Labonair Legacies

2026, England.

Somewhere in Her Majesty's Prisons, Category A.

07:00 AM, unknown prison cell number.

In a cramped, dimly lit room reeking of decay, a single bed held a young man curled up, trembling slightly.

"Ah!" He exclaimed, gazing up at the concrete ceiling, disoriented and vision blurred. His head was drenched in sweat, eyes bloodshot.

After taking a moment to steady his ragged breath, he sat up.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered, shocked and confused as he surveyed his surroundings.

"I... I've time traveled?!" He whispered, examining his body with a sense of wonder and unease.

His fingers trembled as he noted the differences from his previous hands. He knew his own damned hands well enough to realize something was off, and he didn't need a mirror to confirm he was no longer in his own body.

A faint ray of light filtered through a small window—more like a hole—illuminating the stark room. The young man glanced around, taking in the prison cell: a narrow bunk, a metal door, a rudimentary toilet—aka a bucket to shit in—and nothing more.

'Where the fuck is this place? It looks like a damn prison cell. How did I end up here? I can't remember my name or how I got here, but all my previous memories are still intact. It's like I'm in a visual novel, inputting a name and playing through a linear story.' The young man was weirded out by his current situation.

'This body sure as hell isn't mine. It's younger, more muscular. I was lazy, no time for exercise after working half days non-stop. Not fat, but definitely not this fit—just the occasional workout.' He chuckled as he touched his body parts.

Looking down at his cock, he let out a slight sigh of relief. He was more blessed in this life than the last. He already had a sizable schlong that could drive any woman insane. But now, with this upgrade, he couldn't help but wonder: 'How the fuck is any woman going to handle this anaconda?'

'I need more information. Am I still on Earth? Why am I here like a prisoner? This body is a blank slate, except for a name—Michel Labonair.'

"Michel, Michel... Sounds French. Well, that's my new name. Michel. The last name is definitely French; I recognize it from a TV show. What was it?"

"Aagh, my head!!! Fuck!" Michel cried out, clutching his head as a sharp pain struck his brain, feeling like it was about to explode. It was worse than any migraine. "Labonair... What show was it? Think... think..."

'Fuck, fuck me sideways, literally! Fucking Labonair—that's from a fucking TV show about mosquito bloodsuckers and crazy, arrogant, almost impervious immortals...' Michel exhaled as he panted, organizing his thoughts after the stabbing pain stopped, having ceased thinking about the matter.

'Well, that's all I can figure out for now,' Michel thought, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Michel suddenly looked at the metal door, his eyebrows creased, as he started hearing loud screams outside the cell. Along with the screams, there was the rhythmic clacking of boots against the ground, coordinated footsteps from a lot of people moving together, and the clacking of something hitting metal.

"Get up, sacks of shit! Get up! It's a new day, sunshines, and it's time to remove your piss-smelling stench from your bodies. It's cold shower time. Hurry up, ladies!" someone barked outside the room where Michel was, along with similar slogans shouted by others, accompanied by the sound of something hitting metal.

Suddenly, it was Michel's turn. Someone struck his door hard, making a loud sound before opening it with a loud clicking noise.

*Rumble, rumble, CLANG*

Two prison guards, dressed and equipped in full gear, stood at the entrance. The one in front had a shotgun aimed at Michel, while the second guard beside him held a baton in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.

"Prisoner 8675309, stand at attention!" the guard with the shotgun barked. "Turn around and put your arms behind you so we can cuff your wrists."

*Sigh* 'I guess I better play the game,' Michel resigned himself, seeing how aggressive they were and ready to take him down.

"Alright, alright! Don't shoot!" Michel said, following their instructions. 'What the hell? Since when do guards need to point a gun at someone in a normal prison just to get them to the showers? In modern times, criminals are like VIPs with access to whatever they want, just like being outside. They even get whores at their beck and call. This is bullshit, nothing like what I expected a normal day in prison to be.'

"Is this necessary, sir?" Michel asked through gritted teeth, looking sideways over his shoulder as the guard behind him started to cuff him.

"According to your file, you have anger management issues," the guard answered.

*Chuckle*

"Anger management issues? What a relief... I thought I was a serious serial killer or something to warrant this special treatment," Michel chuckled sarcastically.

"Look, prisoner, I know a bit about the situation you're in," the guard continued as he locked the cuffs on Michel. "Being restrained will lessen the need for Guard Jones to shoot your sorry ass."

*Click* *Click*

'With the clicks, I can hear the damn cuffs fully locked on my hands. First time getting one of these. All my damn life being a law-abiding citizen, and now I end up in this damn place.'

"Don't be so grumpy, Labonair. I heard you got lucky and soon you'll be out of this damned place," the guard with the shotgun commented, keeping a close eye on Michel's every little movement.

"Now, move out!" the guards said to him as they exited the prison cell.

Passing through the door, Michel saw a large pavilion with cells on both sides, and the same layout on the second and third floors. Prisoners were already going wild, causing disturbances early in the morning. There were a fuckton of guards, armed to the teeth, trying to control these inmate pieces of shit. There were about 200 of these monkeys and just as many guards. 'What the hell is this place?'

They were driven to a large shower area designed for about 100 inmates at once. The guards ordered the inmates to get naked and take a spot in one of the available slots. After releasing Michel from his cuffs, he surveyed the area and concluded that choosing a spot near more guards seemed like the best option.

But if something's gonna go wrong, it's gonna go wrong no matter what I do. Fucking Murphy's Law.

Suddenly, a riot broke out, initiated by a large group of inmates. Others quickly joined in, armed with makeshift weapons like broken glasses and whatever else they could find. They managed to overpower some of the guards, pushing them back past the first checkpoint into the cell pavilion. But it wasn't all sunshine for the inmates—a trail of dead bodies and a few guards lay in their wake, with shots ringing out like New Year's Eve, no concern for ammo like it was unlimited.

It was a carnage, but Michel didn't give a fuck. They'd be brought under control sooner or later. The problem was, that a group of them was getting too close to him, looking for trouble. 

There were five inmates in total, with one muscle-headed king kong leading the other four monkeys.

"Yo! Labonair! What a morning. You thought you'd get out of here just like that?" the muscle-headed king kong leader screeched like a banshee. "There's only one way for you to get out, and that's in a fucking plastic bag. You didn't think killing all those rich kids wouldn't have consequences, did you? Some people are pulling strings here to stage this show, and I'm here to take care of you.

"Now, it's just us and you here, sweetheart." King Kong said, smiling and showing a full mouth of yellow teeth with some missing.

'Fuck! Fuck! How the hell am I going to get out of this shitty situation? What the hell is he talking about? Killing rich shits? Damn them, him, the monkeys backing him up, and those rich fucks he's talking about. I don't know shit about what he's saying, but fuck them all.' Michel thought worriedly, disregarding what the inmate was saying as he had no knowledge of any of it.

'In this situation, the best move is to strike first because it's impossible to run with the only way out of this place being blocked.' Michel's mind was working overtime to figure out what to do.

'Shit, I sure as hell won't go down without a fight. Be damned if I don't take at least one of them with me, and best case scenario, it's the cocky one leading. Fuck you, you won't get anything from your deal with whoever it is if I kill you first, shithead.'

With his next course of action already planned, Michel started preparing. He began calming his breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "Snif, uf, snif, uf." Then he started clenching his hands into fists.

Michel could already feel the adrenaline kicking in, his blood pumping, getting ready for this. It was now or never. He readied a fist to deliver a sucker punch forward. Suddenly, time seemed to slow down, and he moved with what felt like superhuman speed, like Sandevistan in Cyberpunk.

Almost instantly, in less than the blink of an eye, he was already in the face of the smirking leader, delivering a sucker punch. The next moment, he saw the guy's head fly off his body, brutally torn from his neck. "Damn, that's sick. What the hell is happening? But sure, I don't care. This is a blessing at this time."

The other four inmates barely understood what had happened, it was too fast for them to even comprehend what their eyes were seeing. Their faces suddenly paled, and they tried to open their mouths to plead for mercy, but Michel didn't give them the chance. 'Damn them, fuck them.'

He repeated the brutal action four more times, testing this weird power he had in this situation. He tried hitting other parts of their bodies with a punch. He saw how a couple of them had their chests carved open with a punch through their hearts, and another was split in two from a kick to the guts. 'What the fuck, I'm like some kind of baldie from One Punch Man with gore activated, heh.'

"Now you lot aren't so cocky, eh?" Michel said, chuckling. Taking one last look at the bodies on the floor, he was thankful for this power; otherwise, he'd be the one lying there. He spat on them in disgust before moving out of the showers and into the chaos of the riot.

But someone was waiting for him, blocking his way—an albino, a big, pale-skinned, red-eyed, creepy-as-fuck mini Hulk.

"Who the fuck are you? You're creepy as hell, dude," Michel commented, observing the albino man in front of him.

"I'm the one who's gonna enjoy your sweet little ass before sending you on your way, little guy," the albino crackled, smiling with all his white teeth.

"Are you sure about that?" Michel said, weirded out by the creep. It was as if the albino hadn't seen him kill the others just moments before.

The albino moved like a beast, striking first, but Michel moved faster. He punched the albino in the face, and when the albino tried to block it with his elbow, it shattered. His arm dangled like a limp string.

"Ah!!!!!!" the albino screamed, wailing like a bitch as he saw his dangling arm, disbelief in his eyes. Then he pulled out a razor blade with his other hand, terror in his eyes.

In a desperate move, the albino charged at Michel with the blade, but Michel dodged it. He grabbed the albino's other arm, breaking it and pulling the radius out, a gruesome sight. Taking hold of the razor blade, he stabbed it into the albino's neck and then drove it into his head.

The big meat sack dropped to the floor like trash.

"Bloody hell, even dead, you're still creepy as hell," Michel said, giving one last look at the albino's body before blending into the riot to avoid suspicion. Just as he predicted, the guards pushed back like a tsunami, quickly dispersing the inmates and regaining control. When the situation was settled, Michel calmly returned to his cell to wait for things to normalize.

-An unknown amount of time later, but seemingly past noon, Michel heard his cell door being unlocked and opened.-

"Labonair, get out. It's time to leave this place," the guards from before entered the cell, following the same protocol as earlier, but this time they didn't cuff him.

Leaving the cell and taking a peek around, Michel saw a lot of guards stationed throughout the area. Biological control personnel in hazmat suits were cleaning the facility.

"What a morning, huh? What happened?" Michel asked the guards guiding him.

The guard giving the orders, with a name tag reading Adams, replied lazily, "Just an organized mutiny by a large group of inmates from some terrorist group active in the country. They were demanding irrelevant things from the government regarding the war on the Eastern European front with Russia."

"Oh, alright, whatever. Just get me out of this shithole," Michel responded with a nonchalant shrug, as if uninterested, but internally, his thoughts were racing, processing every bit of information he had just received. 'So, the war against Russia on Ukrainian territory is still raging fiercely? Or is it even more intense now? Before I got here, it was still going on in 2023. Is it 2023? Or 2021? Well, at least this is Earth since Russia exists. Even if I don't know where I am, we speak English, so it must be somewhere in an occidental country prison.'

Entering an office labeled "Civil Registry & Logistics," Michel saw an attractive young woman with brown hair and blue eyes sitting behind a desk. She was alone in the room and gestured for him to sit down. The guards left to wait outside as he entered the room.

The woman, with an identification tag pinned to her uniform reading Brittany Dawson, said while eyeing him as if he were a delicious candy, biting her lower lip, "Mr. Labonair, the day has come for you to regain your freedom. After passing all your psychological and physical tests, and serving four years of your sentence, we are pleased with your rehabilitation into society following the unfortunate events that brought you here. Your original eight-year sentence was reduced due to your progress and good behavior."

"On the desk, you will find the possessions you had at the time of your capture: your phone, wallet, a new official identity paper for travel within the country, a debit card with a state-sponsored sum of 1000 GBP to help you get back on your feet, some plain cotton clothes in your size, and a pair of generic shoes. There is a changing room at your right-hand side available for you to use."

"Please be quick, if you need some help, call me—maybe I can assist you~~," Brittany said suggestively as she eyed him, licking her lips.

Michel chuckled as he saw how the woman was practically drooling at the sight of him, even though he didn't know how he currently looked. "Alright, Brittany. I will do so."

Taking the things from the desk, Michel moved to the designated room. It was a closet-sized space with nothing but a bulb light at the top and a mirror on the front wall to look at himself and change.

Sighing, Michel took a look in the mirror and was petrified by what he saw. Whispering to himself, "Bloody hell, this body is a fucking young Ralph Fiennes acting like Amon. Haha, what is this shit?" But damn, he looked good. That face and that cold look were intimidating indeed, almost like facial paralysis with naturally sharp, cold eyes. At least he got lucky with a handsome one, not the one where he was acting like Voldemort, and a body fit like a calisthenics athlete for free. Cool, at least no complaints from me.

As he got naked and started looking at himself for a moment, there was a knock at the door. Smirking, he opened it while still naked.

"Yes, Brittany?" Michel had a small smile as he looked at the young woman.

"I believe you need some help in there, Mr. Labonair, as you are taking too much time." Brittany said with a lustful and eager look, her eyes focused on his naked body, particularly his dangling cock.

"I think you are right, love. Come inside." Michel chuckled and gave way for her to enter the little enclosed space.

Brittany's breath hitched as she stepped in, her body pressing against his in the cramped quarters. "I believe we need to start by taking care of this first so the pants assigned to you can fit better without much discomfort," she said, taking Michel's cock into her smooth hands and starting to pump him softly, looking into his eyes.

"You're right, sweetie. But I'm a little thirsty too," Michel said, pulling her into a wet, tongue-filled kiss.

"Mhmm~~" Brittany moaned loudly, excited and eager. Her pussy was already wet and dripping with her juices. She moved her tongue devotedly with Michel's, her right hand pumping his cock faster while her other hand gently caressed his balls.

Michel, feeling her eagerness, grew hard. His hands started to roam her soft and curvy body, pulling her closer as their tongues intertwined and danced together. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and eager moans.

Brittany broke away from the kiss momentarily, panting, "I want you so badly."

"I know, baby," Michel smiled, his voice a low growl. "But there's no need to rush things along. Let's enjoy this." He spun her around, pressing her against the mirror. His hands gripped her hips as he ground his hard cock against her ass.

Brittany whimpered, pushing back against him. "Please, Michel~~," she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

Michel chuckled, his breath hot on her ear. "Patience, love." He slid his hands up her body, cupping her big breasts through her uniform. Brittany gasped, her nipples hardening under his touch.

He slowly began to undress her, revealing her naked form in the harsh light of the changing room. His eyes roved over her body, taking in every curve. "You're beautiful, Brittany," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Brittany blushed, trying to cover herself with her hands. Michel stopped her, pinning her hands above her head with one of his. "Don't be embarrassed, love," he said softly, his other hand trailing down her body, tracing the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip.

Brittany shivered under his touch, her breath coming in short gasps. Michel smiled, his fingers finding their way between her legs, stroking her wet folds. Brittany moaned, her hips bucking against his hand.

"That's it, baby," Michel murmured, his voice encouraging. "Let me hear you. Let me hear how much you want this."

Brittany whimpered, her body trembling as Michel's fingers moved faster, driving her closer to the edge. Just as she was about to climax, Michel stopped, spinning her around to face him.

Brittany pouted, her body aching with need. Michel chuckled, cupping her cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'm not going to leave you hanging."

"But first, you need to help my little guy for a while with those beautiful, plump lips of yours," Michel said, looking into her cloudy blue eyes with a wicked grin. He caressed her lips with his fingers, holding her cheek in his hand. "Show me what you can do, love." He guided her head gently downwards, towards his erect cock. Brittany eagerly complied, sinking down onto her knees in front of him. She took him into her mouth, her blue eyes looking up at his as she used her tongue to show him what she was capable of. Michel groaned in pleasure, his hips thrusting forward slightly as he caressed her head, enjoying the warm and wet sensation of her mouth.

"Mmmf~~! Mmmf~~!" Brittany hummed excitedly, her cheeks flushing redder than ever as she bobbed her head up and down rhythmically.

Michel's hands tangled in her hair, guiding her movements. "That's right, baby. Take it nice and deep," he groaned, feeling his cock hit the back of her throat.

Brittany gagged slightly but kept going, her mouth sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing throughout every inch of his throbbing manhood. Michel felt his balls draw up tightly against his body, his orgasm building.

He pulled Brittany off his cock, a popping sound filling the room as his cock left her mouth. Brittany looked up at him, her eyes watering slightly, her lips swollen and red.

"Stand up, baby," Michel said softly, helping her to her feet. He spun her around again, pressing her against the mirror. His cock, slick with her saliva, pressed against her entrance.

Brittany gasped, pushing back against him. "Please, Michel. I need you inside me," she begged.

Michel chuckled, his breath hot on her ear. "Since you asked so nicely," he said, thrusting into her in one swift motion.

Brittany screamed out loud in pleasure and pain alike, her body stretching to accommodate his size. Michel started pumping away relentlessly, each thrust deeper and stronger than the last. Their naked bodies pressed together tightly, slick with sweat as they moved against one another.

Brittany's moans filled the small room, her body trembling as Michel drove her closer to the edge. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

"That's it, baby," Michel murmured, his voice encouraging. "Come for me. Let me feel you come all over my cock."

Brittany screamed, her body convulsing as her orgasm washed over her. Michel felt her pussy clamp down on his cock, her juices coating him. He groaned, his own orgasm building.

"Agh! Here it comes, baby." With a final roar of triumph, Michel felt his cock swelling within her depths, ready to burst forth and release its contents deep inside her willing body. When Michel's cock started pulsing, he released his semen, filling her womb. Brittany cried out in orgasmic bliss, her pussy convulsing violently around his shaft as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her entire form.

They stood there for several minutes, their bodies pressed closely together, enjoying the warmth of each other as they caught their breath. Finally, Michel broke the silence by whispering softly into Brittany's ear.

"You were amazing, love. Such a good girl."

Brittany nodded slowly, a soft smile on her face as she looked up at him adoringly.

"Good girl." Michel pulled her into a wet kiss again while squeezing her ass cheeks and her big tits at his leisure.

"Clean yourself before you leave, love. You don't want to attract any possible problems." Michel said, hastily putting on his clothes as he looked at the messy and sweaty, cum-covered girl, her pussy leaking his semen.

He tossed the inmate aside into a corner and prepared to exit this shithole.

Leaving the office of Civil Registry & Logistics, the guards outside gave him a strange look for a moment before they escorted him to the exit, where a prison bus would take him to the nearest town. Taking a last look at the place he hoped to never see again, he got into the bus and sat in one of the free seats. He closed his eyes for the first time in this body, taking a relaxing little nap after the adrenaline of the morning and just moments ago enjoying Brittany's sweet pussy inside that damn prison. His body relaxed, with no energy left to think about anything more.

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As you can see, the year has changed, and so will the events that unfold. I'll be updating this one slowly, so stay tuned for more steamy details to come.