Going Too Far

by Loki Renard

The worst of the best days started innocently enough with breakfast. Breakfast time was a good time at the Bucket. The first of the three meals, both Callie and Ermie looked forward to it in their own special ways. It was a rare morning where both of them didn’t wake early and spend an hour or more waiting for the cell doors to be unlocked, and when the doors finally did open, they quickly went their separate ways to breakfast, which was impressive when one considered that they were both going in the same direction.

“See you at the Iron Pile,” Callie reminded Ermie that fateful morning before they completely lost touch in the swarm towards the food.

“Yeah, sure.” Ermie replied. She had no intention whatsoever of lifting weights. It was time Callie learned that there was a reason Ermie had chosen her protection, and that not everyone had to lift weights in order to take care of themselves. She might not be the biggest fish in the pond that was the Bucket, but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Ermie’s tummy growled as she waited to eat. She eyed the long line for food, the line that seemed to grow longer and more unfair by the moment. There was a priority in the line for food. In an ideal world, it might have been first come, first served. In reality, those with ‘rep’ made it to the front of the line far quicker than those without. Callie wandered straight up to the start of the serving counter, whereas Ermie was forced to go to the back of the line and wait, all the while watching other cons with better reputation cut in front of her.

As she waited, Ermie found herself pondering what Callie had said about how the other inmates viewed her. She also pondered how Callie viewed her. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she remembered the way she’d been treated just the night before, marched into the corner time and time again like some spoiled brat on a reality television show. Why did Callie treat her like that? She wasn’t a kid. She was a fully grown woman, and a better con than most of the others in the Bucket.

It was time Ermie earned herself some respect. It was time she showed these people what she was really good at, besides spinning pretty tales. She’d have to skip breakfast, but it would be worth it in the end. Even as her tummy growled, Ermie stepped out of line and headed back for the cells. She had some calls to make and some people to see.

“Your fish ain’t hungry again this morning,” Velda observed.

Callie shrugged disinterestedly.

“You okay?” Velda asked, pointing her plastic fork at Callie. “You seem off today.”

“I’m tired,” Callie confessed. “Chasing fish is hard work.”

“Yep,” Velda agreed. “They’re slippery little bitches when they want to be. Did you tan her hide properly yet?”

Callie snorted. “Several times.”

Velda shook her head. “Naw, I mean, properly. Less of the Mother Goose, more of the Callie.”

“Are you callin’ me a goose?” Callie asked Velda dryly.

Velda smiled a wicked smile that made her look a lot younger than she really was. “You know I ain’t messing with you Callie, I’m just saying you should look after yourself, that’s all. Set some proper boundaries, you can’t be struggling with her every day of your life.”

“Maybe,” Callie agreed. Truth was, she was tired. Ever since she’d agreed to help the fish out, she’d had nothing but trouble. She told a few good stories, sure, but Shakespeare wouldn’t have been worth the sort of trouble that Ermie was causing. It was definitely time the fish learned to take care of herself.

 

Callie noticed that Ermie made herself scarce around the cells after breakfast, which didn’t bother her a whole lot. It was nice to have some peace and quiet, some time to write. She spent the morning laying on her bed and scribbling out a few letters, enjoying the calm that came with having the cell to herself. Wherever Ermie was, she better be keeping out of trouble.

Exercise hour rolled around, and as was her habit, Callie made her way to the iron pile and started working out. She wasn’t surprised to discover that there was no sign of Ermie, no sign of her at all. Callie didn’t look as hard for her as she could have done, brat fatigue had set in well and truly, and if Callie was to be honest with herself, it was nice to feel freedom again for a bit. Freedom to do whatever she wanted and not be keeping an eye out for a fish with a death wish.

She pumped iron the whole hour, feeling a lot of the tension leaving her as she worked out. When the siren sounded to indicate the end of exercise hour, she felt almost refreshed as she stretched her arms on the way back to her cell. She’d have to rest up a bit before she gave Ermie a hiding for lying to her and avoiding the iron pile. A grim smile set itself on Callie’s face as she thought about how contrite Ermie would be when she was finished with her.

The smile wiped itself off her face when she arrived at the door of her cell and saw a complete stranger sitting on Ermie’s bed. Instead of the younger woman Callie had become so familiar with, there was an older woman, closer to Callie’s age with curling hair and smoker’s lips.

“Who the fuck are you?” Callie asked as she barged into the cell. She didn’t like new people and she sure as hell didn’t like them in her cell.

“I’m Ermie,” the woman replied, her face perfectly straight. “They moved me here this morning.”

For a moment, Callie couldn’t believe it. “What the fuck? Get the fuck out of here, and tell my bitch she better get her ass back here right fucking now!”

The woman cowered away, looking thoroughly intimidated. “I don’t know what happened. The screws put me here. Said I’d been in the wrong cell,” she pleaded. “I don’t know who your bitch is.”

“That fucking fish,” Callie swore under her breath as her hands clenched into fists. Ermie, Loki, whatever the hell her name was. She had to be behind this. It had her chocolate pudding coated fingerprints all over it. She’d kill her this time for sure.

“Henderson!” she boomed into the hallway.

She didn’t get Henderson, she got C.O Rodriguez instead, a hard woman with little time for listening to prisoners.

“What’s the problem, Lee?” Rodriguez asked, snapping her gum in a way that made Callie want to snap her neck.

Callie jabbed her finger in the woman’s direction. “She’s the problem. She’s not my cell mate.”

Rodriguez looked around Callie at the woman. “Who are you?”

“Ermie White,” the woman claimed. Callie growled. If she was a liar, she was a bold faced liar at that.

“She ain’t Ermie. Ermie’s taller and younger and has a different face,” Callie pointed out.

Rodriguez sniffed disinterestedly. “This is 412. Lee and White. She’s your cellmate.”

Callie’s brain almost exploded at the woman’s brazen stupidity. “No. She’s not. Ask anyone. Ask Henderson.

“It’s Henderson’s day off, and I don’t like your tone. Are you telling me how to do my job?” Rodriguez became instantly defensive.

Callie did her best to calm herself down and talk the woman around. “I’m just sayin’ this isn’t the Ermie I’ve been rooming with. And if this isn’t her, where is she?”

“Don’t you worry where anyone is, we’ve got this all under control,” Rodriguez offered her the platitude.

“You’ve got a prisoner missing is what you’ve got, you stupid…” Callie tried to stop herself, but it was too late. Rodriguez slammed the cell door shut in her face.

“You can spend the rest of the day locked down for that attitude, Lee,” she sneered through the safety glass.

“Fuck!” Callie swore loudly, turning back to her new cellmate, who was now looking thoroughly terrified.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” the woman whimpered.

“What are you in here for?” Callie demanded.

The woman named Ermie blushed. “I don’t like to…”

“I ain’t asking,” Callie said paradoxically. “What are you in here for?”

“Pandering,” the new Ermie whispered.

“Fuck!” Callie punched the mattress of her bed. The fish had them all so wrapped up in circles nobody knew where they were anymore. “She better have escaped, because if she’s still in here, I’m going to kill her.”

Callie was furious, and her mood did not improve as she spent the next 24 hours locked down in her cell with a total, albeit apologetic, stranger. It wasn’t until Henderson came on duty at 10 am the next day that Callie finally got someone to listen to her.

“What’s up Lee, I saw there was some trouble in here. That’s not like you,” Henderson said, frowning quizzically.

“It’s not like me. It’s like that little bitch of mine,” Callie growled.

Henderson looked around and for obvious reasons, failed to see the Ermie she was looking for. “Where is she?”

“That’s the question. I’ve got Rodriguez tellin’ me that,” Callie jabbed a thumb in the new Ermie’s direction. “Is her.”

“Aw hell,” Henderson groaned. “Let me see if I can find her.”

An hour later, Callie’s fish had not been found, but a lot of C.O’s had started walking around the place holding mugshots and looking concerned. On her way past the cell, Henderson dropped back in to update Callie.

“Well, so far we know this. Your fish? Her name really is Loki. She’s had someone in the justice department mixing up the forms to make it easier for her to skip her sentence by taking someone’s identity with a lighter sentence and hoping the double up doesn’t get noticed. When the second Loki came in, she had her lawyer misinformed and was obviously going to try skating by on Ermie’s sentence, but now it looks like she’s swapped ID’s again, so we’ve got another double in the system. Somewhere.” Henderson’s expression was grim.

“So she’s, what, escaped?” Callie asked, feeling some sneaking admiration.

Henderson shook her head. “We’ve had no releases over the past 48. She’s in here, somewhere.”

“Why don’t you just check where this Ermie came from?” Callie suggested.

“We did. She’s not there. At least, she doesn’t seem to be.”

“So she’s hiding from prison, in prison,” Callie marveled.

“Pretty much,” Henderson pushed her sunglasses onto her head and twirled her nightstick in one hand.

“This is not going to end well for her, is it?”

Henderson shook her head, her expression grim. “Definitely not. Not. At. All. This has gone all the way to the prison governor.”

“Wow,” Callie said under her breath. She’d known Loki had a penchant for mischief, but this seemed, well, excessive even for her.

Henderson’s radio crackled into life. “Got her.”

Henderson raised her eyebrows and lifted the radio to her mouth. “Where?”

“D Wing. She was with the loonies.”

“Shit,” Callie swore softly. The fish had some balls. Everyone avoided D Wing. D Wing was where they put you when you forgot what your name was and what a prison was for. Actually, Callie thought to herself, perhaps that was the perfect place for Loki. The fish was crazier than a cat with six legs.

A cheer started down the far end of the wing as Henderson turned to Callie with a wry grin. “That’ll be her now, I’m guessing.”

The cheer moved along the cells as two guards walked Loki in front of them. The prisoners were showing their appreciation for the interesting break from routine. It wasn’t often one of their own got one over on the system, when someone did, it was cause for celebration.

She had no handcuffs or bruises, so she’d obviously gone peacefully, Callie was relieved to note. Her orange uniform was ripped at the seams though, a fact that didn’t seem to bother her as she looked up to where Callie and Henderson were standing and blew them a kiss, bringing catcalls and laughter.

“How long is she going to be in the seg?” Callie asked thoughtfully.

Henderson dropped her shades so as to look more officious. “Oh I don’t know, a day or so. Why?”

“Just wondering how long I’ve got to rest my arm up.”

“Take as long as you like,” Henderson grinned. “I’ll have her delivered when you’re ready.”

Callie made the most of three days of peace and quiet in the cell she now had all to herself. Henderson had been kind enough to have Ermie removed back to her old cell, which Ermie had been more than happy to comply with, and Callie had reveled in not just the peace and the quiet, but the knowledge that her bitch was securely under lock and key until such time as she felt like dealing with her.

On the fourth day, Callie gave the word to have Loki brought to her. Enough time had passed that Callie was pretty sure she could look Loki in the eye without strangling her, but not so much time that she’d forgotten just how badly she needed to teach the fish a lesson. After she asked Henderson to bring Loki to her, she stood waiting for Loki to arrive in the middle of their cell, her arms behind her back, her face severe.

“Here you go Callie, enjoy,” Henderson winked as she ushered Loki through the door.

“Hey Callie,” Loki grinned, walking through the door with a swagger. The fish knew she’d earned some significant respect from some of the cons with her stunt. What she’d done showed not only that she had some balls, but that she had some pull on the outside. That kind of power was prized in the Bucket, and Loki was riding high on it, Callie noted with narrow eyes.

Time to bring the fish down a peg or five.

“Shut up,” Callie rapped.

Loki’s grin faded slightly. “Hey, no need to be so…”

Her attempt at calming the situation failed miserably as Callie grabbed her and yanked her over her lap. There was no talking, there were no kind words, there was no patient cajoling, there was only a rapidly and roughly bared ass and Callie’s hand cracking down across it with rapid fire slaps.

“Fuck Callie, let me go, stop it!” Loki begged, but she could have offered Callie a million dollars and Callie still wouldn’t have stopped spanking the brat’s ass. Callie grabbed the mass of brown wavy hair at the nape of Loki’s neck and used it to hold the younger woman down in position as she turned her pale backside into a cherry red sight for sore eyes.

“I don’t care what you do fish. I don’t care how big you think you are. You do as you’re told when you’re told, or you suffer the consequences, got it? I’m sick of your shit,” Callie growled in Loki’s ear.

“Yes, okay, okay,” Loki squealed, squirming her backside around in a wriggling dance designed to try to get the fire out of it. “I am sorry, I’m sorry,” she promised contritely with tears in her eyes.

Already Callie liked her tone. She’d dropped the bravado and actually sounded a little scared, but it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t done with the fish by a long shot. She’d been nothing but kind to her little bitch and what had she gotten in return? Lies, disobedience, brattiness and more lies. Loki would learn to be grateful for the kindness Callie showed her. Oh yes she would.

Loki didn’t see Callie picking up the bread board Henderson had kindly delivered from the kitchen, but she arched and screamed like a banshee when it came down across her ass with the full strength of Callie’s iron pumping arm behind it. Callie paused long enough to let the sting and the burn settle in, and just a little bit longer for Loki to hope that the spanking was over, and brought the breadboard down again. Again Loki shrieked as if she was being killed as her backside erupted into pain.

Ordinarily, Callie would have been interrupted in her task. Ordinarily, the guards would have put a stop to what was going on in cell 412. But on this day, no guard seemed inclined to save Loki’s behind as Callie roasted it with the bread board. A total of fifteen hard strokes landed on Loki’s backside in slow succession, each one punctuated with floods of tears and near hysterical begging to be let up.

Callie did not relent. She knew very well what Loki needed. She needed to be shown once and for all who was top. She needed to be shown that she couldn’t sweet talk her way out of her punishment, or find a clever way to dodge it. Callie knew all too well that Loki would probably find her way to a shortened sentence with her tricks, but she was damned certain that she would learn at least one lesson in the Bucket – that there were some lines and people she couldn’t cross and hope to get away with it.

Finally, Callie laid down the bread board paddle and surveyed the damage. Loki’s backside and thighs were a hot, tight red mass with some bruising already showing under the skin. Loki herself was crying floods of tears, and though Callie was tempted to hug the brat and comfort her a little, she restrained herself. Instead of the hug, Callie stood up with the wailing Loki in her arms, walked the short distance across the cell and deposited Loki on her bed on her stomach, where she left her to cry herself out.

Loki’s cries seemed to grow louder and more anguished as she lay on her bed alone. As she retired to her own bunk, Callie did her best to close her ears to Loki’s wailing. The brat had deserved it, she’d deserved every single swat. It was for her own good too, Callie knew that much. So why did every sob now wrench at her heart?

Crossing her arms stoically over her chest, Callie laid back and prayed for the crying to stop.

The End

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