the... ah, 'free toilet' for lack of better words, who was also completely naked. 

"What the fuck!" I hissed once my tongue unknotted, reeling from the perverted sight. 

What the hell was I seeing?! How was I seeing this in a maximum-security prison?!

"Already told you. I'm just showing you the scenery," Kevin whispered in my left ear from behind me. He was so close that his breath fanned my earlobe. Startled, I was about to whirl around, but he held me in place by the shoulders, keeping me from turning. 

"Don't look away now. It's about to get good," he purred in my ear again. 

The guy standing over the 'free toilet' took Kevin's words as his cue. Grinning mischievously, he stepped closer to the dribbling bottom. Sensing this, the free toilet started fidgeting, making more cum leak out of his ass. God, just how much had they cum inside him?

He began to protest from the other side of the room, his voice muffled. "No, please! No more! I can-mghhg!" Something silenced him. 

Oh God. If I had to guess, it sounded like- 

"Someone shoved his cock down his throat in case you were wondering," Kevin confirmed for me, and I could just hear the evil grin in his voice. 

My eyes fixed on the flaccid cock as it attempted to re-enter the used asshole. I couldn't look away for the life of me, my heart thumping wildly against my chest. Because he wasn't hard enough, it took a few clumsy tries for him to shove his cock inside, and when he did, he just stopped moving. He didn't pound away like I'd expected him to. 

What the hell is he doing? 

My eyes bulged out of their sockets when I finally caught on to what he was doing. The guy sighed contentedly, his head falling back and his eyes drifting closed in what appeared to be pure euphoria. The poor guy in the wall stopped struggling and he abruptly came, his dick sputtering jets of white jizz onto the already-soiled floor. Then, I saw it. A yellowish liquid dribbled out of his ass. 

I roughly pushed away from Kevin, seized my briefcase off the floor and ran out of the room like a bat out of hell, Kevin's mocking laughter trailing after me. 

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I inwardly cursed. Only when I'd made it to the visiting rooms did I stop. I found the nearest wall and leaned on it for support, one hand flattened against it. When my breathing steadied somewhat, I finally glanced down at the obvious bulge in my pants. Shame colored my cheeks.

Just what the fuck did I walk into?