Mistake (Male Super Jail x reader)

Chapter 19: Welcome to Ultra-Prison . . .

I guess we're dealing with some BDSM freak, a chick with intangible hair that could probably kill a person, a chick with probably a bigger dick than that of the Warden's, and the bitchiest robot I could ever fathom.

Today's going to be great, I can tell.

-

My eyes snapped open as a rough shake jolted awake my character from comatose into proper cognition, my (e/c) irises glimmering in pain. Hissing, I turned my attention to the assailant, a faint growl resonating from the recesses of my jugular. It was those damn chicks!

I quivered lightly, my body held with ease by a male that I did not recognize. I squirmed but to no avail, seeing as the male had me in a vice grip, escape inevitable. I only sighed, letting my body go limp as we were awkwardly hauled to a destination of unknown origins that yet awaited us.

I took this time to survey my surroundings, the hallways quite different than what I was accustomed to. Everything was a light pink, mostly, with some gray accents, which didn't blind me so much than that exuberant yellow hue did. It gave me a migraine just thinking of the Warden's penitentiary, but like I said, it's something you get accustomed to over a prolonged period of time.

"Awake?" a feminine voice queried with a hint of scorn. I looked up apathetically, heeding their question with silence. She didn't expect an answer nor did she get one.

The girl, or say, woman, was deemed as "The Mistress", much like my colleague who was out like a light beside me, entangled in the tendrils of Ultra Prison's finest AI automaton, a human-like unit with a feminine charm. Honestly, it repulsed me but I had to admire the craftsmanship for the convoluted and elegant design, contrary to the more primitive design of Jailbot's. This robotic chick was Nova, who, like most of Ultra Prison's residents, was kind of a bitch. Now, I digress. The Mistress has been quite popular around Super Jail's proletarians for quite some time now and therefore, I'm not lacking when it comes to the knowledge of them, despite my short stay in Super Jail's confines. The Mistress was basically the female equivalent of the Warden but more bitchy and ran a moot prestigious jail. She was the owner and proprietor of said jail, as mentioned numerous times. She is not only strict but she demands utmost perfection among her penitentiary. Man, I hate perfectionists.

So, that's basically it, I guess.

We shuffled along the corridors, an awkward silence hanging heavily in the atmosphere. The Mistress strutted in the front, leader-like, her gloved fingers holding that strange riding crop I assumed was to physically reprimand the convicts of this . . . quaint penitentiary.

Then, after a concise period of time, we stopped and I looked up lethargically, my expression contorted into that of apathy. The Mistress unlatched a door, granted being quite bothersome for her stereotypical feminine strength. However, after a pitiful sight of digression, the door opened with a prominent creak and a dank and uninviting room awaited us. I grunted as I was thrown into room by the male, as the others; a faint 'sorry' uttered from betwixt his lips. I almost pitied the male.

Then, with that, the door shut and everything went black, the only light that invaded the room was from the tiniest of windows set neatly on the very top of the room's wall, opposite of the door. After that, the faint sound of footsteps against the flat, dirtied tile resounded, muffled, as with her laughs of mockery. I hissed.

"Wha- . . ," the voice of the Warden arose, the shuffling of attire apparent. I turned my head to the right, seeing the dim silhouette of his body outlined in the dark residence. I shook my head silently, looking back up to the heavy door before me, wishing somehow that it could be tore off of its hinges, crushed and thrown across the hallway, left there to rot.

Then, I jolted, feeling the gloved hand of the Warden, his expression sympathetic, noting my hopeful gaze.

"Uh, I know this isn't much of a consolation, but maybe we can think of some way out of here? It shouldn't be too hard! Right?" the Warden offered, his optimism prominent. I shrugged, letting out a sigh and turning my body to rest against the wall to the right of the rectangular structure separating our world from there's.

With another sigh, this time from the Warden, he shuffled over towards me, leaning against the wall as I did. With a frown, he leaned against my shoulder, for now, thinking rest was the best thing to do in this situation.

"It's not your fault," I murmured, loosening up my stiff body due to the foreign contact. I huffed before just . . . sitting there. At least, that's all I could do as I was lacking when it came to the will to sleep. This is pitiful and degrading.

Time elapsed, all whilst I thought up of formidable plans for potential scenarios. What was to happen to us?