Franco's Prison Bitch (An Epilogue to "Jerry In Prison") - Sex Stories

Franco's Prison Bitch (An Epilogue to "Jerry In Prison")

... 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 ...