Clang clang clang. A sound of a baton hitting the steel bars echoed into my cell. I laid still on my bed, facing the wall. Soon, I heard the key clinks and then the door creak and open. Then some footsteps.
“Wake up, boy! It’s time for your initiation!” a voice thundered into my eardrums. How rude, to shout aloud right beside someone’s ears. I rolled my body the other way and sat on my bed visibly disgruntled. Before me stood two prison wardens, a brown-haired one with papers and a blond one with a baton.
“So, we got a rapist here, eh?” said the brown one, while surveying through the papers he brought. Which was absolutely untrue. I never fornicated anyone against their will. Tch, tch, tch, clucked the blond warden and he swung his baton in air as if to intimidate me. Oh, right. So this is the education behind the bar people talk about.
“You got anything to say to defend yourself?” said the blond one, placing his feet between my legs. I didn’t answer. Not because I wanted to protest their unjustified violence, but I was rather bothered by a certain thing I noticed about them.
“Oh, boy. We’ve got a quiet one here, Randy. Your favorite.” said the brown-haired warden. “You go ahead first.” The blond warden, probably named Randy, smiled and grasped my neck with his big and hairy left hand. The right hand was busy spinning the baton.
“Well, hope you’re ready.” said Randy. He raised his right arm, perhaps originally intended to strike me down. But his arm froze amid air, and was visibly shaken. Of course, I’ve already used my magic and suggested that he can’t do any harm on my body. Which he obeyed. Against his will. I then used my power to suggest for the brown-haired warden to come and kneel before me, like his friend. Which he too obeyed. It was strange. How can government just send me anyone without a protection against magic? A simple dispel charm would have worked. Or a silver shackle.
Randy and the brown-haired warden, named Jon, were clenching their teeth hard in a fear. It was obvious that they never experienced the art of magic before. I made Jon hand me over his papers and read them over. Hmm. Huh? There was absolutely no mention that I was a powerful magician. And the crimes listed were… uh… fornicating with people of familiar names, my former enemies, which if I recall correctly, whom I turned into girls and made them my willful sex buddies. I mean, sex pals are much better than hostile rivalry.
Of course, that’s why I got in here! I had no idea. I assumed that my sex life probably angered the upper magicians who values their tradition and dignity above all else. I do remember them lecturing me about the purity of the body bullshits and such. Well, someone was busy pulling strings behind my back.
“I haven’t fucked or jerked off for quite awhile,” I said. True. All the witch trials was giving me too much stress and surveillance for me to release my libido. Which was absolutely mandatory, considering my corporeal lust. “You get what I’m saying.”
At an instant, there knelt not two wardens, but two naked ladies save for their caps. They screamed and covered their tits and groin in shame and panic, but not for so long. I altered their brain a bit and viola! They’re a cute couple of man-thirsty bimbos. I looked up, and from afar across the hallway there was a shocked inmate who kept rubbing his eyes. Well, after I waved my hands at him, he was quite a pretty lady too.
While I took my clothes off, these man-begging ladies crawled onto the bed, and they spread up for me to fuck into. If I had my old friend (whom I also feminized and made my sex pal) with me here, I could alter them into any shape or size, but this gender bending will do, I thought. I had my share of sex for that day that moment, but those two poor bimbo wardens will never get enough dicks matched for their lust. Well, not until I go free from the jail. I thought to myself, I will enjoy my time being here.