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if-you-fan-a-fire · 19 days

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"Nevertheless, the system persisted, and without basic changes. For all the public clamor and widespread dissatisfaction, parole survived relatively unscathed. How could failure and unpopularity have had so little impact on the continuity and structure of policy? The answer is to be found, first, in the functions that the program did fulfill for several types of officials within criminal justice. The day-to-day advantages that they gained from administering the system far outweighed (for them) its apparent defects.

The most vigorous champions of parole, those who gained the most from its operation, were the prison wardens. Their support was critical to the survival of the system and it was unwavering, despite some gradual diminution of their authority over parole decisions. Before 1925, wardens dominated the parole boards. They usually served as one of the three members; the meetings were held on their grounds, at the prison; and at least at the start, the inmate’s record of institutional conduct probably counted for most, if for no other reason than as a carry-over from the time when parole was defined as a reward for the good inmate. After the mid-1920’s, however, the parole system built up its own bureaucracy. It became more independent of the department of corrections and moved away from the warden’s direct control. He no longer served on the committee, the final decisions were more frequently made in the state capital, and institutional behavior ranked well behind an inmate’s prior record in importance as a release consideration.

As Warden Lewis Lawes of Sing Sing told a New York investigatory committee:

‘I have never attended a meeting of the Parole Board. I have never been requested to. . . . I did attempt at first to make a good warden’s report and recommendation; but when I found they didn’t read it or pay any attention to it I will admit my efforts became very perfunctory.’

The Wilcox study in Pennsylvania found that “good conduct in prison does not inevitably lead to parole, nor do minor disciplinary infringements always prevent release. Eighty percent of those paroled at the minimum had perfect prison records. But it is also noteworthy that 80 percent of those refused parole had maintained good conduct in prison.” And the Attorney General’s survey cautioned that

Parole should not be used as a device for solving some of the problems of prison administrators. Prison administrators . . . are liable to employ it as a good time regulation or reward rather than as a correctional device.

Nevertheless, wardens had good reasons to continue to support the program and to resolve in their national meetings that parole was “an essential element in protective penology.” Some of them did manage to keep the boards under their sway: in such states as New Hampshire, Connecticut, and New Jersey, the warden still had the most to say about who went out on parole. In many cases, too, a warden could persuade a board to take into account his own prejudices in any one particular instance. Hence, the following dialogue in the Montana parole board meeting:

Case of Fred Albo, a Mexican, was considered. The Clerk read the history. Governor: Hold him I think. Secretary of State: Go to it. Attorney General: It makes no difference if he is a Mexican. Clerk: The Warden hates Mexicans and recommends him. He must be a good man. Governor: All right, don’t hold him.

(One cannot be certain, of course, whether the warden was very impressed by this inmate or whether he simply wanted to get rid of a noxious Mexican.)

More important, whatever the boards assumptions about the significance of the prior record, the warden could thwart the opportunity for release for any especially troublesome inmate. Boards would not pay attention to minor infractions or necessarily release someone who minded his own business inside. However, the inmate who was far out of line would suffer, and wardens as well as convicts understood this. Wardens, or their principal keepers, were very often present throughout board deliberations; but at any rate it was they who made up the dockets and so they had ample opportunity to tell the board about the bad cases. In Pennsylvania, for instance, the inmate who “carried coffee from the mess hall, cursed an officer, refused to enter his cell, and stole and drank shellac,” did not win release at the minimum. In effect, wardens had a veto power, and their ability to blackball was sufficient to serve their own disciplinary ends well.

“Complex and difficult as is prison management under the best conditions,” insisted one Indiana official, “it would be immediately more difficult without the parole law. The prisoner looks upon the parole as the reward for good conduct and steady industry and does his best to earn it.” Or, as Pennsylvania’s Wilcox concluded: “The power possessed by the state under parole laws . . . provides penal administrators with a club which is even more effective than the old ‘good time’ laws in inducing internal discipline. Prison managers generally favor parole for this reasons.

Moreover, wardens found themselves locked into the system once it was in operation. They were compelled to favor its perpetuation for the critical reason that any talk of a diminution in the availability of parole (let alone its outright abolition) provoked substantial inmate hostility - and wardens did not enjoy suppressing riots. Under indeterminate sentences, any effort to restrict parole had to mean significant increases in time served. Almost invariably, then, wardens were eager to see more and more paroles granted to keep peace among the inmates. Joseph Moore, chairman of the New York State Board of Parole, complained that wardens were directing inmates’ anger at parole boards and away from themselves. “The Parole Board finds it advisable to hold a large percentage of prisoners beyond their eligibility for release and we have abundant evidence that prison officials disapprove of this. Unfortunately, this feeling whether purposely or not is conveyed to the prisoners and it is permitted to be a general idea among them that so far as the prisons are concerned they would be glad to release them but the hard-boiled Parole Board holds them up.”

In much the same way, the warden of the penitentiary in Washington State kept up a running battle with parole board members. Because they were (in his view) too strict about release, his own job of preserving good order was more difficult. In fact, the warden “usually placed about five or ten men on the Docket who had served a long time, but who had no present chance for release. Why? Because when a ‘con’ has put in a lot of time and is denied any chance for a hearing before the Board, resentment occurs, and if there is enough of that, trouble occurs inside.” That same warden resisted all efforts to abolish parole for three-time losers: “Such prisoners could not be controlled . . . [and prison administration would be impossible.” The warden of the Illinois State Penitentiary at Stateville, to choose one case from many, knew the truth of that argument first-hand: in 1937, responding to a newspaper crusade, the parole board cut back on releases (granting only 3 from 274 applications), and in short order the warden had to contend with a hunger strike. Or, to turn the point around, the warden at Charlestown, Massachusetts, consistently recommended parole “because he expected it to improve discipline. He proved correct in his anticipation as there has not been a riot or outbreak in State Prison since parole went into effect.” In sum, the wardens were parole’s warmest friends. They supported the system and were eager to keep the numbers granted parole as high as possible - always excepting that cult case which had to be made into an object lesson.

Legislative committees investigating parole found the wardens’ conclusions not only well-taken but almost unanswerable. No matter how critical they were of one or another part of the system, they were reluctant to restrict release procedures for fear of undercutting prison officials’ power. The New York Crime Commission, a tough group with little good to say for parole, moved very cautiously for fear of disturbing the wardens’ authority. Not only the wardens but representatives of the state parole board took pains to inform the Commission just how critical parole was to discipline. “It is your opinion,” Senator Caleb Baumes, the chairman of the Commission, asked the head of the parole board, “that you create and maintain a better morale, if you please, amongst the prisoners generally, if they know that system is in vogue?” To which the chairman replied: “Absolutely.” The Commission accepted the argument, and as eager as some of its members were to abrogate the board’s right to release inmates immediately at the minimum, they did not dare do so. “If you tell 3,000 men in the prison,” concluded one of the most law-and-order-minded members of the Commission,

that they are likely to be held from months to five or six years more, you will make a hell on earth of every prison in the State. . . .3000 men expect . . . from all the years of practice by the Parole Board . . . that they will be released at the end of the minimum, and if you tell them that now it is likely or probable that their time will be extended beyond the minimum . . . they are going to insurge and feel vicious, and you can not blame them, no matter how heinous was their original offense.

His conclusion was clear: “If we are to go ahead on any rough and ready method of extending sentences and taking that definite hope away from them, the consequences will be extreme.” True, public opinion (and his own instincts as well) would prefer to “make them serve indefinitely.” But “we cannot do it without smashing prison discipline.” It was this kind of reasoning that helped to preserve parole, no matter how poor its reputation or inadequate its practice.

- David J. Rothman, Conscience and Convenience: The Asylum and Its Alternatives in Progressive America. Revised Edition. New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 2002 (1980), p. 183-187.

Image is from the Handbook of the New York Reformatory at Elmira, showing the parole board finishing a meeting and releasing an inmate - on the left hand side. c. 1916.

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newsbites · 11 months

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News from NL, Canada, 8 June

Convicted killer Brian Doyle has been granted more freedom by the National Parole Board despite concerns over his evasive answers during the hearing.

Doyle had previously allowed an innocent man to go to jail for his crime and had broken release conditions on his first attempt at parole.

The victim's son expressed concern for the community where Doyle may end up and believes he should be under stricter watch.

2. The skyline in Placentia Bay, NL looks a little different these days following the completion of the slip form operation on the West White Rose project.

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This added 92.35 metres to the existing project structure, bringing it to a height of 139.2 metres. The slip form took 69 days, working 24/7, and used 8,000 cubic metres of concrete – the equivalent of three Olympic sized swimming pools!

3. Three individuals have been arrested and charged in connection with seven break-ins in St. Anthony.

The trio was identified by the public and alleged to have been involved in five break-ins in a week.

Dominick Igloliorte faces multiple charges including break and enter, theft, and mischief, while the other two face charges of break and enter and breach of probation, and theft and mischief.

4. Water bomber pilots in Newfoundland and Labrador are facing a staffing crunch with the lowest staffing levels in the province's history.

The shortage of pilots is having far-reaching impacts as neighbouring provinces rely on their assistance during disasters.

Despite government accolades, the pilots are urging politicians to address the staffing issue, as they currently only have enough pilots to operate on a full-time basis with just three pilots.

5. The regulated price of gas has decreased by up to 5.2 cents a litre and there is a break on diesel, furnace oil, and propane in Newfoundland.

6. The Bank of Canada has raised its key lending rate by 0.25 percentage points.

7. Smoke from wildfires in Canada has caused air quality alerts across multiple US states, highlighting the threat of harmful microscopic particles to people's health even hundreds of miles away from fire sites.

Western Canada's dozens of fires have prompted some oil production to be curtailed, impacting the region's economy.

8. The Newfoundland and Labrador Housing Corp. has issued a request for proposals for the creation of new affordable homes in the province’s rental market.

9. The Folk Arts Society has announced the lineup for this year's Music @ Concert Series in St. John's, featuring 16 concerts across three venues over three months.

10. NL Pet Expo is taking place in Mount Pearl this weekend.

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darealprisonart · 2 years

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Why Black August is a Month-long Event

On the 50th in memoriam anniversary to George Jackson, The King of Prison Hip Hop smartly explains why Black August is a month-long event. August 21, 1971, George Lester Jackson, aka George Jackson, was martyred. His slain blood represents the price he was willing to pay in the cause for freedom against oppression. I approach this 50th in memoriam anniversary of his passing by looking back from…

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 1 year

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Texas Governor Greg Abbott said on Saturday he is seeking the pardon of an Uber driver convicted of murder a day earlier in the July 2020 shooting death of a man at a Black Lives Matter protest in downtown Austin, the state capital.

Abbott, in a post on Twitter, said he will pardon Daniel Perry, 37, a U.S. Army sergeant, as soon as a request from the parole board "hits my desk."

The Republican Governor noted that he can grant pardons only on the recommendation of the state's Board of Pardons and Paroles, but that he is allowed to request pardons.

The case hinged on whether the shooting was in self-defense. A jury found on Friday that Perry, who is white, shot and killed Garrett Foster, a 28-year-old white man, who was carrying an AK-47, according to the Austin American-Statesman newspaper.

Perry was driving in the city the night of the shooting and turned his Uber vehicle onto a street where a Black Lives Matter crowd was marching, according to media. Perry stopped, and several protesters including Foster approached his vehicle. Protesters told police that they feared they were being assaulted with the vehicle, according to media accounts.

Perry's defense team claimed the weapon was leveled at him and he had no choice but to fire his pistol in self-defense, the newspaper reported. Neither of Perry's attorneys was immediately available for comment by phone or email.

Perry was convicted of murder after the jury deliberated for 17 hours in the eight-day trial, according to media accounts.

“I will work as swiftly as Texas law allows regarding the pardon of Sgt. Perry,” Abbott wrote on Twitter.

“Texas has one of the strongest ‘Stand your ground’ laws of self-defense that cannot be nullified by a jury or progressive district attorney," he said. "Additionally, I have already prioritized reining in rogue District Attorneys, and the Texas Legislature is working on laws to achieve that goal."

Jose Garza, the district attorney for Travis County, where the case was tried and where Austin is located, is a Democrat, and has been in office since Jan. 1, 2021.

When the verdict was read, Perry buried his head into the chest of one of his lawyers and sobbed, the Austin-American Statesman reported.

“We’re happy with the verdict. We’re very sorry for his family as well. There’s no winners in this,” said Stephen Foster, the victim’s father, according to the newspaper.

Perry faces life in prison and is due to be sentenced by State District Court Judge Clifford Brown on Tuesday, according to online court records for the 147th District Court in Travis County, Texas.

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milkmaidovich · 9 months

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My lust for you will always be the same

between the tall trees of the park

with my body half covered by the sand of the shore

or in the crowd of the busy city

I hold myself back in anticipation

of giving in to you

in inappropriate places

—Norah Hussein, Inappropriate Places

#gallavich feels #Mickey milkovich coded #au where Mickey starts doing poetry in prison because of a person who came to do a workshop or some shit #and it looks good for the parole board if he does all the stupid shit #and then suddenly he’s into it and processing all his feelings through poetry

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theauthorlives · 8 months

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OOC: One nice thing about my job is that I can listen to things on my phone. I'm listening to a true crime podcast that's gone in-depth about the parole board and...

I'm remembering the fact that, even though Y.ancy applied for parole in Space, the odds are SUPER stacked against him. Despite everything he's done in prison to reform himself and better himself, he's got a lot weighed up against him in terms of his prior criminal record and danger as a violent person; and all this is not considering the possibility that his own family would object to his release on account of him hurting another.

When it comes to his parole on this blog there are some factors that go into account. For instance, he can't move to a state where any of his family (direct or extended) live, and he probably can't move out of the state he's in without a LOT of hoop jumping and paperwork. I've also considered the idea of an ankle GPS tracker as well as regular sign-ins with his parole officer. And, most importantly, if he's shipped off the planet, they won't object. That's just as helpful as a death sentence (similar to how the Irish used to be exported to Australia as prisoners).

... I may need to try applying this level of overthinking to the end of my work shift today...

#(obviously I know things aren't accurate because him getting the chance to apply for parole after a double murder #when only serving eight years is highly unlikely)#(most of the cases I've heard are closer to 20/25 years before the option comes up)#(at the same time I'm making sure there isn’t an innate babying of my boy by having it as a guarantee)#(he definitely failed first time; unless it's a setting where he’s immediately boarding the Invincible)#yancyheadcanon #on the tablet

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denizens-of-zophos · 4 months

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#child killer jon venables fight parole board decision jail james bulgers father mental torture

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ur-mag · 5 months

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James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing | In Trend Today

James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

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#Celebrities #James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #UK #US #World

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 3 years

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“BURWASH FARM AIMS TO REFORM,” Owen Sound Sun Times. January 8, 1921. Page 4. --- MEN WORK CLOSE TO NATURE - 480 PRISONERS LUMBERING AND FARMING NEAR SUDBURY ---- J. J. Middleton, M. B. D. P. H., in an article in the Toronto Star Weekly says:

Burwash is a settlement about thirty miles from Sudbury, and to the visitor appears as a huge Industrial farm cleared out of dense. woods Burwash, however, a much more than that It is an idea. Its 35.000 acres have behind them a conception that man is not naturally depraved and that environment means much. This idea works on the assumption that any errings from the path of rectitude may be corrected by taking the wanderer away for a time. from the strangles and temptations of modern city life into close contact with mother nature and helpful, rest-giving surroundings. Burwash cannot help but be a success because, the idea on which it is founded is right.

At present there are about four hundred and eighty prisoners or inmates at the Burwash Industrial Farm They are sentenced for terms varying from three months to two years less a day. In many cases the prisoners are first offenders, ordinary citizens up till then, with perhaps light kink in their moral make. up That these men are not much different from average human beings is evidenced by the fact that about seventy per of them "trusted" given freedom that old-time prison officials would never have dreamed of.

Seldom do the inmates have serious quarrels among themselves. In only one instance does the present superintendent of the Farm remember prisoners fighting, and that, strangely enough was when two men came to blows over a horse which one of the combatants declared the other had ill-treated: this charge the latter stoutly denied. Indeed, one has only to visit the stables to see what interest the men must take in looking after the horses forty-five of the finest animals one could wish for, all carefully groomed and in first-class condition.

A resident physician attends to the general health of the prisoners, and in addition the Provincial Board of Health sends up a clinical specialist from Toronto at regular intervals to examine and treat the men for venreal disease.

In planning prison reform there are two viewpoints largely affected by the severity of the prisoner's office One is to provide facilities for teaching younger prisoners a trade, and for the older ones to "carry an a some familiar occupation,

The other is to bring the prisoners in touch with nature, to have them work in the folds or in the woods, to give their tired and perhaps sometimes distorted mind a res: far removed from city influences.

It in on the latter viewpoint that the Burwash idea hinges, and last year the prisoners took out from the Farm woods 1,000,000 feet of lumber valued at $60,000. This lumber is used for the building and extension at various public institutions in the Province. Potatoes and other vegetable are grown on nearly 100 acres. All the work is done by the prisoners who work ten hours a day in summer, with Saturday afternoons off after 3 pm The weekly bath is arranged for Saturday afternoons where work is finished. In winter the working day is during the hours of daylight, Although under restraint in the respect that their quarters have locked doors and barred windows, the prisoners are provided with indoor attractions, including a good gymnasium and a piano.

A visit to the Industrial Farm in extremely interesting. Recently I went there in company with another. doctor, and at the railway station about a mile and a half from the Farm, we were met by a horse and buggy in charge of a young man whom, I afterwards learned, was a prisoner; there was no restraint apparent, however, nor could anyone tell that our driver was not an ordinary individual from the local livery stable. We had breakfast at the Farm, all the waiters being prisoners, and yet they were extremely obliging and cheerful. The meals served were excellent, and showed a capable che was in charge of the kitchen, even if he was not for the time being a freeman. The cooking arrangements are superintended by a lady dietitian, one of the Farm officials.

There is a sawmill, which is always busy. The work of planing, making sashes and doors-in fact, all the fine features of the building trade are carried on.

The prisoners have Just built a fin schoolhouse on a site which a few weeks ago was a dense forest. The teacher arranges for concerts and athletic sports.

Trusted men are given many privileges that the less trustworthy do not enjoy. For instance there is a big herd of over 300 cattle which roam the spacious territory that the farm includes, Chosen prisoners go away all day with the cattle taking lunch with them. Seldom do any of them escape.

The temptation to escape is, how ever, reduced to a minimum, as non of the outside influences that might distract the attention of the prisoners can very well penetrate the fifty mile of surrounding bush.

Complaints have been heard regarding the treatment handed out to prisoners. One can rest assured that any breach of discipline is dealt with justly, but no hardships are tolerated. If any individual guard should be reported as treating a prisoner with cruelty the case is investigated at once.

Some of the prisoners also complain of the lack of trades taught at the Farm, the greater part of the work being farming and lumbering This is the definite foundation of the Burwash idea - to keep men who have received short sentences at outdoor work among natural surrounding. The length of sentence would not allow enough time to carry out sufficient training in any of the skilled trades. The Parole Hoard is an important feature in prison reform work at this institution. If a man is paroled, all efforts are made to get employment for him, sometimes done through private employers.

The Board consists of a committee of gentlemen who have judiciary powers as to whether a prisoner is eligible to be given his freedom on parole. It includes Hamilton Cassells, K.C. chairman: G. Y. Chown, registrar of Queen's University, Kingston; Mr. Miller Toronto: Col. Noel Marshall; W. W. Dunlop, Inspector of Prisons.

In leaving the institution on parole, Burwash inmates have the services it the Parole Officer, who at present Dr. Lavalle. This officer, who is servant of the hours, keeps in touch with Salvation Army and social workers and industrial concerns

#burwash industrial farm #sudbury #northern ontario #prison farm #prison camp #minimum security institution #department of reform institutions #convict labour #parole board #short term prisoners #penal reform #ontario prisons #carceral propaganda #history of crime and punishment in canada #crime and punishment in canada

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starlightseraph · 3 months

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house md will always be remebered as the most insane thing ever broadcast because of how unabashedly feral everyone involved was.

a short collection of things that happen on the show, just off the top of my head, not even scratching the surface:

- house shoots a random dead body in the morgue and then sticks him in an mri machine, which pulls the bullet out of the dead guy’s head and destroys the machine, costing the hospital millions

- foreman gets bitten by a person with rabies

- chase kills an african dictator

- cameron steals drugs from a patient after possibly getting hiv from said patient

- house induces a migraine and then takes a drug made by his arch nemesis (who he’s been stalking for 25 years) to get the drug taken off the market. he then takes lsd (in the hospital, in the middle of a case) to cure the migraine.

- chase goes into anaphylaxis after doing body shots

- house stops an elevator so he can perform a cavity (vaginal) search on a teenage heart transplant patient who’s in cardiorespiratory arrest

- they give a neurosurgeon mushrooms to cure his food poisoning, then they stick him in an operating room. the neurosurgeon strips in front of a health board assessor.

- kutner dies for gay marriage

- house sets an autopsy room on fire while trying to juggle flaming bottles

- house gets recruited by the cia

- taub gets held at gun point after diagnosing a stripper with skin cancer

- in almost every single episode, the team breaks into multiple houses

- house fakes terminal brain cancer so he can get drugs implanted directly into the pleasure centre of his brain

- house cons us immigration to get his fake wife a green card. he also uses his fake wife’s ukrainian food truck to spy on people

- house tries to get wilson, his closet case boybestfriend, into bed every few episodes. every other sentence out of house’s mouth is about wanting to rail wilson.

- taub has a kid with his ex-wife, after they divorce, at the same time he has a kid with his 25 yo side piece. the kids’ names are sophie and sophia.

- house and wilson have a bet on who can hide a chicken in the hospital the longest without anyone finding out

- house tries to kill himself like 6 times and always fails (insulin shock, overdoses, electrocution, jumping off a building, cutting, etc)

- house fakes his death to get out of a prison sentence after violating his parole so he can live out his bi love story with his gay best friend who has 5 months to live

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calparolelawyer · 10 months

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Understanding Three Strikes Law and the Role of a Three Strikes Parole Attorney

In California, the Three Strikes Law was enacted to impose harsher sentences on individuals with multiple felony convictions. While the law aims to enhance public safety, it can also result in disproportionately severe penalties. Thankfully, the role of a skilled Three Strikes Parole Attorney is crucial in navigating the complexities of the system and advocating for individuals seeking parole under the law. One such experienced parole lawyer in California is found at www.calparolelawyer.com.

Exploring the Three Strikes Law:

The Three Strikes Law stipulates that if an individual has two prior serious or violent felony convictions, their third felony offense will result in a mandatory prison term of 25 years to life. This law was enacted to deter repeat offenders and protect society from habitual criminals.

The Role of a Three Strikes Parole Attorney:

A Three Strikes Parole Attorney specializes in parole representation for individuals facing lengthy prison sentences under the Three Strikes Law. These attorneys possess an in-depth understanding of the law and leverage their expertise to navigate the complex parole process.

A Youthful Offender Parole Attorney:

For youthful offenders, who committed their offenses before the age of 26, a Youthful Offender Parole Attorney is instrumental in seeking parole eligibility. These attorneys are well-versed in advocating for youthful offenders, emphasizing their potential for rehabilitation and arguing for a second chance.

Conclusion:

The Three Strikes Law has had a significant impact on California's criminal justice system. However, it is essential to recognize that individuals sentenced under this law still have opportunities for parole. A skilled Three Strikes Parole Attorney, such as the professionals found at www.calparolelawyer.com, can help navigate the intricate parole process, increasing the chances of successful reentry into society. By understanding the intricacies of the law and employing their expertise, these attorneys play a vital role in advocating for fairness, justice, and the potential for rehabilitation.

#California parole hearing attorney #California parole hearing lawyer #California Youthful Offender Parole #Non-violent parole hearing attorney #Non-Violent parole review lawyer #Parole Lawyers in California #SB260 and SB261 Lawyer #three strikes parole attorney #three strikes parole lawyer #Youthful Offender Parole #youthful offender parole attorney #youthful offender parole lawyer #Youthful Offender Parole Board #prop 57 parole attorney

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cyarsk52-20 · 1 year

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roosterforme · 6 months

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The Younger Kind Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is finally happy, and he knows it's because of you. The way you want to try new things with him in bed makes him feel wild. And the way you love his son makes him feel calm. But when you read a piece of mail before he's ready for you to see it, your reaction has him feeling something new.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, anal sex, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley anxiously awaited for his appointment with Tracy to begin. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she asked him to stop by on his way home from work, but he was here now. And he had his checkbook with him.

"I owe you some money," he said when she finally called him back.

"Sure, but we have other things to talk about," she said, ushering him over to her conference table while she opened up a Red Bull.

His stomach lurched. "It is about Meredith? Is it bad?" He was finally starting to be able to enjoy every day he spent with you and Noah. He didn't have to worry about things constantly, because you were happy to help him with his son and his house. When he got home with Noah the other day, you were changing that lightbulb on the front porch that he'd been meaning to get to. And you kept trying to help him pay his mortgage.

"Yes, it's about Meredith. Just have a seat."

Bradley sat and looked at her expectantly. "Has she been released or something? Do I need to call my girl?"

"No, no," she said, waving him off as she took a sip. "She's been sentenced."

Now Bradley's heart was really pounding. Tracy had told him that Meredith would most likely get five to fifteen years for the fraud charges. Five would be devastating, simply because Noah would still be a minor when she was released. Fifteen would be ideal. Noah would be over eighteen and a legal adult. A fight for custody or money would be a moot point. And well, if Bradley had another child with you, that would have nothing legally to do with his ex at all.

"Please tell me this is good, Tracy. I just want to solidify my life right now exactly as it is. No more messing around with protective orders and broken windows. My kid is happy, and I am happy."

She smiled and said, "You're about to get even happier. Fifteen years."

Bradley was out of his seat with his fist in the air immediately. "Hell yes! Any chance at parole?" he asked.

"There's always a chance. We'll keep an eye on things."

She and he talked for a bit after that, and he felt his body ease back comfortably in the seat. Bradley wrote out a check and left it with Tracy, and then she handed him a folder full of information on adopting a stepchild in California. And a second folder with a preliminary copy of his updated will.

When he got home with his checkbook in his hand, he found you and Noah in the kitchen, and both of you were wearing more peanut butter than the carrots on the cutting board in front of you were. But you were laughing, and so was he, and the house smelled like dinner was cooking.

"I'm home," Bradley said from the kitchen doorway, and you spun in surprise.

"Hi, Daddy," you said as you rushed for him with your messy hands held out at your sides. "You're already done with Tracy?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss you as Noah brought him ants on a log. "Fifteen years," he murmured, and you leaned in for another kiss with a soft, pleased laugh.

"Really?"

"We can talk more later," he said, keeping one arm around your waist as he lifted Noah up and opened his mouth for the messy carrot stick. He kissed Noah while he chewed and then said, "Thanks, Bub. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. We did a puppet show," he said before squirming out of Bradley's arm to go make a bigger mess. And that left Bradley holding you and his checkbook.

"Casey asked me to say hi to you when I picked Noah up," you whispered with a little grin on your face as you reached for the checkbook. "I told her I would if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged this evening."

Bradley snorted. "You didn't."

"I did," you confirmed, waving his checkbook in the air between two fingers before tossing it onto the counter. "Who are you writing checks to, old man? I already told you, everyone uses payment apps."

"Tracy," he said. "I'm pretty sure she's older than me."

"Nobody is older than you, Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley took your wrists and guided both of your hands to his mouth. He watched your lips part silently as he licked the healed scar on your palm before sucking your thumb into his mouth. You squeaked as he cleaned the peanut butter from each of your fingers individually as you stepped a little closer to him.

"Who you calling old?" he asked before kissing your palm and squeezing your hip. He made a show of switching to the other hand as you rubbed your core against the front of his pants. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned for him. "Shh," he scolded. "Behave."

But you were only wearing thin scrub pants, and Bradley didn't actually want you to behave. One glance at Noah proved that he was absorbed with emptying a large canister of raisins onto the counter, so Bradley finished with your hand and then palmed both of your butt cheeks at the same time. He squeezed, really enjoying the feel of you as he whispered, "Are you wearing it?"

"No," you gasped. "I just got home from work!"

Bradley shrugged. "You've been wearing it around the past few days. Here and there."

You glanced at Noah over your shoulder before you whispered, "It makes me horny. I can't wear it to work! I'll get fired!"

Bradley chuckled and then he tightened his grip on your ass and said, "Go put it in."

Your teeth immediately sank into your lip. "Now?"

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Like my good girl."

You scampered off to the bedroom, saying, "Take the casserole out of the oven," as you went.

---------------------------

You knew to take your time with your silicone plug now. Use lots of lube and relax. As soon as you finished inserting it, you were practically moaning for Bradley to put his cock in your pussy. You were kind of addicted to the way it felt when he and the toy were both inside you at the same time. With a few deep breaths, you eased your underwear and your scrub pants back up your legs and made your way back to the kitchen.

Bradley and Noah were sitting at the table with the casserole dish, and when you met your boyfriend's eyes, he was grinning. "Well?" he asked, reaching for your hand.

"You know it, Daddy," you replied, and even though you weren't trying to, your voice took on a needy edge.

He grunted softly, his eyes half lidded now as he patted the chair next to him. Noah was already eating his dinner, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice the way Bradley was looking at you like you were for dessert. You eased yourself onto the seat and whimpered softly as Bradley leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips.

"I love you, Baby," he murmured before brushing your cheek with his nose. "I can't wait to take you to the lake house next weekend. We'll pack your little toy."

He started kissing along your neck, and you didn't think you'd make it through dinner at this rate. Your nipples were hard, and he was barely even touching you. Desperate for a distraction, you tried to reach for the casserole without rolling your hips too much.

"Daddy?" Noah asked. "Can we get a dog?"

"A dog?" Bradley asked, his attention shifting slightly from you to his son. "I already got you a Mommy, isn't that enough?" You snorted with laughter, but Noah was undeterred.

"I want a dog."

"Noah, if we get a dog, somehow it will end up being my responsibility. Maybe when you're older," Bradley said. But he was pouting, and he looked like he was going to cry.

"Daddy," you whined softly with a little grin. "I always wanted a dog, too."

Now Bradley was looking back and forth between you and Noah, before settling on you. "Are you really going to do this to me right now? You could probably get away with murder at the moment, Princess."

"Isn't that always the case?" you asked sweetly as you shifted a bit in your seat and served yourself some dinner.

Bradley groaned and held his forehead in his hand. "Can we talk about this later?" he begged, glancing at you between his fingers. But you were busy smiling at his son.

"We'll work on it, okay sweet Noah?" you whispered.

"Okay," Noah agreed softly before he started eating again.

But teasing Bradley about the dog definitely backfired on you later on the couch. Noah wanted to watch a Disney movie, so Bradley sat in the middle of the couch with your head resting on one thigh and Noah's on the other. The Princess and the Frog was playing, because Bradley insisted you deserved a princess movie. And everything was perfect. His hand was heavy on your side, stroking you through your clothing in the most delicious way.

When the movie was nearly finished, Bradley murmured, "Noah's asleep," as his hand skimmed along your hip. Then inch by inch, his fingers worked their way along your butt until he was cupping you with one big hand. Then you felt him prod you through your clothing, running one long finger across the base of your toy.

"Fuck," he grunted as he very gently pressed it further into you. Full. You were so full. After days of wearing it for an hour here and there, you thought maybe you were ready for more.

You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder and wiggled against his hand. The way he slowly shook his head and licked his lips made you feel like you were in control of this. But you supposed you always were. Then he eased his hand up to your lower back and teased at the waistband of your pants and underwear before dipping it inside.

Rough skin on yours had your eyes fluttering closed. "Look at me, Baby," he whispered, and you clenched for him. "Look at me while I touch you."

You did as you were told, but he subtly let you know you were still in charge. His brown eyes were sincere and open as he cupped your rear end, moving the plug incrementally. Pushing, pulling, tugging and teasing. When you whimpered, he pushed his fingers forward to your pussy.

"Daddy," you gasped as he pushed his rough fingers through your folds.

He spanked your pussy lightly until you were afraid you'd start getting loud. "Go get yourself in bed," he instructed. Then he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. When you rolled onto your belly, your cheek and hand rubbed against his cock in his pants. "I'll come take care of you in a minute."

"Yes, Daddy." You kissed Noah's cheek and then leaned down to taste yourself on Bradley's lips. Then you ran into the bedroom and tossed all of your clothing into the hamper, replacing all of it with a new matching bra and thong you paid for with his credit card. "Damn it," you whined. The toy was making you squirm for release, and you were half tempted to touch yourself. You were nervous, but only slightly, because you knew Bradley would do whatever you told him to. So you grabbed the lube from your drawer and settled onto your beautiful, new bed.

--------------------------

Shit. You were already touching yourself when Bradley walked into the bedroom. Black lingerie, your purple plug peeking out, and you on your back with your fingers in your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. You looked so young and innocent, even with your ass full of that toy. Bradley couldn't believe the words he was about to speak out loud. "Will you let me fuck you in the ass?"

Wide eyed and writhing around on your back on the bed, you nodded at him. "Yes." He was determined to do this just right. He never wanted to hurt you. He always wanted you to feel good when you were with him. Carefully he removed his jeans and joined you on the bed with his cock hard in his briefs.

"You've been teasing me with that toy all night," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips and pulling away so you'd chase him for more. "Time to see if you can handle something a little bigger."

You whined for him as he kissed down your body. "You're a lot bigger," you gasped when he nibbled on you through your bra. "You'll go slow?"

Bradley hummed against your skin, stretching up to kiss your neck. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. And if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Okay," you whispered. "Just go slow."

He could hear the slight edge of apprehension in your voice, so he took your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. He wanted to be sure this was a good type of nervous, not a bad one. "You are under no obligation to do this, Princess. You already give me more than enough."

"I know," you replied, meeting his lips with yours.

But he pulled back and forced you to look him in the eye. "Tell me one more time that this is what you want. And tell me that you trust me."

You nibbled on your lip before you said, "I always trust you. And I want to try this. Now make me feel good."

Bradley was grinning as he slipped his hand down your belly and tucked it inside your black underwear. The swirl of his fingers on your clit had you gasping, and soon he pulled your underwear off. You were already wet when he put his mouth on you, and then Bradley thought about edging you to make you squirt for him. But your fingers were rough in his hair, and he knew he would be too far gone to be as gentle as possible if he did that. So he took his time, burying his nose and mouth in your sweet pussy, and licking you everywhere until you came for him. Then he licked all around that plug and admired the tight pucker of your hole wrapped around it.

"Fuck," he gasped, placing a kiss to your inner thigh. He was going to find out just how tight you were. As you rode the little jolts of pleasure still going through your body, Bradley carefully wrapped his arms around your back and got you onto all fours. "Try it like this?" he asked, caging your body in beneath his.

Your words were a little incoherent as you bucked back against him, and he could feel the base of your toy against his cock through his underwear. Oh hell, he needed to pull himself together. He needed something familiar to calm himself down. Bradley unclasped your bra and pressed his chest to your back, watching the strap slide down your arm. Your hips were rocking back, and he moved in unison with you, planting his left hand on the bed and rubbing your tits with his right.

He kissed along your spine and moaned, "You'll put me in an early grave, I swear it." Your soft giggle had him dragging his lips along your shoulder until he was kissing your neck. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered, and it was the sweetest thing. So Bradley stood on his knees behind you, admiring the way you and that toy looked as he spread your legs wide. When he slid his underwear down, his cock bounced up to tap you, nudging the plug and making you groan. He didn't know how this was going to work as he pumped his hand along his girth before slipping himself into your pussy. And that was the familiar thing he needed, clearing his mind as you whined, "I feel so full. My toy and my Daddy."

Bradley smirked and rubbed himself against the base as held your hips. "Just wait," he warned playfully. The pretty curve of your back had him running his hand up and everywhere along your silky skin. Your hair smelled like wildflowers when he kissed your back. And then you were begging him to do it.

He reached for the lube and drizzled it all over you before coating his cock liberally. Then he fucked your pussy with steady strokes as he carefully eased the toy out of you as you gasped. Your perfect hole gripped along the plug, and Bradley had to count to ten to calm himself down. "Baby," he groaned, tossing the toy aside. "You ready?"

"Yes."

His cock was shiny and slick, resting on his palm, and then he was pressing himself to your asshole, convinced you were going to tell him to stop. You were so tight, he had to bite down on his lip as he pushed. And then you were whining, "More. More," as you squeezed the tip of him so much, he was afraid he'd black out.

"Princess," he growled, head tipped back as he pushed slowly. So slowly. He was dizzy from it, the slow pace driving him to the edge. "So tight. Holy hell." And then you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes were glazed over with need, and your lips were parted softly.

"Feels good," you gasped, and he reached out to run his thumb along your lip. You kissed him. You were perfect. He pushed himself a little deeper, and you kissed his thumb again. He looked down to see himself buried inside you as you licked his thumb.

"God damn it," he cursed, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He dipped his thumb into your mouth and whispered, "I can't last like this. Too fucking good. So tight." He was shaking his head, but you were nodding and swirling your tongue along his thumb. He withdrew an inch and thrust, and you started keening.

If Bradley managed even ten strokes inside your ass, it was a miracle. He went slowly, but it was too much. And you were loud, spurring him on with his thumb tucked between your lips and pressed to your tongue.

Every time you tightened around him, he knew he was going to cum. He was just biding his time for a few more seconds, and then it was too much. He tried to keep his movements steady and fluid as he came inside you, but they were a little jerky. He was grunting your name over and over, trying to get himself under control. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice rough as he slipped his thumb out of your mouth.

"Mmm, yes," you moaned. "It only hurt a little, and then it felt good."

Bradley brought both hands to your hips and stroked you as he started to gently withdraw from your body. And then his jaw went slack as you were puckered around his tip. It was going to look so pretty, he just knew it.

"Baby," he whined when he pulled himself free. His white cum was at your opening, and he watched that first droplet as it slid down to your pussy and dripped onto the bed. You were oozing with his finish, and he was transfixed.

You said his name and made to roll over, but Bradley kept you still with his big hands on your thighs. "Shh," he coaxed as another long drop fell to the bed. And then he licked you clean as you mewled and whimpered. He lapped up every bit of his cum as it leaked out of you, and he cleaned up your pussy as well.

"Bradley," you whispered as he gently rolled you to your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled on top of you, careful to keep his full body weight from hurting you. The fucked out, exhausted expression on your face made him smile.

"You did so good, Baby."

"I know," you agreed. "I liked it."

His lips were ghosting over yours as he asked, "Do you need anything? Want me to get a shower ready for us?"

"In a couple minutes," you replied easily. And then Bradley rolled you both to your sides and snuggled you against him with one big hand on your ass.

---------------------------

You were just trying to get through your day at work on Thursday. You just needed to make it to Friday morning when the three of you would be driving up to the lake house to meet Mav, Penny and Amelia. But two of your coworkers were out sick, and you had to pick up all the slack. You even had to text Bradley and let him know you wouldn't be able to pick Noah up or start dinner.

Bradley Daddy Bradshaw: Take your time. I'll make sandwiches for dinner. See you at home.

Once you had all of the exam rooms cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Kelly found you and said, "Go home. Enjoy your long weekend with your family. That little Noah is the cutest thing."

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, he knows he's adorable. It's getting to be a problem. See you next week."

Then you made your way to your car and thought about how you and Noah were most definitely going to wear Bradley down, and soon enough you'd have a dog at home. You'd even been working on a shortlist of names for when that fateful day arrived. You picked up a few pet themed coloring books on your lunch break, and when you pulled into the driveway, you took the bag from the front seat.

The mail truck was just pulling up to your house; he must have been having a late day, too. You walked to the curb to meet him, and he handed everything to you with a wave. As you walked up to the porch, you picked your envelopes out of the stack and left Bradley's separate. Great, your student loan statement was here. You couldn't wait to see how your last payment barely put a dent in things.

"Hi," you called out as you walked through the living room. "Sorry, I'm so late." But when you looked into the kitchen, Bradley was still in his uniform, calmly making a turkey and cheese sandwich and cutting it into little triangles while Noah colored.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bradley rasped, and you kissed his shoulder through his shirt. "I'll make your sandwich next." But you'd already moved on to Noah, smothering him in kisses while he laughed.

"Check out this dog themed coloring book," you said loudly, earning a glare from Bradley as you set it down in front of Noah. "Isn't this little brown puppy on the cover just adorable?"

"I want a dog," Noah whined as he opened the cover and got to work. You were betting you'd have a dog by next month.

"Relentless," Bradley groaned, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. "Ready for the lake?"

"Yes. And definitely." He tried to hand you a sandwich on a plate, but you said, "Let me go through my mail first before I forget. I want to make sure I log in and make my student loan payment tonight before we leave in the morning." You took the sandwich from him and noticed that he looked a little timid now. "What's wrong?"

"Well. Nothing's wrong," he said quietly as you bit into the sandwich and then set it down again to open up your envelope. But he had you distracted, and you realized too late that you had opened a piece of his mail from Tracy by mistake. You skimmed along the page and you gasped as tears welled up in your eyes.

I, Bradley Bradshaw, a legal adult of sound mind and competency, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament (hereinafter, “Last Will & Testament”) and do hereby revoke any and all wills and codicils heretofore made jointly or severally by me.

In the event I shall die as the sole parent of minor child(ren), then I appoint as guardian over minor child(ren)

You stopped when you read your name and dropped the papers to the floor as you burst into tears. "Bradley," you gasped, and he looked up from where he was putting mayonnaise on a slice of bread. You bent to pick up the papers, but you were so emotional, you could barely see, so you just sat on the floor next to them and looked up at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down and cupping your face in his hands. "Princess, tell me what's wrong."

You swiped at your tears with your hands and whispered, "You trust me that much?"

"What are you talking about, Baby?" he asked, and then he reached for one of the papers on the floor. "Your student loans?"

He was about to realize what you had read, so you quickly said, "I didn't mean to open it, I tore into the wrong envelope. I thought it was my student-"

Bradley silenced your sentence with a kiss as you sobbed. When he released your lips, you could still feel his nose on your cheek as you tried to get your breathing under control. "Yes. I trust you that much. If something happens to me, I know you'll take care of Noah."

You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him back onto his butt and climbed into his lap. "I would. I really would."

He held you close and softly said, "I was planning on telling you this weekend. The paperwork isn't finalized yet, but I can call Tracy's office and have it completed at any time."

You kissed him and said, "Call first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll call first thing tomorrow morning." He was smiling as you let your forehead rest against his.

"Why are you on the floor?" Noah asked, leaning over the table to look at you both.

Bradley scooped you up as he stood and set you down on your feet, but you kept your arms around him. "Mommy was just being silly, Bub. How about you put the crayons down and eat your sandwich." Then he kissed your hair and said, "You better eat your sandwich, too."

You took your plate and the mail to the table and sat down across from Noah. You watched him sip his milk through a straw cup and then eat all of the cheese out of the sandwich first. He was perfect. And you'd never have to be without him. Bradley trusted you with his child more than anyone else. And you knew he wanted to have another one.

As he sat down next to you with his own sandwich and a beer, you opened your student loan envelope and started to read. But you could feel his eyes on you as he sipped his Heineken.

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked softly, wiping at at stray tear.

"Just read your mail," he replied. When you looked back down at the paper in your hands, you saw that instead of nearly ten thousand dollars, your balance due for nursing school was zero.

"What did you do?" you gasped, looking him in the eye.

He just shrugged and bit into his own sandwich, smiling as he chewed. "Paid off your loans. Your interest rate was so high, you'd still be paying on them by the time you're my age. Which is dumb when I have the money to take care of it now."

"Bradley!" Your eyes were welling with tears again as you said, "You didn't have to do that!"

His voice was stern as you crawled into his lap again. "I trust you with Noah, one hundred percent. The money doesn't matter as much as that."

You let your head rest on his shoulder as you straddled his thigh, and his big hand was rubbing your back. "You still didn't have to," you whispered. "But thank you. And now I can help you with your mortgage and bills instead."

"You just save your money, and we'll figure it out later."

But you already knew you'd talk him into letting you pay for something. And the rest could go into a savings account for school for Noah. And anything leftover could be used to plan for the exciting future you were going to experience with the two of them.

---------------------------

Daddy keeps on winning now. And Princess doesn't have to worry about the things that shouldn't matter. Next up, the lake house. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 37

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