I’m nude, arms sleeved up to shoulders, legs frogtied back butt to heel, resting on my elbows and knees. I have pads on my elbows and knees, but I know being stuck in this fucking thing is going to get uncomfortable quick. I am wearing an open mouth gag and a black, hood ski mask; as well as an uncomfortable metal chastity cage and open mouth gag.
I’m waiting in front of Warden Adams desk as she goes through my file. “Jealous and killed your ex in a drunken rage. Months of social media showing you were stalking her and begging her to take you back. Witnesses seeing you arguing in public. A drunken argument on her porch the night she was murdered. Such a terrible crime against such a bright young woman.”
But I didn’t kill her! I went to a bar to drink it off, and was woken by the cops the next day. My defence attorney told me the security cam in the bar wasn’t working and the bartender on shift quit with no forwarding address or working contact information. Of course my fingerprints and DNA were all over the crime scene, I used to live there! Prosecutors sought the death penalty, but later changed it to life without parole and “Wardens discretion” I was just now learning what that meant. I foolishly but desperately tried to convey my innocence to Warden Adams. She said “Silence, bitch boi!” in a stern voice that brooked no argument.