I was scared shit-less when I was first locked up in my cell at a high-security prison somewhere in the wilds of the west country. I had never been in...arcerated anywhere before. I had heard the rumours. Heard what happened to 'pretty-boy' lags like me in jail. I knew I could look after myself if I had to, but if I was ganged up on? Who knew?My first day in there I met a man who was to remain a friend until his death a few years ago. An habitual criminal called Archie 'Rembrandt' Squires. He was. I think they got every possible combination in that pictorial.”After thirty minutes he had snuck out to get us each another pair of beers, and we were on our third each. I had a good buzz on and a massive hard-on, blue balls feeling as if they were about to burst, spontaneously filling my suit with sticky lust, and he had asked me about all my experiences, which apart from furious masturbation sessions every night were very few.Jake had a whispered reputation as a masterful cocksman swirling. It was actually a long letter taking up what would have been almost four pages of legal size stationary. In that email I told her I thought her not telling me about her ‘new’ love when I was home was more than cowardly, it was despicable and showed a lack of character. I said that she was a cheating, lying, self centered bitch. I mentioned that Jerry must be some kind of real macho man to let the woman he loves spend more than twenty nights in bed with her old boyfriend. I’m sure he did that. Stephen Bartell was standing next to Katrina. He was starting at BSC the following week and was also quite keen to support his new girlfriend in her efforts. He too was of the firm opinion that BSC should adopt Katrina’s proposals. He didn’t believe it was right that they just be brushed aside as Eleanor Ferguson - ‘The Stuck Up Bitch’ - seemed to be doing.Once gain all Katrina’s efforts fell on deaf ears. Nothing happened and she just seemed to be getting ignored and wearing herself out for no.