A shared holding cell

As the heavy cell door swung open, Mark was disappointed to find that he would not be waiting alone. The long room was bare except for the bench running along the length of it, lounging upon which was a heavyset brute of a man, slouched down with a surly expression - he looked like he had been there a while. Mark nodded to him but quickly looked away, moving to the other end of the bench and taking a seat as the door slammed shut behind him with a clanging thud. Even from here Mark could smell the other man's sweat, a rich, masculine scent that lingered in his nostrils unpleasantly. His thoughts raced through his head, always returning to the encounter with the old lady - how could he prove he was innocent? There was definitely evidence that he had been inside her apartment, his shoes alone were proof of that, but... other than that it was just her word against his. Surely they couldn't convict him on that alone?

He was drawn out of his deep thoughts but the powerful body odor of his cellmate suddenly intensifying. Raising his head from his hands he was confronted with the burly giant standing over him, looking down at him menacingly, a sneer on his lips. "What are you in for boy?" he asked, demanded rather, of Mark.

Mark stammered out his response, uncertain what to even call it. "Uh... nothing, really. It was just a misunderstanding..." he managed lamely.

"Misunderstanding huh? Right..." he chuckled. "Well understand this..." he said edging forward slightly before grabbing at his crotch suggestively. "I've been here fuckin hours and I'm fucking bored... you're here to entertain me."

Mark looked up at him wide-eyed and the nature of the threat sunk in as the man reached for his belt, his big, hairy hands unbuckling it and opening his pants, Mark gulped. His cellmate's cock didn't so much flop free of his pants as it unfurled. The thick, long slab of manhood slowly emerging from its confines to straighten out, then stiffen slightly as it pointed straight at Mark. He found himself staring at is, the stench wafting over him an intense mix of sweat, stale urine and other things he didn't want to think about and he leaned himself away from it, back against the wall as hard as he could.

The man chuckled deeply. "Now, now boy... ain't nowhere to run, and ain't nobody watching that at this hour." he spat, gesturing towards a camera in the ceiling with a nod. "So you're gonna be a good little bitch and make me feel good alright? Or else I'm going to take what I want, and it ain't gonna be pretty."

Mark stared at the huge, filthy cock for a moment, the thick dark hairs bristling from its base accentuating the sheer masculinity of the thing and he realised he had to make a choice.