Pavlovian life
for afril
by geckomancer

Running.
Faster and faster.
Lungs burning.  Muscles aching.
Faster and faster.
The precipice.
One leap of faith.
The wings of my mind unfold.
Pumping. Once. Twice
Rising air filling them.
Soaring.
Freedom.
Clack.
Gunfire?
Clack Clack Clack.
Bullets wiz past my head
Clack clack snap.
Pain.
A rent in my wings.
Air whistling though.
Ripping. Tearing. Wider and wider.
Clack Clack.
Falling and Falling.
Clack Clack thud...

“Wake up you animals”
Light breaks through to my consciousness.
And the cold.
The clacking emanates from the guards baton on the bars of our dank little cages.
I shrug off my tattered blanket.
Insulation is far less effective when you don’t generate any of your own heat.
We begin our morning rituals.
First it’s racking the bunks and beddings back up against the walls.
Then its down on our knees for inspection.
The guards always have their favorites.  Whether it be for punishment or reward.
We can barely move aside from our shivering.
A soft pleading can be heard coming from the cell next to mine.
My eyes meet those of my cellmate’s.
Ts’arak finally broke.
Every one breaks.
It was only a matter of time.
Pride cant warm your failing organs.  The cold always wins.
It’s a wonder we’re still born with pride.

The cold cant be ignored.
Warmth must be found.
A stream of warm urine for your throat.
A warm cock for your lips.
A warm hole to sink your tong into.
A hot shaft in your hole.
Anything

Today I am lucky.
A warm cock is thrust through the bars in front of me.
The strong musk emanating from it turns my thoughts only to holding it inside my mouth for as long as possible.
I couldn’t tell you what a mammal tastes like.  I have tasted nothing like it.  All I can say is that it tastes warm.
With my eyes closed I savor this live giving gift of cock, working my tong around the tip.  Taking it deeper into my mouth.  I can half hear the guard’s string of sexual jeers, humiliating, but warmth is here and now.  I can feel my own shaft fully extended now.  The touch of warmth always gets the best of me.  The guards appreciating grunt is coupled with a new feeling from my groin.  My cellmate must have been denied privilege.  His licks down past my shaft and caresses my balls with his tong.  We share all gifts of warmth this way.
With a loud kupo the guard surrenders his blessedly warm seed to me.
My mate’s lips come up and meet mine to share the hot gift of elixir and we are lost in the moment.
The crash of the cell doors opening breaks our reverie and we file out for showers and our meager repasts.
I wonder what this day will bring?