Fan Fiction ❯ You Make Me Crazy ❯ Imprisoned With a Freak ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Malon learns a bit more about her cellmate, causing her to rather dislike the man. But later on, the "freak" begins to grow on her, making her realize that when you get to know people better, you can end up liking...or loving them.

Funny tidbit: For some reason, Malon's cellmate reminds me of Willy Wonka in this chapter... >_>

Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.15.2005 | Updated On: 09.15.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 270 | Status: Completed

“Look, I don't want to deal with you! Get off!” Malon demanded.

“SHUT UP, BITCH! WE'RE TRYING TO SLEEP! DEAL WITH WHATEVER THE FUCK IS WRONG!” an angered prisoner shouted at the top of his lungs.

“But he's sleeping on my chest!” she squealed, contorting her face in disgust.

“Lucky you. He slept on my chest once. You get at least a few days with him.” A man in another cell said.

“Okay, I'm just going to pretend like I'm not here, and that I don't have a crazy man lying on top of me.” She moaned sleepily.

“See? Things already got a little better.” The man whispered in her ear as he snuggled into her chest. “And besides, according to people, we're both crazy here.”

“By the way, are you bisexual?” she muttered in an interrogating tone.

Her cellmate laughed. “Seriously?”

“In all seriousness. In fact, you seem just gay to me. You're probably just flirting with me to convince me otherwise.”

Before Malon could blink her eyes, her cellmate slipped under the covers with her.

“Okay, I'll go with bisexual.” She tried to ignore his head which was finding its way into the middle of her soft bosom.

“You smell funny.” He giggled. It sounded a bit girlish, but was in a slightly deep tone.

Malon's face became bright red as her fist lashed upon his head. “Who are you to judge anyone, freak?”

“You smell like men's cum, a bit of blood, some hay and you have the smell of Gerudo women on you. Not a bad combination.”

“You know what? Let's just go to sleep. If my scent bothers you that much, then wait until morning when we get a shower.” And with that, she fell asleep.

“Oh, believe me…I can't wait until tomorrow morning.” He purred, stroking her scalp so lightly with his bandaged fingertips as to not wake her. “I can't wait.”

Surely enough, the morning arrived. The sun cast its rays through the small barred window at the top of the cell, leaving stripes of light across the floor below.

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! BREAKFAST TIME! THEN YOU FILTHY PRISONERS ARE TAKING A SHOWER TOGETHER!” a guard called.

“Alright! Sounds good to me!” Malon's cellmate said gleefully.

Malon smacked him across the face, somewhat pleased with the mark she left behind. “PERVERT!”

“Hey, I was talking about breakfast.” He insisted while rubbing his face, nursing it.

The bar door slid open and Malon leapt out of her bed, knocking her cellmate off of her chest. She was glad to not be cooped up with the jackass that slept on top of her all night. She followed the prisoners to a large hall filled with rotting wooden tables. Each had a plate with some sort of fried goop on it.

She tried to look for a table that was filled up except for one seat as to avoid being forced to sit next to her cellmate, but she failed to find one. Sighing, she took an empty table and instantly found herself next to the perverted freak.

“Yes! The white stuff! My favorite! It's even better than the orange stuff or the green stuff!” he remarked.

Malon was not in the mood for his usual wisecracks, so she just coerced herself to eat every disgusting morsel on her plate. After about half an hour, she heard the thing she was dreading most…

“SHOWERTIME, YOU FILTHY BUMS!” a grumpy guard shouted. “LINE UP IN THE SHOWER AREA TO STRIP!”

Malon's eyes widened as she looked for a way to sneak back to her cell. But of course, it was nearly impossible to do; another guard blocked the way back to the cells.

“Come on, let's get clean!” he pushed her in the direction all the other prisoners were going. “You need it.”

Malon stood in a line, in front of many other men, who all stripped as they got further down. Their clothes were taken and put in a basket.

“They'll wash your clothes for you.” Her cellmate informed her.

“That's nice to know.” She was eventually commanded to strip, which she reluctantly did. A few whistles of interest escaped the mouths of the prisoners, and she quickly covered up her body with her hands.

“Shut up you oafs! Quit treating the lady so rudely!” the guard gnarred.

Malon's cellmate stood behind her, taking his spandex suit and the bandages off his body and handing them to the guard. He found himself constantly looking at her derriere, unable to take his eyes off it. He was completely transfixed. Suddenly, he smacked himself across the face to make himself get out of the trance. Snapping his fingers, a brush appeared in his hands like magic.

“Here,” he told Malon, “you'll probably want to brush your hair before and after you wash it to remove any tangles.”

She couldn't help but blush a bit as she turned around to see him offering her a brush. But it wasn't the brush that interested her. It was his body. It was amazing, and she couldn't stop staring.

“Hello?” he waved the brush in front of her face.

She couldn't hear his words, though. Instead, she looked at his silky, golden blonde hair, which just reached his slender, sleek, yet powerful shoulders. Then she lowered her gaze to his robust chest and then sent her line of vision slightly downward, which led her to his manly abs, hardy and also shiny from a slight amount of sweat.

She knew she was going to regret her actions next, but she let her eyes wander further down until she laid eyes upon golden curls, rather complimenting his large testicles. He remained so still and stiff, his penis did not move. But she wanted him to move…so she could see it dance for her. In a place like this, it was very entertaining when there was nothing else to do. He was so…elegant. So…virile.

“GET MOVING, LADY! I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY! EYE HIS CROTCH IN THE SHOWER IF YOU WANT, BUT NOT HERE!”

Malon took the brush from her cellmate and muttered an apology. She rushed to the nearest place to stand and held onto the wall; she felt quite dizzy from the excitement.

Her cellmate, to her dismay, stood next to her, smiling. “It's okay, I get that a lot.”

She let her jaw drop open, and stared into his ruby eyes once more for nearly a minute.

“It's not polite to stare, dear.” He patted her on the back and looked up. “They're about to pour the water so get your soap ready.”

She nodded and quickly removed any knots out of her hair, and then set the brush down to grab some soap. “By the way, I would like to know…your name.”

Her cellmate flicked his shoulder-length blonde hair away from his face, and gave her an adorable smile as he whispered a single word, “Sheik.”