Two strong hands stopped Jeff in his tracks.

The words were spoken slowly, and in a very low voice; “Don’t move a damn muscle boy if you ever want to walk out of this basement on those legs again.”

Jeff remained motionless. The guy smelled like Old Spice aftershave, and his hands, as well as his method of speaking could only be described as cold steel.

Jeff was carried into the old correction room slowly, and with apparent ease, leaving a trail of urine in his wake.

Before he knew it he was in a room that stank of shit, sweat and fear from over a century of misery within its walls.

The only thing Jeff could see was a rough rock wall with a huge furry spider slowly crawling down it.

Normally, the spider alone would be enough to freak him out, but it was almost Disneyesque in comparison to the horrible possible images of his fate, playing in his head like a horror movie.

Jeff was put into an ancient stockade made of oak. He tried to move his hands, to see if maybe he could squeeze them through the holes, but no dice.

The spider made its way down the wall and up the front of the stockade, as Jeff stood there helpless and uncomfortable.

The spider disappeared from view momentarily and Jeff wished that it had turned and found another course.

The spider suddenly appeared just to the left of his face and Jeff first tried to blow it away, and then involuntarily moved his head to avoid it. The spider stopped.

Jeff’s captor watched Jeff’s fear with amusement. He effortlessly picked up the spider by one leg and dropped it on Jeff’s back.

The scream shocked them both as it broke the silence like plate glass landing on concrete. Jeff injured his neck against the hard wood, as he felt the spider bite him on his back, just below his tattoo. He then felt it scurry down his body.

“Please, please let me go!” Jeff cried, “I will suck your dick. Anything!” he said wildly, promising himself to hold true to his plan of biting it off.

Disgusted with how quickly the boy had dissolved, his captor crushed the spider with his foot,

“Your lack of integrity disappoints me greatly young Jeffrey.” He spoke slowly. Deliberately. “Are you aware that throughout history, servicemen fighting for this great country have had to endure unspeakable horrors before giving in to such displays of submission, indeed: if they gave in at all?

“I am appalled at how little strength of character you display.” His voice got louder, “You are a disgrace your family and all of the men who have valiantly struggled to survive, some even perishing while maintaining their dignity.”

If Jeff thought he had felt fear in yesterday’s encounter in the laundry he was wrong. This was true fear. Adrenaline was still coursing through his body from the spider and his senses were on red-alert.

His heightened sensitivity was unfortunate , because the aforementioned servicemen that his captor referred to were usually in a state of shock, dehydration and starvation before their supposed ‘valiant efforts” were called upon.

Jeff was well fed from breakfast, healthy, and because of the spider, acutely aware of everything from the voice of his captor to the temperature of the room.

“Oh Jeffrey, young Jeffery. While I feel it is too late to instruct you on the subjects of true valor and courage, I think I might still be able to teach you a few things about the world...”

He paused inhaling Jeff’s fear like sweet perfume.

“The world of pain that is...” he chuckled

Jasper Wilkes was a man many would call evil. Even the spider that lay partially crushed, dying slowly could attest to the cruelty concealed in his educated method of speaking. The lowly spider had witnessed hours of anguish inflicted upon young men by the sadistic master of the discipline tank.

Mister Wilkes, as he was called throughout the institution, took his job as keeper of order and inflictor of pain very seriously. In fact he had a profound impact on what went on up above two floors above in the guppy tank.

The very knowledge of his existence caused more than a few supposedly out-of-control inmates to behave like perfect gentlemen.

Because of the nature of his unique brand of discipline, it was every resident’s worst nightmare to keep his company. Not all of them had gotten the “full treatment” but most had had at least one encounter or another.

Even if an inmate was to tell management of his doings, who would believe it? But that was academic, because nobody ever did complain. Fear of being sent to him again, and also the shame involved with certain sexual aspects of his work, combined to keep him firmly locked in position for well over thirty years.

So respected was our Mr. Wilkes, that even the venerable Ms. Finch herself had thus far been unable to have him removed.

There was an unspoken challenge to her authority that she could not tolerate. He had been safe so far, but knew very well that she was continually waiting for him to slip up.

Mr. Wilkes again admired the trembling form before him. Such a pity that the mind didn’t match that magnificent body. He had noticed Jeff right as he was being inducted. Wilkes had been so captivated by Porter’s pictures that he had taken the outrageously dangerous chance in the laundry.

The very qualities that Jeff admired about JP had turned out to be the same features that fanned the flames of his current dilemma.

Mr. Wilkes had wanted to get his hands on JP since the youth had arrived. Because Jeff bore a slight resemblance to his friend, it made him a natural target.

JP had been out of his reach, in all his arrogant bravado. Oh how Wilkes longed to correct that child. That insolent piece of white trash.

Even the name worked to help Wilkes’ fantasy. JP’s full name was: Jeffrey Parker Fitzpatrick. This coincidence of their common first name only added to the fantasy.

Jeff would have to pay, not only for his own supposed lack of character, but also for the frustration Wilkes had felt about JP. The kid had always been out of his reach.

Porter, that weak soft WOMAN of a man had taken JP under his wing and Wilkes had been forced to catch random images of that undisciplined boy. It drove him to the very brink of madness.

Oh how he longed for the day when Porter would either quit or be fired. It kept him going when he felt it was time to retire. Over the last two years, Wilkes had done something most unsettling. He had allowed himself to develop an obsession for that guttersnipe. Woe be the unfortunate youth who bore the slightest resemblance to him.

This young man whimpering before him over a damn spider was a sorry replacement for that perfect work of fearless defiance that was JP.

He had heard that Jeff had gotten himself into his current predicament due to a fight with One B’Dwayne Stokes, otherwise known as Boo.

Now THERE was a warrior. It had taken many hours to break that young man. Of course Boo had since returned to Wilkes a few times, but it was never like the first time, Wilkes thought wistfully. How that boy had fought. Such vigor.

Not like this sad excuse of manhood. Wilkes reached out a hand and administered a hard SLAP on Jeff’s tightened ass.

“That’s correct, young Jeffrey. I am going to have my way with you. There is nothing you can do about it.”

And that’s when the fun really began...