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Just a little story I've started, comments welcome
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My place as sexual release valve for the endless lines of horny old
convicts has not come as completely unwelcome to me. Of course there are
times when i am too sore, or they are too fat, but I am just a punk and
it is my place to take their cocks in my ass as a reception of their
power over me. I also provide them with a good place to hide their
weapons and contraban. I've been found holding their stuff several
times, and as a result have gotten 10 years added to my sentence. It's
really win-win for them, let me take the rap, and they have a bitch for
an extra decade. My girlfriend was going to leave me, but I convinced
her they'd kill me if she didn't keep smuggling heroin into me in her
pussy. She also give me panties and makeup on her visits, and the guys
running the block make her take naked photos of herself in really slutty
poses to pass around the yard. I can't tell you how many times I've
seen a cum covered photo of my girl laying on the dirt in the exercise
yard. Oh well, at least that's a load of cum that didn't end up in my
mouth or up my ass.
My parents know I'm a bitch, and that I
belong to the Black Guerilla Family of cell block F. They still put
money on my books though, all of which of course goes to the gang. I
can't even get cookies or soda without it being taken away. I'm sort of
the block mother in a way, I do all the domestic chores for the whole
row, since it's occupied entirely by BGF members. I do all the laundry,
cleaning, organizing, letter writing etc. At breakfast, I sit by myself
at a table. The guys usually come up and take some of my food, or just
spit on it. I've gotten used to eating food covered in snot and spit, at
least it's a little better than cum.
It's
pretty amazing how available I am to the other inmates. Usually all it
takes is for a man, no matter how fat or disgusting he is, to come up to
one of my gang owners and say something simple like "Hey man, I got a
big load, mind if I borrow the pussy for a while?". I have to demurely
nod my head and stare at the man's belt buckle, then grab onto the back
of his pants as he leads me off to get fucked yet again. The men will
often laugh and joke if I'm being led off by one of the prison's less
attractive men. There is one guy, about 60, with a huge belly and
disgusting beard that is yellow with cigarette stains and food specks.
Every time he comes over I want to scream and run in the opposite
direction, but I smile for him, and let him stick his rotten tongue down
my throat as I lick inside his fetid mouth and let him tongue me. By
the time he's done frenching me to the uproarious laughter of the cons, I
get the pleasure of grabbing onto his dingy old work pants and
following him ever so eagerly to his favorite little love nest, a barely
used utility closet behind some old lawn equipment.
Never will I
forget the feeling of being bent over the hood of a broken down lawn
mower as an obese elderly man slides my red and white panties down to my
ankles and lifts my little prison bitch skirt up so he can slide his
filthy cum encrusted cock deep into my most personal space. The smell of
old diesel fuel and his retched breath mix as I pant and am shoved hard
onto the hood over and over again. Once he cums in me, I have to drop
to my knees and immediately suck his cock clean of all remnants of his
visit to the prison yard's fuck toy. Once he's as clean as he'll ever be
and has shoved his deflated cock back into his pants I pull my panties
up slowly and collect myself as best I can while he lights up a
celebratory cigarette and looks me over. I get the feeling he wants to
kiss me again, forcefully, but the fact that my mouth tastes like punk
pussy puts a stop to his fantasies. Occasionally he'll compliment me on
how sweet I smell, or what a good girl I make. He once confided in me
that he is far happier in prison than he ever would be outside because
"I'd never get pussy as good as yours for as cheap as I can have you
punk" I felt so much shame when he said that, not only because it's
true, but also because the cost is generally free to guys like him,
merely because the gang loves the idea of me having to serve a man so
nasty. I start to straighten up and pull my panties back on when he comes over and forcefully bends me over the lawn mower again. I think that perhaps he's hard again and prepare myself to get raped yet again, but I just feel him sliding my panties off my shaved legs, and shoving them into his pocket as a souvenir of his latest conquest of a prison yard sissy. I know my owners are going to give me a beating for losing my panties when I get back, but because he's a man, I keep my mouth shut and merely put my skirt back on over my sore and bare ass.
I've also been sold a couple of times between gangs when they were short on cash and prison pussy was the best available substitute for money. Usually sales take the form of an auction, an irony that is not lost on me, or my black owners. In a way, I'm happy I can pay back some of the injustices that the men around here have had to endure as a legacy of the same sorts of auctions that took place centuries ago. I have to stand in front of all the gangs that are bidding and suck on something like a banana and show off my prison bitch panties as they all call out bids on me. I know full well that I am going to be forced to do many awful things once I am owned by a new gang.
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Posted on : Dec 2, 2010
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