I can tell you this at least, being a parole officer comes with some decent perks. It’s a whole lot easier, for one thing, sitting in an office and just trying to keep guys from going back to prison again–although that can be a challenge in its own way. See, prison is easy, in a lot of ways. You don’t have many choices in prison, and so, when you get out, it can be…paralyzing, for some guys, to try and figure out what to do with yourself. It can leave some of them in a particularly fragile state–and I’m proud to say that my parolees have one of the lowest rates of recidivism in the district. You might say that I know how to give a guy…purpose.
Sure, they can come in here, acting tough, looking like they know how the world works, but I can see what makes them tick, what they’re afraid of. Some of them just need a kind word, and a good push in the right direction, to grow up and be decent people this time around. Others, well, they didn’t end up in prison usually because of something they did. They ended up in prison because they were too weak to say no, or think for themselves, or because they were scared. Those ones are harder, guys like Garrett here–or Spike, as he likes me to call him.
I knew he was going to end up back in prison if I didn’t do something, you see. He was too weak, to easily swayed by the people around him, and the people he was around, they didn’t want what was best for him, not like me. Fuck, one visit to my office, and I barely had to do much more than talk gently to him, and he was out, doing everything I told him to do, just because I could make him feel good. Well, no one has to worry about Spike now, I make sure he won’t be getting into anymore trouble, and he much prefers being my dog, to being a person–you could ask him yourself, if he could talk much anymore.
But being human is behind him. No, he spends his days naked in my house, napping, playing with his toys, waiting by the door for me to come home so we can play together–so I can fuck him, really, because he knows he’s not the alpha in this little pack. No–he’s lucky all the same though, to have a master like me, holding the leash. If he was free, who knows what trouble he’d get himself into?