Franco’s Prison Bitch

by

Gay sex stories: Franco’s Prison Bitch (An Epilogue to “Jerry In Prison”). Author: CharlieBladeRemus. The story is including: Fiction, Anal, Bi-sexual, Blackmail, Blowjob, Coercion, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Cum Swallowing, Discipline, Domination/submission, Gay, Hardcore, Humiliation, Male Domination, Male/Female, Non-consensual sex, Reluctance, Romance, Spanking, Torture, Virginity, Water Sports/Pissing.

Gay sex stories: Franco’s Prison Bitch – Part 1

Author: CharlieBladeRemus

Remember Franco, the thuggish, angry white dude from the second installment of “Jerry In Prison”? He’s now out of jail and determined to find his original prison bitch. He also gets an even bigger surprise afterward!

Sitting outside in my car on the street with my brother on a bright Saturday afternoon, I braced myself for what I was about to do. The nice house across the street was where my prison bitch lived. And I was ready to go in there and show him that nothing’s changed just because we’re on the outside now. I was going to go in there and fuck the shit out of him just like I always did while we were both in the big house. But before I get into that, I better start at the beginning…

I was locked up about fifteen months ago. I had gotten into it with four guys. They were giving me a lot of shit for no apparent reason. I was already having a bad day, so something in me just snapped. Next thing I know, I was being hauled into a police car, my knuckles were bruised up, there was blood on my shirt, and the four guys were laying on the ground with broken bones, bleeding noses, and cuts and bruises for days.

I was always a very short-tempered type of nigga, and my fighting skills made me all the more dangerous. But there were seldom occasions when I just blacked out like that. And on those occasions, I’m potentially DEADLY. Anyway, I found out just how much damage I had done. I had not only rained fists down on their faces; I had broken three arms, two legs, a few ribs, and a jaw. I had given them all concussions, and one was so bad that the dude suffered temporary amnesia. And if that wasn’t enough, I had elbowed one guy in the back so hard, I severed his spinal cord and he was left permanently paralyzed. At the same time that I was shocked at what I had done, something in me said “Serve them motherfuckers right; they shouldn’t have been talking all that shit to me!” And I was sentenced to two years in prison with no regrets.

So I was locked up, but I quickly made my presence known. A few of those crazy niggas tried to get me in the shower and in the yard, tried to get me down and rape me and make me their bitch. But like I said, my fighting skills made me dangerous, and I fought them off with almost no difficulty. I wasn’t gonna be ANYONE’S bitch! And finally in the shower one day, I totally snapped. One guy twice my size tried to handle me, and I handled him; POW, BAM, WHAMMO! Then I had him down, and decided to make an example of him; thinking of my girl back at home, my dick got hard, and he was on his belly, and I was on top of him, my 10-inch dick buried in his tight ass, and that big nigga was screaming for his mama. From that day on, I was one of the big dogs, respected by everyone in the prison. Even Big Lukas was impressed, and he was one who would rape random niggas. But when he saw me make a bitch out of that one dude, he instantly became a good friend of mine, and decided that my ass wasn’t worth it.

About nine months after I had been locked up, that’s when he came in: Sam. A scrawny, pale 21-year-old guy who had been sentenced to 6 months for a misdemeanor. I never did find out exactly what it was that he did. All I know is they brought him to my cell and introduced me to my new cell mate. There was a haughty, snobbish look about him that instantly made me take a disliking to him, so I kept quiet. But that night, he decided to be a smart-ass.

“Hey boy,” I said to him. “Go grab me a fuckin’ book from the shelf over there.”

I heard him scoff from below me and he said “Why don’t you get it yourself, you lazy fuck?”

Major fuck-up. In no time, I had hopped down from my top bunk and was in his face.

“What the FUCK did you say to me, nigga?!” I snarled in his face. His eyes went wide with fear. That was good. Most peopled feared me in here. I saw his eyes travel; he was looking at the scar over my left eye. I had received that scar in a fight almost a year ago, and I was damn proud of it; not only did it symbolize my pugnacious lifestyle, but it also made me look ten times as dangerous as I already looked, elevating the fear of anyone I gave the death glare.

“I-I-I s-said,” he stammered. “Maybe you could g-go get it your-s-s-self?”

“BITCH!” I yelled, snapping my fist forward in a right hook to the jaw. He fell back on the bed, whimpering in pain. I grabbed him by the shirt and held his face to mine. “Apparently you’ve already forgotten where the fuck you are, nigga. Let me remind you: you’re in prison, and you’re fresh fish. And we don’t take no orders from fresh fish. They take orders from us.”

“Get off me!” he yelled, trying to push me back. But I swung a fist into his stomach, completely knocking the wind out of him.

“Didn’t I just say I’m not gonna do as you tell me, nigga?” I snapped as he fell onto the floor, gasping.

“Fuck…you,” he whispered.

Rage fired up in me at this. Yanking my wifebeater off, I grabbed him up by his short blond hair and started smacking him up.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you the hard way!” I said to him. His face was reddened from my pimp-slaps, his baby-blue eyes leaking tears. “Now you’re gonna learn why they always say ‘Don’t drop the soap.’ But before I do that, you’re gonna do something for me. Get down on your fuckin’ knees.”

Surprisingly, he submitted to me. I guess my beating wrought an instant change in him…

Sam’s first night in the joint was all he needed to officially become my prison bitch. He gave me a damn good blowjob that night, though he was reluctant to bend over so I could fuck his pussy. I made quick work of that. Just like the big dude in the shower, I had him screaming for his mama with my big dick up his tight virgin ass…

Things were like that for a few good months. I liked dominating the little faggot Sam, making him do whatever Daddy wanted. He was my property. And every night I’d tear that sweet piece of boy-pussy up, making sweet love to him (of course, my definition of “making sweet love” was other people’s definition of “rough, angry fucking”). There were even some mornings when I would wake him up with a surprise quickie.

Then one day, after I had been in prison for a little over a year now, I got a letter from my girlfriend back home. She told me that she was pregnant and didn’t want to be with me anymore. Needless to say, I wasn’t the father; she had been cheating on me. Of course, I had already technically cheated on her, once with that big dude, and now several times with Sam, but I wanted to leave all that behind once I got out of jail, because I really did love her. And now she told me that she had gotten knocked up and was breaking up with me, because she couldn’t live anymore lies?

A blazing fire of anger burned inside me, and I went to go find my bitch Sam and take it out on him. I found him in the prison yard and demanded him to come to me. But he had never seen me THIS pissed off and, scared for his very life, he ran for it. I chased him ruthlessly, but for once, he managed to get away from me.

So my girlfriend had cheated on me and broken up with me, and my bitch had gotten away from me. Suffice it to say, I was one EXTREMELY PISSED OFF nigga that day. I walked around, punching people who did as much as say “What up, nigga?” to me; I was starting to get scared I’d kill someone by the end of the day.

Luckily, that afternoon the opportunity arose for me to let out some of my aggression. Warden Polinski, who had taken a liking to me since day one because of my fighting skills, saw me angry and invited me to participate in the Temple of Torture. I accepted at once! I was in desperate need to inflict some pain. So that afternoon, I, big Lukas, and three other niggas I was cool with, ganged up on this little cowardly bitch named Jerry. Within a matter of a couple of hours, I had released all my rage on that faggot, with the aid of the other four guys, of course. But some things Jerry did in there were some major fuck-ups. Didn’t matter, he knew what I was about real quick, and I had him in some of the worst pain he had ever felt.

Afterwards I felt better, but not completely, because I still wanted to fuck Sam. And sure enough, I did that night, since he HAD to come back to his cell. I was still pissed with him for disobeying me, so I fucked his pussy a little harder that night.

Jerry was such a good fuck that I wanted to make him my second prison bitch, so then I’d have two bitches around my finger. But that was not to happen, because that night after our session of torture, Jerry killed himself in his cell. So I only had Sam, or so I thought…

About a month later, Sam was released; it turned out that whatever he was locked up for had nothing to do with him; he had been mixed up with someone else. I was a sad man to see my pretty little piece of pussy walk out the door…

He was such a good fuck, that I just HAD to have him again. I was obsessed, so I devised a plan, and it worked. I decided to act like a good citizen within those walls and in about two months, I was let out early for good behavior. FRANCO WAS FREE, BITCHES!

Over the next week, I hooked up with my brother Mike, trying to find out where Sam lived. I was surprised; Mike found out his exact address, which happened to be just two counties away. I got myself ready to get up inside him once again…

Which brings us back to now. Mike and I sat across the street from Sam’s house, looking innocent for about half an hour. Then when saw a car pull up in the driveway, and out got Sam, along with two other people. One was a dude who had to be his brother, and the other was a REALLY hot black-haired girl of 20-something. I found out from Mike that this was Sam’s girlfriend, Danielle. This was perfect; I was going to reclaim my bitch right in front of his girl. Mike was going to take pictures and videos. After they went into the house, we waited for about fifteen minutes (I wanted to give him the element of surprise).

“You ready to do this, my nigga?” Mike asked me.

“Let’s fuckin’ go!” I replied.

I grabbed my bag, and we got out of the car and walked right up to Sam’s door. I rang the doorbell a few times. Ten seconds later, Sam’s brother opened the door.

He gasped when he looked at me. The sight of a strange, scowling, tatted-up, muscular white thug dude with a brutal scar on his face struck fear into him as always, and my almost identical brother struck just as much.

“Where’s Sam?” I demanded.

“Um, he’s upstairs with his girlfriend,” he said nervously. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Don’t ask no questions,” said Mike calmly.

“I’m just an old friend of his, and we got some business to talk about,” I added.

“I d-don’t know if—” the guy began, but I shut him up quick; I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fresh $100 bill and put it in his hand. He stared at me with a half-fearful, half-grateful expression.

“Um, thanks,” he said timidly.

“You can thank us by getting’ outta here, kid,” I snapped.

“And ya might not wanna come back for a few hours,” Mike said.

He said no words, but scampered to the car and drove off quickly.

“Let’s go,” I said. We walked into the house and found the stairs. Quietly we snuck upstairs and could hear sounds from only one room, the room that was slightly cracked open. We could hear the girl’s laughter and Sam kissing her. With no hint of warning, I flung open the door.

Sam and Danielle looked over at us. Danielle gave a slight scream, but Sam gaped at me in horror.

“Franco!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? When did you get out?”

“Don’t matter, bitch,” I said in the low, dangerous voice I liked to use when I was getting ready to fuck him. “You know what time it is.”

“Who is this, babe?” Danielle asked Sam.

“Oh, you must not know,” I told her. “This little boyfriend of yours is actually my prison bitch. Don’t worry, I ain’t got nothin’. He ain’t given you no diseases or nothin’. But it’s time for me to take what’s mine.”

I started moving toward Sam, an evil grin on my face.

“Dude, I don’t have time for this right now!” Sam exclaimed. He backed up to the bed and tripped. Now he was lying on the bed, and I bent down over him, my hands on the bed. I had long gotten past the point where I had to hit him to get my point across; my venomous voice and my cold eyes did all the work, though he occasionally needed a few good smacks.

“Ain’t a damn thing changed just ‘cause we on the outside, nigga,” I said in my low voice. “You just called me ‘dude.’ You know goddamn well you call me either ‘Sir’ or ‘Daddy,’ do you understand?”

He was quivering, but he muttered “Yes.”

“What was that?”

He gulped and murmured “Yes, sir.”

“That’s better,” I said. Then I said to Mike, “Close the door, bro. It’s gonna get wild in here.” He closed it, and at the same time, I reached into my bag and pulled out a leather thong and an enema bag.

I handed them to Sam saying, “Go douche yourself out. You know what happens if I see shit on my dick. Come out in nothin’ but the thong.”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” he said softly, and he walked into the connected bathroom on the other side of the bedroom.

“Yo Mike, roll something up, bro!” I said.

“You already know, nigga,” he shot back at me, laughing. He grabbed my bag and pulled out a couple of cigars and a large bag of bright green weed. He pulled up a chair and got down to business.

I noticed that Danielle hadn’t done anything, hadn’t even made any move to call the cops. She had sat down and was just looking at me. I could have sworn she was checking me out, but right now, I didn’t have time for that.

“See how my bitch always obeys his daddy?” I said to her, smiling.

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t speak. Three minutes later, Sam came out of the bathroom jaybird-naked except the thong.

“Oh, hell yeah, boy,” I said. I saw his nose wrinkle as the potent smell of my brother’s weed hit his nose. I snorted. “Nigga, you think this is for you? I don’t think so. Get over here to the bed.”

He walked over and stood in front of me beside the bed.

“Now bend over and lemme see that ass,” I barked. A look of shame on his face as he glanced at Danielle, who was actually focused on Mike rolling his blunts, he turned around and bent over with his ass up in the air.

“Shake it for me,” I said. “Let’s see you twerk.” I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and found the perfect booty-shaking rap music. Mike handed me his phone to record video while he was still rolling up. I set up the camera and focused on Sam. Then I hit ‘play’ on my phone and the music started.

“Twerk, faggot!” I said, a little louder, hitting the ‘record button.’ He started out slowly at first, but under my orders, he was soon dancing like a whore in a nightclub. I recorded him twerking for about four minutes before the music ended. I handed Mike his phone and turned mine off.

“Damn, boy,” I said. “You’re a pretty good twerker.”

He remained silent.

“What you supposed to say?” I said threateningly.

“Thank you, sir,” he whined.

“Attaboy,” I snickered. “Now you stay bent over, bitch. I’m gonna punish you for cheatin’ on me with this girl.” I gestured at Danielle, who didn’t seem fazed by the fact that her boyfriend was being degraded before her eyes. With that, I took my belt off and folded it in half. I reached out and pulled the back of the thong down to reveal his pale, puny butt cheeks. Pale now, but not for long.

“25 lashes for infidelity,” I announced. “You will count out loud, and follow it with ‘sir.’ If you don’t say ‘sir.’ I start over at zero. Do you understand?”

“Y-y-y-yes , sir,” he said, now shaking hard. I knew he’d be shaking this hard, because I’d had to whip him a few times in the joint for disobedience.

I brought my hand back, belt swinging, and snapped it forward. The leather cracked loudly against Sam’s ass.

“One, sir!” he screamed as the place where the belt hit him started to turn red.

CRACK! “Two, sir!”

CRACK! “Three, sir!”

CRACK! “Oww Four, sir!”

CRACK! “Aaaoooww Five, sir!”

He was crying by now, but that didn’t stop me. Over and over I lashed the belt against his ass, which was almost completely red.

With one more CRACK against his butt, Sam sobbed “Twenty-five!”

A second later, he realized his mistake. He quickly said ‘sir,’ but it was too late.

“I told you what the fuck would happen, bitch!” I said savagely.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” he exclaimed.

“Nope, not gonna hear it,” I said. “We start over.”

Twenty-five more loud cracks filled the room, followed by screams of pain. But this time, he said ‘sir’ after counting every lick. I tossed my belt aside and walked up to him, grabbing his beet-red ass. He whimpered as he straightened up, his face was flushed and tears filled his eyes, running down his cheeks.

“What do you say, bitch?” I asked.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered.

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for punishing this naughty little bitch, sir!” he yelled.

“That’s right,” I hissed in his ear. Then I gave his ear a light kiss. “You know Daddy loves you, ya little faggot bitch.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Now it’s time for you to prove how much you love Daddy.” I leaned in and murmured, “You turn to Danielle and tell her you want me, not her.”

“But—” he gasped.
————–

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Franco’s Prison Bitch – Part 2

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Gay sex stories: Franco’s Prison Bitch – Part 2

“DO IT!” I snarled in a guttural growl.

Dread flooded his face as he turned to the beautiful girl sitting by the door.

“Danielle,” he said in a choked voice. “I don’t want to fuck you. I…I want Daddy to fuck me.”

Danielle scoffed and said, “Somehow, I knew that was coming.”

Damn right, I thought. What does a pretty young thing like her want with a submissive prison bitch boy anyway?

I took my wifebeater off and stood bare-chested in front of my bitch. “Suck Daddy’s nipples,” I said.

“Yes, Daddy,” he said, and he went down and did so. I teased him as I felt his teeth and tongue on my nipples, telling him how to suck and nibble. Mike, who had finished rolling his blunts, was taking pictures of my bitch servicing me. After about a minute, I lifted his chin up.

“Good job, bitch,” I said. And he replied with “Thank you, sir,” though he still looked ashamed. Then I raised my right arm.

“Now lick Daddy’s armpit,” I demanded. This was something he had not done before (again the element of surprise), but I had gotten the idea from Big Lukas when we had gang-raped Jerry, and now decided to try it out on my bitch. “I ain’t put on deodorant for about a week boy, and I worked up a nice sweat beating yo ass. I got a full-on man musk all for you.”

With a stunned look in his eyes he said “Yes, sir.” He slowly leaned his head to the side and stuck his tongue out and licked the thick, sweaty bush of hair under my arm.

“Bury yo face in there, bitch,” I said. He obliged, rubbing his face all around. “Yeah, make yo face smell like my pit.”

He was always a clean freak, so this somewhat nauseated him, having his face right in a ripe, musty armpit, but I didn’t give two fucks. He was gonna prove he was MY bitch today!

“Get some good shots of this, Mike,” I said. And he was there with his phone, taking pictures.

“Good boy,” I said to my bitch. “But you know what’s better? I got two of those for you!” I put my right arm down and lifted my left one. Obediently, he went for it just like he did last time.

“Better lick good or Daddy’s gonna punish you again,” I said.

“Yes, sir,” he groaned.

“Get this one on video, bro,” I told Mike. Again, his camera was on, picking up every bit of footage.

“Yeah, lick Daddy’s armpit. Smell that fuckin’ manly musk. How does Daddy’s pit smell?”

“Very good, sir. You smell like a real man, sir.”

Sam ate my pit for about a minute before I pushed him back.

“Yeah, bitch!” I said, giving him a smack across the face, not enough to knock him down, but enough to exert my dominance over him. “You’re a good little puppy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“That’s right,” I said, and I spit right in his face. He flinched backward.

“Fuck that,” I snarled. “You take that shit like the bitch you are! Stay still!”

He stiffened up and I spit on him a few more times, and gave him a couple more smacks in the face.

I saw a small refrigerator next to his bed and asked, “Is there any beer in that fridge?”

“Yes there is, sir,” he said.

“Grab one of my beers from in there,” I demanded.

“But there’s only my beer in there,” he retorted.

I reached out and bumped my knuckles against his jaw. “Haven’t you learned anything from being in the big house, boy?” I said. “When you became my bitch, everything that belonged to you, also belonged to me. You’re still my bitch, so ain’t nothin’ changed. Yo shit is my shit. Now get ya faggot ass over there and get one of my beers!”

“Yes, sir,” he said grudgingly. Ten seconds later, he handed me a bottle of ice-cold Budweiser.

“Attaboy,” I said, cracking my beer open. I took a long drink from it and belched right in his face.

“Now you get what you’ve been wanting for two months,” I said. “On your knees!”

As he knelt down, I pulled up another chair and sat next to Mike. “Fire in the hole,” I said to my brother, and he lit the first blunt. I drained my beer and said to my bitch, “Suck Daddy’s cock.”

“Yes, Daddy,” he murmured. I took my phone and played some Bob Marley to set the mood for smoking. Meanwhile Sam walked on his knees in front of me, and reached out to undo my pants.

“I don’t think so,” I snapped, slapping his hands away. “Bitches don’t use no hands.”

He put his hands behind his back and reached up with his mouth. It took him a minute to undo the button on my jeans with his teeth. Mike passed me the blunt, coughing, as Sam clenched his teeth around my zipper, pulling it down. I took a hit as he then bit down on the elastic of my underwear and pulled it down, revealing my semi-hard dick. I was seized by a brief fit of coughing, but quickly recovered; I was a champion weed-smoker and Mike had scored some dank shit.

“Yeeeeaaaahhhhh,” I drawled. “Now get to work.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam muttered. And he began to lick my cock up and down, trying to get it hard. My brother and I passed the blunt back and forth several times as my cock was licked. Technically, I was straight, not even bi, so I was thinking about lots of hot girls as the weed kicked in and my cock was played with. In about five minutes, I had a great buzz going and my ten inches of meat was standing straight up.

“That’s a good little bitch,” I said, exhaling smoke as I looked down. “Now start sucking that mothafucka.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. There was envy in his voice, probably because Mike and I were smoking a fat, tasty blunt of chronic, and there he was on his knees, having nothing to smoke but a big cigar of man beef. Even so, he started sucking.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I groaned as my cock slid into his mouth. “Yeah, suck that dick, bitch. Suck it like it’s ya last meal.”

I was feeling great. The weed had me soaring, and Sam’s wet mouth on my cock was euphoric. I demanded him to suck harder and deeper. Eventually I had him pull my pants down around my ankles so that he could suck my balls.

“Suck those fuckin’ babymakers, bitch boy,” I growled, my voice deepened from the weed. “Take ‘em right in ya mouth.” He obeyed, opening his mouth wide; he took one of my nuts into his mouth and sucked, working his tongue around it. I winced a little as he closed his mouth around my balls, but I found that it gave me a little pleasure.

“Yeah, you been practicin’ huh?” I snickered. “I think you been cheatin’ on me, AND ya girl over here.”

“No never, sir,” he said.

Mike was recording the blowjob as we smoked. So I said “How does Daddy’s dick taste, bitch?”

“Your dick tastes good, sir,” he said.

“Look at the camera and say how Daddy’s dick tastes.”

He looked into the camera and said “Daddy’s dick tastes great.”

“Yeah, now suck the nut outta Daddy.”

He lowered his head back down and started sucking again. After about fifteen minutes I felt my insides start to burn as I was getting ready to bust my nut.

“Come on boy, suck harder!” I growled. “Please ya Daddy.”

He sucked vigorously for another minute and I started moaning. My dick swelled up and I felt like I was about to explode. I stood up and held his head in place, and stoked my cock for a few seconds. I told him to open his mouth and I let out a deep, guttural roar as I pushed, and finally, several jets of hot sperm came shooting out into his mouth and all over his face. I nutted hard for about ten seconds, getting light-headed.

“Fuck yeah!” I panted. “I was saving all that for you, boy. Now eat it. Eat it all up, every last fuckin’ drop.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, a disgusted look on his face as my dick started to soften. The first blunt was down to a roach by now, and my brother and I were high as fuck, so Mike had put it out to save it for later. As Sam scooped up all my cum and ate it reluctantly (Mike videotaping the whole thing), I reached down into my pants pocket and pulled out a cigarette. I sat back in the chair and lit up, watching my bitch enjoy his meal of cock juice.

“Start lickin’ my cock again,” I said, blowing smoke into his face. “Get it hard. You know what comes next, bitch.”

He knew what was coming next, so he started licking while I smoked my cigarette. Oh, yeah. That tight little hole in his pants was about to get ripped open again. By the time I was done smoking, my cock was rigid.

“Now stand up and take those little panties off,” I ordered. I saw him glance over at Danielle, and I thought the same thing. We both knew how Danielle would react once she saw Sam naked. Slowly, he pulled the thong down.

Mike busted out laughing, and so did I; I’d almost forgotten how tiny my bitch’s dick was, about the size of my pinky finger! Not like he was ever able to put it to use anyway. I glanced over at Danielle, and her face said it all, but she spoke it as well.

“I was gonna give my virginity to THAT?!”

Mike and I laughed again. “Looks like you wouldn’t have felt a thing!” Mike snickered.

I managed to shake my laughter off after a few seconds. “Alright bitch, get on the bed and play with your pussy hole.” I said to Sam. “Get it nice and loose for Daddy’s dick.”

Mike lit the second blunt as Sam began trying to stick a finger in his anus. I didn’t know if anyone had fucked him since he got out. Probably not, because his ass looked as tight as it had been on his first night in the joint.

“It’s too dry,” he complained just as the blunt came to me.

I laughed bitterly. “You got your own natural lube. Why don’t you use that?”

Realizing what I mean, and making a revolted face, he took his index finger into his mouth and covered it with saliva.

“I wanna see that finger go up yo ass. Turn around,” I said through the cloud of smoke I was expelling. As he turned around, I reached out and picked my belt up off the ground. I brought it back and whipped it against one of his butt cheeks. He squealed like a little girl as the leather struck him, which made me and my brother laugh again.

“That was for not calling me ‘sir’ or ‘Daddy’ just then!” I yelled. “Next time it’ll be my fist against yo face!”

“I apologize, sir,” he whimpered compliantly.

Taking one more toke I stood up and said “Get on your side.” I handed the blunt to Mike and walked over to the bed. I held my own much bigger index finger up to Sam’s mouth and said “Lick.”

He bent his head forward and started sucking on my finger, but I only left it there for a few seconds. I removed my finger and moved my hand down to his ass, which was quivering. I spread apart his cheeks to get a good look at his pussy hole and then jammed my finger in.

“ARGH!” he yelled as my finger split his anus.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch boy,” I said coldly. I wiggled my finger around in his ass for about twenty seconds, and after a bunch of high-pitched squeals, I heard a sensual moan escape from his lips and his hole gripped my finger; I had hit his prostate, and knew that no matter what happened, if that part was hit, he’d feel an uncontrollable pleasure. I yanked my finger out and quickly put it by Sam’s mouth, demanding him to suck my finger. He did and I wiped it on his bedsheets.

“Now keep playing with yourself,” I told him, sitting back down in the chair, just as the blunt was passed back to me. He obeyed, starting to finger himself much more easily now as my brother and I smoked. By the time that blunt was gone, Sam had managed to stick three of his small fingers up his ass. This wasn’t nearly enough room for my cock, but I was getting impatient. I was just ITCHING to beat that shit up.

“Get some good shots, Mike?” I asked.

“Damn straight,” my brother replied. “Now comes the best part.”

“Hell yeah, nigga!” I said, pounding his fist with my own.

I got up and walked over to where Sam was playing with himself.

“Stand up and bend over the bed,” I said. He obeyed.

“Say ‘Your bitch is in heat and wants to get fucked, Daddy.’”

In a shameful voice he said, “Your bitch is in heat and wants to get fucked, Daddy.”

“Well when a bitch is in heat, it’s GONNA get fucked!” I said, and with that, I pressed my 10-inch cock up against his asshole.

“Just like we always do, baby,” I said, and began pushing forward. He had lubed his hole up pretty well, but he hadn’t been buttfucked in nearly two months. His three fingers were not as wide as my cock, so I was stretching him out, causing him to moan in pain. But my bitch LOVED it rough and painful.

“Come on, bitch,” I grunted. “Open that hole for Daddy.”

He tried his best to push his hole open a little more, but his face was scrunched in pain, which made him squeeze. Deciding I’d have to take his hole by force, I began shoving myself in further, and a little faster. He began moaning louder as I stretched him out inch by inch. It was some work to do for me; his hole was squeezing against my dick, and the pressure was making me sweat even more. But I didn’t care. I dribbled some of my own spit onto my dick and rubbed it until it was nice and wet. Then I slowly shoved the entire thing up his pussy.

“There we go,” I panted, slapping his ass. Then Mike had his phone focused on Sam’s face.

“How does Daddy’s dick feel, boy?” I barked.

“It hurts!” he exclaimed.

Uh-oh, he forgot something…

I pulled myself almost all the way out, and then gave him a hard jab in the back of the head. He whimpered in pain and his hole squeezed tightly, and at that moment, I gave as hard a thrust as I could, driving myself in balls-deep. The smack of my hips against his cheeks split the air like a whip, and was instantly punctuated by his scream of agony. I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up.

“IT HURTS, SIR!” he corrected himself.

“That’s right, bitch,” I growled angrily. “But you LIKE it when it hurts, don’t you? You LOVE it when Daddy fucks you hard and rough, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” he gasped.

“Tell it to the camera, bitch,” I demanded.

Looking straight into the camera, he said “I love it when Daddy abuses my pussy. I love the way he fucks me rough. I love when Daddy hurts me.”

“That’s FUCKIN’ right!” I said, accenting my profanity with another hard, deep thrust. “Now you moan like a good bitch, while Daddy beats your pussy up.”

And with that, I finally began. I gripped his hips and started fucking him mercilessly, making sure each thrust made a loud smacking noise against his cheeks. He was half moaning, and half screaming as I tore him up, his head thrown back.

“Talk to me, bitch!” I grunted. Then he started talking dirty.

“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck your little bitch boy! Fuck me hard! Fuckin’ hurt me, sir! My pussy is your property, sir!”

I knew he wouldn’t say what he WANTED to say, for fear of me beating the fuck out of him. But he was obedient; I had taught him well in the joint. When Daddy wants his pussy, he gets it, whether the bitch likes it or not. After about five minutes of rough fucking, I pulled myself out.
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