Free Captive Audience by Chloe Cole

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter One
     
    Michaela Grace stood in front of her bedroom mirror, wincing as she squashed her size 36D breasts into a size 34C minimizing bra. The bra, in the not-quite-white shade of cottage cheese, was a hideous contraption. She guessed it was about as comfortable as could be expected, given that its primary function was to flatten a woman’s breasts into an unflattering uniboob.
    She stepped into a tiny pair of lacy black bikini underwear. Sexy panties were her one indulgence. No one would know, but the small rebellion made her feel a little better, like there was some part of her that was still pretty, even if no one could see it. She quickly pulled on her dark blue shirt and buttoned it, then yanked on the matching navy pants, intentionally purchased two sizes too large. To complete the uniform, she pushed the standard-issue navy blue hat over her long, dark tresses, making sure every tendril was tucked in tight.
    She methodically strapped on her belt, slipped her baton in its holder, and jogged down the stairs, checking her pocket for her badge on the way. Grabbing her keys and slipping into her no-nonsense, thick-soled shoes, she headed out the door.
    Mickey made the fifteen-minute drive, then pulled into a parking space at the Chester County Prison. She checked herself in the rearview mirror one last time, slid on her outdated horn-rimmed nonprescription glasses, and headed inside the large gray building. As she made her way to Block C, she gave a nod and a wave to several of her predominantly male coworkers, who barely spared her a glance. She stepped into the control room as Sergeant Manny Guererra stepped out.
    “Hey Sarge.”
    “Hey yourself, Mick, how’s it going?” he replied with an easy grin.
    “Pretty good. How were the kids today?” she asked, referring to the inmates they supervised. They didn’t usually have too much trouble with the prisoners at Chester County. Most of them were there for parole violations or misdemeanors and were serving short sentences.
    “Quiet, not a lot of action. Hopefully they’ll behave for you tonight. Got one new guy in 742, here for assault. Bar fight. Big fella, but hasn’t given me any trouble so far.” With that, he reached over and handed her the keys to the block. He signed out for the day and she signed in, effectively beginning her eight-hour shift.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be good,” Manny said with a wink and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
    She really liked Manny. He was one of those genuinely nice guys, and he was pushing to have her promoted to sergeant when the next spot opened up.
    Mickey’s father had been a police officer for thirty years before retiring. She hoped to follow in his footsteps by earning a coveted position in the homicide unit. For the time being, she was working as a corrections officer at night and going to grad school during the day to get her master’s in criminal justice. The degree, along with her experience at the prison and, hopefully, her promotion to sergeant, would go a long way toward securing her the career she had always wanted.
    She took a seat, glancing at the cameras. Everything was as it should be. All the inmates were snug in their cells reading, writing letters, or napping. She glanced at the corner camera that gave her a view of cell 742. The new prisoner was on his bunk, lying down with his hands folded behind his head. As she watched, he began to do sit-ups. She pressed a button, zooming in on the image.
    Wow . He was gorgeous. Dark skin, broad shoulders, thighs like the trunks of a tree. She zoomed even closer, biting her lip. He was hard all over, his face tense, and Mickey sat spellbound as he continued doing sit-ups for five full minutes. Her stomach hurt just watching him. His abs must be like stone, she mused.
    The inmate abruptly stopped, sat up, unbuttoned his shirt, and tossed it on the bed. Mickey’s heart began to beat a little faster as she