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 Warning: dubious consent
  
  The Lines Got Gray by eggy  

 "Adebisi - he thinks he's so much badder because he's so fucking black,
because he's a fucking African. Probably killed lions back in the jungle
or some shit."

 Poet chuckles and snorts powder off of his hand. "Better not let him
catch you talking like that," he says, wiping his nose.

 "Man, fuck that nigger."

 Kenny feels a chill wind its way up his spine a split-second before
Poet's eyes go wide and he takes a nervous step back. With a sense of
foreboding, Kenny turns around to see Adebisi looming in the doorway of
the classroom he and Poet have been using to get high. His arms are
crossed over his broad chest and he chews lazily on a toothpick. Adebisi's
lip curls in a sneer and he jerks his head towards the rec area. "Shower,
Kenny," he says.

 Kenny bristles at the order, but he can't disobey, not in front of Poet,
not with the whites of Adebisi's eyes red and dangerous.
"What-the-fuck-ever," he bites out as he squeezes past Adebisi, who laughs
and smacks his ass. Seething, Kenny walks with as much dignity and
attitude as he can muster to their pod to get a towel. He knows he's
imagining it, but he feels like every inmate in Em City is looking at him
and laughing because they know he's about to get fucked.

 Kenny is scrubbing his arms when Adebisi joins him. He rubs harder
circles on his skin, trying not to glance at Adebisi's crotch. If Adebisi
is already hard, he'll just fuck him; if he's not, Kenny will have to get
on his knees.

 Catching the tension in Kenny's stance, Adebisi reaches over and strokes
a lingering caress over Kenny's arm. "I don't think I'll fuck you now,
Kenny," Adebisi drawls, turning up his shower spray. "Later maybe."

 Kenny knows Adebisi does this on purpose. It'll make him jumpy and
on-edge the rest of the day and Adebisi will have a good chuckle to
himself before he finally sticks his dick into him. His skin prickles with
dread and anticipation every time someone brushes against him while he's
on work detail. It's not completely unlike arousal, however torturous it
is, and it makes him think of going to clubs with his girl before she was
his wife and grinding with her on the dance floor, knowing she didn't have
any panties on beneath her mini-skirt, knowing he was going to fuck her
hard later. It's like that, only instead of getting an erection, he wants
to throw up.

 He begs some smack off Poet before they're locked in their cages for the
night. There's no way he can sit in his pod, waiting for the lights to go
out, knowing that Adebisi is going to prag him out. It's a bitter pill; he
was running shit before Adebisi came back from the psych ward and now he's
on the bottom rung of the ladder.

 He snorts enough powder that he can only stare dumbly at Adebisi when he
comes in, a bright red piece of cloth pulled taut between his hands.
"Stand up," Adebisi barks. Kenny obeys with wobbly limbs, facing the bunks
and grasping the top rail to keep himself on his feet. He expects Adebisi
to tie his hands, but the cloth is drawn around his waist and Adebisi
grins and says, "Take a deep breath."

 "What the fuck?" he wheezes as Adebisi deftly ties a tight knot at
Kenny's spine. It hurts his ribs when he tries to exhale and he shakes a
little. Adebisi pushes him towards the corner of the pod, out of sight
between the bunks and the wall. In perfect timing, as though Adebisi
controls all the ins and outs of Oz, Em City falls into darkness.

 Already hazy with drugs, the pressure around his middle only makes it
harder for Kenny to think straight. "Pretty Kenny." He shudders away from
the words, but Adebisi's hands are firm on his hips, the familiar weight
of his cock against the cleft of Kenny's ass. "I'd like to put a wig on
you," Adebisi muses to himself. "What you say, Kenny," Adebisi croons. His
eyes and hands run critically down Kenny's body. "Want to dress up like a
pretty girl for me?" Kenny can't yell or snarl or speak, can only take
tiny, sipping breaths, tense and still in Adebisi's hold.

 He hears Adebisi slicking something onto his cock and he supposes he
should be grateful but his mind skitters away at the thought of thanking
that bastard for anything he does to him. Without further ado, Adebisi
lines himself up and presses smoothly inside of him. A wail withers and
dies in Kenny's throat when he can't draw enough breath in to give it
voice. Adebisi laughs and angles in deeper.

 "Not going to scream for me?" Adebisi's voice is low and hot against his
ear. "Not so tight anymore, eh, Kenny? You're getting used to this."

 "Fuck you," Kenny huffs. It sounds weak and faraway and he chokes trying
to gather the strength to say more. His sweaty palms press against the pod
wall and his head hangs between his shoulders. He tries to let his mind
curl in on itself, escaping the fucking he's getting, but it doesn't work
like usual. Instead it's cataloguing the feel of Adebisi's cock--warm and
twitching and alive inside of him and when he glances down Kenny sees with
a sense of dread that his own cock is stirring.

 Shallow breaths ghost damply on the concrete wall. He prays that Adebisi
doesn't notice his erection, but he knows he's out of luck when Adebisi
lets out a full-throated guffaw. He thrusts deliberately against the spot
that makes Kenny groan and shiver helplessly. He doesn't know why it
exists other than to let Adebisi taunt him.

 Adebisi tugs at the cloth around Kenny's waist, making him bend over
further. The short, sharp jerks of his hips mean that he's close to coming
and Kenny is glad because the lack of oxygen, the fear of it is making his
vision blur and go black. His skin feels pinched and rubbed raw beneath
the cinched fabric.

 Groaning, Adebisi presses himself flush to Kenny's backside and he comes
hard inside of him. The feel of it is still alien to Kenny, the wet rush
of warmth and Kenny's cock gives another feeble pulse. Adebisi pulls his
softening cock out and Kenny is stretched and used and still high and hard
and just as humiliated as Adebisi wants him to be.

 "Take care of that." Adebisi says over his shoulder, washing up at the
sink. Gritting his teeth, Kenny fists his cock roughly. Adebisi does this
just to drive his point home and as much as he hates Adebisi for it, Kenny
needs this bit of satisfaction. He rubs his thumb over the sensitive spot
below the head and he closes his eyes and pretends Adebisi isn't here,
that he's somewhere far away and he comes all over his hand and the
already dirty wall.

 It takes all the concentration he can muster to reach behind him and pull
ineffectively at the knot. "Leave it," Adebisi says, crawling onto the top
bunk. Kenny whimpers a little in frustration, but he's too tired and weak
to protest and he collapses face first onto the mattress. He knows he will
have a ring of angry purple bruises around his waist in the morning. He
knows Adebisi will laugh and prod at them with his fingers or with kitchen
utensils. He knows this will be his life for the next five to twenty years
unless something happens. Thankfully, he thinks, half-unconscious, the
tides in Oz are quick to change. His final coherent thought before passing
out into uneasy, fretful sleep is that he hopes he's the one who finally
gets to stick the shank in Adebisi's heart.

  Please send feedback to eggy.